Manipulate (Deliver 6)

She glanced back. “Yeah?”

“You’re stronger than you think. You have the courage to do this job, just like when you saved my life. I have faith in you.”

Each word loosened the cement around her heart, chipping away jagged pieces until she felt the slow leak of an unfamiliar emotion.

She’d always been grateful for his friendship but hadn’t realized how much she needed his approval.

Her mother had kept her at a distance, and she’d never had a mentor or elder to look up to and ask for advice. She needed that. Needed someone to offer guidance on her choices and praise her accomplishments.

Who would’ve thought Hector La Rocha would fill that role? She should’ve been terrified of him, but their relationship wasn’t like that.

He wasn’t a crime boss with her. He was her friend.

The sincerity in his eyes steeled her with determination. She refused to fail. Couldn’t bear the thought of disappointing him.

“Thank you.” She gave him her fiercest smile. “I won’t let you down.”Back in the hallway, Tula found Garra waiting for her with his arms crossed. She didn’t need to tell him what had been decided in Hector’s quarters. One look at her and concern sank into the grooves around his eyes and swallowed his glare.

“Don’t say anything.” She strode down the hall, past her cell, and headed toward the yard for some fresh air. “I get it.”

“You get what?” He chased after her, huffing passive-aggressive breaths down her back.

“If something happens to me, you fail your job, and you can’t stand the thought of that.”

“It’s just a job.”

“Not to you.” She paused at the door to the yard and peered through the grimy window. “See those guys over there covered in tattoos, with the three dots around their eyes and the faceless clocks on their necks? They’ll be running in the opposite direction of the trouble you’ll be running straight toward. That’s why Hector respects you. Because you fear God more than man. You run into battles, outnumbered and undaunted by the outcome, with only loyalty in your heart to your leader.”

“That almost sounds like a compliment.”

“It’s the truth.” Her gaze jumped to the gunshot wound on his shoulder, the scarred welt partially covered by his black tank top. “I haven’t forgotten, Garra.”

He’d taken that bullet for her. During a riot that broke out a year after her arrest, he leaped between her and the shooter.

Before that happened… God, how she’d hated him. She’d made sure he knew it, too, barely speaking to him and forcing him to live that first year like a castrated servant.

When he saved her life, she decided to let go of the past. No more grudges. No more revengeful punishments. She let it all go and gave him a free pass to have sex with whomever was willing.

Maybe that made her a softie. Compared to everyone in here, she was. But when she thought about the compassionate, naive schoolteacher who was arrested two years ago, she knew that woman was gone. None of those soft, sentimental parts remained inside her.

Not even when it came to the man who had taken a bullet for her.

Garra had only been doing his job, and now, she needed him to step back and let her do her job. A job that would put her in the arms of a criminal.

Two criminals.

Ricardo and Martin could’ve been rapists, pedophiles, serial killers, or rival cartel members on a mission to take out anyone close to Hector. She’d agreed to learn who they were by spending an indefinite amount of time with them. Intimate time. Alone.

It would be hard enough to manipulate them into trusting her. If Garra were with her, hovering and watching and listening to every word, they would never open up.

She had to do this on her own, through a series of private moments, away from the watchful eye of her guard.

Garra had already come to this conclusion, given the worry lines etched on his face. He knew the gun on her hip would come off during sex, and she wouldn’t be able to defend herself.

Not while she was naked.

Spread beneath a hard body.

With a dick thrusting inside her.

Her breath caught. Her pulse sprinted, and a sudden rush of heat throbbed between her legs.

She clenched her thighs together.

Christ, where did that come from? She hadn’t experienced arousal since before her arrest. She’d almost forgotten what it felt like.

Two years without sex, and now she was supposed to be some kind of femme fatale? It felt impossible.

“I hate this as much as you do.” She opened the door and stepped into the sunlight, grateful for the cool breeze. “You don’t want to disappoint Hector by failing at your job, and neither do I.”

A fire burned in her belly as she crossed the yard toward her favorite bench. She would tackle this challenge with the same tenacity that got her out of the slums of Ciudad Hueca.