The Vargas Cartel Trilogy: Books 1 - 3 Read online

  Evan stood at the end of the hall, his body smashed against some blonde-haired woman in a short blue dress, her arms locked around his neck. With his tongue halfway down her throat and one of his hands under her skirt, his body moved against hers in a rhythm that made my dinner lurch in my stomach.

  The live music reverberated harshly through my ears. Anger and betrayal pumped like acid through my veins. Hot tears seared the corners of my eyes and my hands fisted the fabric of my dress. I tried to blink away the evidence of my shattering heart and be strong, but the tears kept coming, refusing to leave my dignity intact.

  Part of me wanted to bolt for the door and drink enough alcohol to burn the image from my eyes, but the rest of me wanted to rip every last strand of Evan’s perfectly gelled hair from his head.

  “Evan,” I yelled, but his name clotted in my throat.

  He lifted his head, and his dark eyes locked with mine.

  “Hattie, baby,” he said pushing away from the woman. “I’m sorry.” He held out his hand to me—the same one that had been up that woman’s dress five seconds earlier—and I felt something break inside me beyond recognition. My heart? Trust? I didn’t know.

  I backpedaled a few steps, shaking my head from side to side, my short hair whipping my cheeks. “Don’t touch me.” A dozen fragmented thoughts collided in my brain, but my mouth floundered. The ability to focus escaped me. Was this the first time he’d cheated? Or did it happen so often that he wasn’t worried about me catching him in the act? Was he dating this woman too? Were there others? Did his friends know?

  “Evan,” the blonde woman said as her bubblegum fingernails dug into the skin on his forearm. “What’s going on?”

  He snatched his arm out of her grasp, keeping his glued to mine. “Lena, you need to leave. You were a mistake. It’s over.”

  Her heavily made-up blue eyes widened for a minute and then she marched past him, her shoulder knocking into mine. “Go to hell. You said you weren’t dating her anymore,” she yelled, her finger waving in my direction. “Don’t call me again. I’m done with your games.”

  With those few words, she confirmed I hadn’t interrupted a one-time hookup. I put a hand on my stomach willing the contents to stay put.

  “It’s not as bad as it looks.” Evan took a tentative step toward me.

  “You’re right.”

  Relief caused his face to sag, and he blew out a long exaggerated breath. “Let me—”

  He actually thought I’d fall for his dumb excuses. “It’s worse,” I interrupted. “How many times?”

  His eyebrows scrunched together, marring the smooth skin between his dark eyes. “What are you talking about?”

  “How many times have you cheated?”

  “Baby, what happened tonight will never happen again. We’re good together. Don’t throw it away over a little misstep.”

  “A misstep? It won’t happen again.” I echoed his words as the tears blurred my vision until I felt like I was looking through a prism into an alternate reality. “What does that mean? You’re insane if you think I’ll believe anything that falls out of your mouth right now.”

  He slammed his hand on the wall, with a dark scowl. “I had too much to drink. She pulled me onto the dance floor and before I knew it, one thing—”

  I held up my hand and willed it not to shake. “Don’t try to pull that shit with me. I don’t care if you drank a fifth of vodka. It doesn’t give you a license to cheat, much less shove your hand up some slut’s skirt.” My voice shattered on the last word. I can’t believe four years of dating Evan boiled down to this moment in a stupid bar. It felt like an out of body experience where I floated above my body watching the train wreck unfold second by second.

  “Fuck,” he yelled, his eyebrows slanting downward. For a split second, I fantasized about clawing his eyes out. “What can I do to make this better? I can’t lose you. I love you.”

  “Jesus. I’m not stupid. Don’t treat me like I am.” I rubbed the back of my hand over my eyes. I’m sure I had rings of mascara dripping down my face. I needed to get control of myself. I didn’t like being the crazy girl, screaming at my boyfriend in public while everyone stared in sick fascination, and I definitely sensed eyes on us—judging me, judging Evan, watching the destruction of my relationship. “I can’t talk to you right now, not here, and not tonight.” I paused, and a shudder rolled through me. “Don’t wait up for me tonight. I’m not going home.”

