"How's Lola?" I ask quietly.
The name tastes the same way she did. Sweet. And dangerous enough to rip my life apart.
Her mouth drops open, then snaps shut. "Uh. She's. Um."
“Violet! We have an issue!” a guy shouts from the tent. She gives me a smile and starts backing away. And I just stand and watch her.
“You can tell me how Lola is once you’ve dealt with your issue,” I tell her, shoving my hands in my pockets.
“O-okay, sir.” She rushes out, and then she’s gone.
And I’m chuckling. People ‘round here don’t hide shit from me. They know I can see through lies. Yet Violet and Lola… they aren’t from ‘round here.
Colten appears from the stable and leans on the post. “Where is the birthday boy?” he asks, lighting up a cigarette.
“Over there, playing with Ace.”
He frowns. “No. Ace was just looking for him in the stables; they were playing hide and seek or some shit.”
I roll my eyes. That game drives me crazy here. There are way too many places for him to hide. And I can’t stand it when he’s not in my sights at all times. Especially not when we’ve got a mafia war brewing.
“Jesus, fuck.” I grumble.
I know his favorite spots. I need to find him so I can breathe properly again.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
LOLA
Violet is havingsome kind of crisis, and she's sent me in through the back door of the main ranch house to find cleaning products and a mop. And oh my God.
I've never seen anything so beautiful in my life.
The cobbled stone walls. The vast amounts of wood. The paintings. Leather furniture that looks like it costs more than my entire apartment back in New York. It's classy yet homely all at once. The kind of house that makes you feel like you're trespassing just by breathing in it.
As I sneak through the living room, I stop when I hear what sounds like someone crying behind one of the doors.
I pause. Take a step closer. My hand rests on the handle.
"Hello?" I call out gently.
It sounds like a kid sniffling. They don't reply, so I slowly open the door. And find a little boy sitting in the middle of his playroom, surrounded by birthday presents. In front of him is a bag of unopened ones.
"You okay, buddy?" I ask, stepping in and closing the door behind me.
He nods but doesn't speak, so I tiptoe closer. "Oh, are you Wyatt?" I say as I approach him.
Violet gave me the run down before we arrived. The birthday boy is Wyatt, he’s six. And his Uncle Ace is the guy who organized this for him.
"Yes," he sniffles.
I smile as I take a seat on the floor beside him. "Did you forget to open some birthday presents? Or saving the best for later, huh?" I ask.
"T-these are from my mom." He looks at me with red eyes, and my heart leaps out of my chest. My brain might be messing with me, but this kid is the spitting image of Hunter. Same sharp jaw, just softer. Same blue eyes. Same stubbornness sitting behind them, even at six years old.
I nod. "Oh, that's cool. Is she here?" I ask, trying to keep my voice light.
He shakes his head. "No."