Free Unbreakable: Unrequited Part Two (Fallen Aces MC Book 2) by Max Henry Page B

belly. The water runs off the tip of my nose in a stream as I let the nausea swirl at the realization. I’m contemplating killing Carlos. A week ago, I would have tried without hesitation. I would have dried off from the shower and headed straight downstairs to find myself a gun. But now? I hate that what he told me about his wife, his son, has even had an effect on me. But it did. He showed me that underneath all the hate, the viciousness, and the psychopathic tendencies, he’s human. However small, the coldest of hearts always has a chance at redemption.
    Dressed and ready for dinner, I settle in the seat beside my window and watch as a black town car makes its way slowly around the arc of the driveway. With my arms folded before me on the side of the seat, I rest my chin on my forearms and eye the driver as he gets out and rounds the car to the rear door. Small clouds appear and disappear on the glass as I even out my breathing, finding solace in the small things. If anything, these weeks with Carlos have taught me mindfulness, how to find peace in the worst of times. I close my eyes and center myself, focus on the beating of my heart, and the soft whoosh of the air that fills my lungs.
    I have clothes to wear. I have food in my belly, and I have hope at an escape from all of this. I’m thankful to be alive.
    The dull thud of the car door as it closes snaps me from my meditative state, and I open my eyes in time to see the ash-blonde hair of a woman disappear under the eaves of the house. A woman? Carlos said he expected guests, but a woman?
    I pull back from the window and try to work out who these guests are, what their reason for being here is, and if it’s going to screw up the plans Sully has. I stare vacantly at the bag containing the few things I’ll take with me tonight, wondering why after weeks and months of relative solitude Carlos has decided to open his doors to guests. What is he up to?
    Maria appears breathless at my door. “I need you to come downstairs please.”
    I’m out of the seat and walking toward her before I can think on it. The stress evident on her face has my heart quickening, my efforts to ground myself mere seconds before wasted. “What’s going on?”
    “Se ñ or’s guests weren’t supposed to arrive until later, but she’s early. Sully hasn’t brought him back yet; I need you to entertain her.”
    My breath comes quick and short. Can I do this? I don’t even know who she is. “What do I need to know? Quick, tell me on the way downstairs.”
    Maria’s flat shoes scuff quickly across the floor, matched by the soft swish of the full-length dress I have on as we head down the hall toward the stairs.
    “Her name is Emile,” Maria rushes out. “She speaks good English, but her accent is thick, so you may struggle from time to time.”
    I glance over at Maria as we pass the last room before the landing.
    “She’s French. Lives in Canada now.”
    “What does she do?”
    “She runs some sort of illegal operation—of course—but I don’t know what for. Drugs maybe? Gambling? Prostitution? I really don’t know. If Sully were here, he could tell you. I’m sorry.”
    I place a hand to her arm as we take the top steps. “It’s okay. I’ll work it out I guess.” I let loose a short bitter laugh. “What choice do I have?”
    We hurry the rest of the way down to the first floor and come to an abrupt halt before the doors that lead into the sitting room. I run a clammy hand over my hair, smoothing down any strays, and suck in a deep breath.
    Maria melts into the corners of the hallway as I sweep through the open doors, the fakest and widest smile plastered to my face.
    “Welcome.” I make my way across to where she sits on one of the lounges, her arm stretched across the back, and offer my hand.
    Emile looks at it as though I’ve just held out a stick of maggot-ridden jerky. Okay.
    Her thick, bleached hair cascades over one shoulder, resting over her tailored jacket. The