  “No. Don’t do that.” He reached for me again, but I took a giant step back. The thought of him touching me made me sick. “I’ll sleep on the couch.”

  “No,” I shook my head, whipping it from side to side. “I can’t be around you. I can’t be anywhere near you. Not tonight. Not tomorrow.” I turned and ran before he stopped me. My body ricocheted off the elbows, knees, and shoulders of faceless people as I threaded through the crowd. I didn’t stop to apologize. I needed to flee before the weight of Evan’s betrayal swallowed me whole.

  Chapter Three

  “Evan is downstairs again,” my mom said standing in the doorway of my childhood bedroom, the room I’d been using since I walked away from Evan. Over two weeks had slipped by, and I still hadn’t emailed, texted, or talked to Evan, and I didn’t have any intention of changing course now. Our relationship was over. I’d have to talk to him eventually, and I needed to get my things from his place, but I didn’t want to do it yet.

  “Tell him to go away,” I responded without looking up from my computer. I buried myself in research for my graduate advisor, trying to ignore Evan and what happened.

  “Look at me,” she barked.

  I hid my smile. She hated being ignored. I lifted my head and painted a fake smile on my face. “Yes?”

  Elegant, ageless, and as cold on the inside as on the outside, my mom braced one expertly manicured hand on her hip. Her blood red fingertips contrasted with her stiff navy dress. “I’m growing tired of this childish game you’re playing with Evan. You need to talk to him. He’s sorry. That’s all that matters. Don’t throw away everything we’ve worked for. Evan is your future.”

  I slammed my laptop closed and stood up. “No, mom. He’s not my future. I don’t want to be with him now or ever.”

  “Well, you need to alter your opinion because it’s a done deal. You’re going to marry Evan. That’s what everyone expects, and that’s what you’re going to do.” With one graceful flick of her hand, she pushed her subtly highlighted blonde hair away from her face.

  “If you like Evan so much, then you marry him, because I don’t intend to welcome him back into my life anytime in the next decade.”

  “Grow up, Hattie. You’ve made commitments and the Covington’s never go back on their word. You’re going to his family’s house in the Virgin Islands in a week. It’s time to move on. You’ve made your point. Gather your things and go home with Evan.”

  “Actually, I’m not going to the Virgin Islands. I exchanged my ticket last night.” I folded my arms across my chest and smiled.

  “Exchanged it for what?” My mom’s surprise was evident in her eyes and the rigidness of her spine. If not for her regular Botox injections, her eyebrows would have been hidden beneath the elegant sweep of her light brown hair.

  “I’m going to Mexico with Vera.”

  “Vera.” My best friend’s name rolled off her tongue like a curse. She never liked Vera. She thought Vera was too expressive and uncouth…whatever that meant. Personally, I attributed her dislike to the fact that Vera’s dad dropped out of politics five years ago, and he didn’t even pretend he cared about his former colleagues or former profession, except my dad. They still played poker once a month in what Vera’s dad deemed a ‘politics free zone.’

  “Yes.” I raised one eyebrow. “Is there something wrong with that? Dad was fine with it.” I lied. I didn’t ask him, but he wouldn’t care. He liked Evan, but he wouldn’t interfere. Besides, at my age, I didn’t need parental permission, and I was sick of my mom pretendi
ng otherwise. I really needed to find a place to live, because hanging out in my childhood bedroom sucked.

  My mom tapped her fingernails on the doorjamb without saying a word, but it didn’t mean my mom wasn’t thinking, calculating, and manipulating facts in her mind. I think her ruthlessness exceeded my dad’s, and that said a lot. “Fine,” she said. “But you will give Evan the respect he deserves and tell him about your plans face to face.”

  My eyes narrowed and I wanted to refuse, but I didn’t. I had to face him at some point, and now would work as well as any other day. “Send him up.”

  “He’s in the living room.”

  No way. I rolled my eyes. My mom wanted to eavesdrop and do damage control if necessary. I didn’t want her to listen and report every detail to my dad. Over the last two weeks, she’d done everything she could think of to force me to reconcile with Evan, except hold a gun to my head. “So.” I shrugged. “I’m sure his legs work.”

  She walked away without saying another word.

  Five minutes later, Evan walked into my room, his hands buried in the front pockets of his khaki chinos, his face clean shaven, his white dress shirt expertly starched, all tied together with a brown belt and loafers. He might as well have been a mannequin with his utter lack of uniqueness. Why hadn’t I noticed that before?

  “Hi,” he said softly as he sat next to me on the edge of the bed.

  “Hi.” I tucked my legs beneath my black maxi dress, purposely leaving my toes exposed. I painted my toenails metallic blue yesterday in silent rebellion against Evan. I knew he would hate it, and judging from the direction of his gaze, he had noticed.

  Last Easter, I painted them the light blue to match my light blue linen suit. I thought they added a fun flare to my boring suit. Evan didn’t concur. He berated me the entire drive home from the brunch at his parents’ country club. Apparently, he thought they looked tacky and unprofessional. At the time, I didn’t really care. It was nail polish, not a tattoo. I could switch it out easily enough, but now his comment symbolized something bigger—his gamble to control and groom me for a role I no longer wanted. His wife.

  “Thanks for seeing me.”

  I nodded, unwilling to be the first person to delve into the details of what happened or what it meant for our future. Anger and resentment ricocheted around the room.

  “I miss you. When are you coming home?” he inquired, breaking the silence and diving into the heart of our conflict.

  “I’m not.”

  “Why not?”

  I snorted. “Seriously, Evan. I caught you with your hand up some woman’s dress. Do I need to have another reason, because that one seems pretty good to me?”

  Evan rubbed the back of his neck. “How can I change your mind? How can I make this better?”

  I blew out an exaggerated breath. “Evan, I don’t think you can. I can’t pretend I didn’t see you with that woman. When I look at you, it’s all I see. I don’t know if what happened was a one-time thing, or if it was one of many—”

  “Hattie,” he interrupted, claiming my hands, his thumbs coasting along the inside of my wrists. “I promise it won’t happen again. I’m not going to lie. I haven’t been perfect for the last four years, but losing you over a thoughtless decision reformed me for good. You have my word. I won’t cheat ever again. You’re my future.”

  I seesawed between overwhelming sadness and rage. I swallowed hard, trying to hold back the flood of emotions, but my throat was too dry and constricted to finish the motion. “Wow. I don’t know what to say,” I whispered, the rawness in my voice unmistakable. I jerked my hands out of his grasp. I felt as though I was dying inch by slow inch. The last four years had been a lie, and I’d been blind and dumb to reality. Evan hadn’t changed. He wouldn’t change. Ever.

  “I know it’s not what you wanted to hear, but I’m not going to lie and have to revisit this issue again. I want to put everything on the table so we can put it behind us. This way, we’ll have a clean slate again without any secrets hovering over us. It wasn’t as bad as you’re thinking. When we first started dating, occasionally I hooked up with another woman, but that stopped after two or three months when I realized I only wanted you. I never touched anyone else until two weeks ago. I went to a bar and Lena sat next to me.”

  I held my hands over my ears. “I don’t want to know the details. Jesus, I get the point.”

  “No.” He yanked my hands away from my face. “Let me finish. We danced. We kissed. After that, we went to dinner a couple times while you were at work. Then, she showed up at the bar the night you…” Evan looked away and rubbed the side of his face. “Found us. I didn’t invite her. We never had sex…not one time.”

  I tipped my head toward the ceiling, the emptiness in my heart expanding to epic proportions with each passing word. “I appreciate your honesty, but I’m not ready to forgive you.” No, that wasn’t the truth. I’d never be able to have a trusting relationship with him again. Just thinking about how many times I crawled into bed next to him when he’d been with someone else sent a shard of pain through my foolish heart until it was nothing but a splintered mess in my chest.

  “Not seeing you is tearing me apart.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “These past two weeks, I’ve been thinking about why I cheated.”

  I lifted my eyebrows. “And what’d you come up with?” I prompted.

  “I missed us. We used to spend all our time together, and lately you’ve been busy—”

  “Don’t blame this on me.”

  He shook his head. “I’m not, but I want more of you than you’ve been giving me. I want things to be like they were before graduate school.”

  “I don’t know, Evan. Everything fluctuates over time. Between classes, work, fundraisers for your dad, and graduation, neither of us has much left to give. This break is probably a good thing.”

  “Don’t give up on us. When it’s just the two of us next week, we can get past this…find a compromise.”

  My eyes darted to the side. “Evan, I’m not going with you. I already canceled my flight.”

  “What?” He stood up, two spots of color staining his cheekbones, his eyes dark with anger.

  “I’m going to Playa del Carmen with Vera.”

  “Fuck, Hattie.” He tugged at the roots of his sandy brown hair, causing gelled strands of hair to stick up in frazzled clumps. “You’re really going to throw us away over a few mistakes.” He pointed a finger at me. “You’re not perfect either, but I’m willing to overlook your faults. Can’t you do the same for me?”

  And there was the arrogant Evan I knew. “I may have worked too late on occasion, and I know I’m not as spontaneous as you’d like, but I never cheated. Not once.” I cradled my body with my arms. “I never even considered it.”

  “No, you’re right. I’m sorry,” he said almost soundlessly, dropping his head to his chest. “So where does this leave us?”

  I stood up and walked to my door. He needed to leave. “There isn’t an us. At least, not now.”

  “I’m not giving up. I love you.”

  He wrapped his arms around me and brushed his lips across my forehead. I stood frozen in his arms, not reciprocating, but not moving. I missed him. I missed my perfectly arranged life, but I needed to let it go.

  “I can’t promise you anything,” I whispered into crook of his neck.

  “I know.” He released me and took a few steps back. “I have to meet my dad in twenty minutes, but this isn’t over. We’ll talk after Spring Break.”

  “Bye, Evan,” I said, not acknowledging his words. Evan didn’t want to give up on me, but I wouldn’t give in either. I couldn’t, not if I wanted to regain control over my life, and I did…more than anything.

  Chapter Four

  “You’re wearing this.” Vera, my best and only true friend, tossed a black, silky dress, resembling lingerie at my face. Other than Vera, my friends had taken Evan’s side. They accused me of overreacting. Fuck them. I didn’t need them.
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br />   “No, thanks.” I tossed the dress on the hotel bed next to me. “I’m not going out tonight.”

  She cocked one leg to the side and balanced one hand on her hip. “Why not? We’re in Mexico. We can’t sit in our hotel room like two losers.”

  “You can go without me. I don’t mind.” I didn’t mind. In fact, I preferred it. That way, I’d have more time to sulk without worrying about Vera’s feelings. I needed to pull my head out of my ass and stop being a bad friend, and I would, but not tonight.

  “That’s dumb. I’m not going without you.”

  “Just go. I’m sunburned. I’ll be miserable.” I thumbed through the gossip magazine I picked up in the airport, pretending to be totally absorbed in the story of the latest starlet gone crazy. In truth, my misery demanded all of my attention. I didn’t have room in my life for other people’s problems and Vera clearly noticed. When Vera convinced me to go on this vacation with her, enjoying myself seemed like a foregone conclusion. Now, it felt like another obstacle, preventing me from putting shattered pieces of my life back into order.

  Vera flipped her vibrant red hair over her shoulder. “Nope. That excuse won’t work. You didn’t leave the beach cabana once today, and you have olive skin.”

  I tilted my head to the side. “I swam laps in the morning.” At home, I alternated between swimming and running on a daily basis. Exercise kept my life organized, structured…just the way I liked it. I didn’t like to deviate from my routine, and the last three weeks had been a huge deviation. I ran in a different park. I swam at a different gym. I slept in a different bed. I left my favorite coffee mug at my old apartment with Evan.

  “For twenty minutes at sunrise. That hardly counts. Try again.”

  “My stomach hurts?” I said it as a question. Both of us knew there wasn’t a thing wrong with me except a wounded ego. I didn’t want Evan back, but it sickened me that I wasted so much time with him. I completely misread him until he shoved his true self in my face in the form of a buxom blonde. Even worse, my mom refused to let the idea of a happily ever after for Evan and me die.