Dirty Angels 01 Read Online Free PDF Page B

know that?”
    “I know many things,” he went on, “and I want many things. Final question: are you a virgin?”
    My cheeks immediately grew hot. “That is none of your business.”
    He grinned like a crocodile. “I’m afraid it is my business. Whether you like it or not, you are my business now. You can tell me the truth or I can wait until three in the morning and I’ll find out for myself. Oh, and don’t act like you’re going to call the police over this. You know exactly who I am and you know exactly what I can do.”
    I felt like I was seconds away from fainting, the fear was so great. But somehow I managed to say, “Yes, I am a virgin.”
    He nodded in sleazy satisfaction. “I thought as much. Perhaps that is why you’re so unhappy.”
    He looked to the other man who brought out his wallet. He placed $500 on the table.
    My mouth dropped open at the wad of money just sitting there while Salvador and the man got out of the booth. I quickly backed out of the way.
    “You can eat the nachos,” Salvador said, hiking up his jeans and looking me over. “You look like you could use a bit more weight in those thighs. I wouldn’t want to hurt you … much.”
    Then Salvador and the man left the bar. One moment they were here and I was caught in the most frightening conversation of my life, the next minute they were gone. I stood there for a long time, trying to wrap my head around what had happened. Then I realized that they had gone, for real, and there was a huge amount of money on the table waiting for me.
    I quickly scooped it up and stuffed it down my shirt before anyone could see. Then I tried to go back to work, but every hour I was looking over my shoulder in fear that the drug lord would come back.
    He didn’t come back that night. Not even when I finished my shift.
    But he did come back the next day.
    And the next.
    And the next.
    And the next.
    Until I learned not to fear him as much.
    Until he made me an offer I couldn’t refuse.

C HAPTER THREE
    “L uisa you’ve barely touched your food,” my mother said. I looked up from my plate to her blank stare, always wondering how she could sense such things. It must have been motherly instinct.
    “I’m just not very hungry,” I admitted, pushing the chicken around on my plate, my head and heart heavy as if someone had opened my mouth and poured sand inside me.
    She slowly placed her fork down and sighed. “You haven’t been yourself for the last few weeks. Is there something you need to talk about? Is it work?”
    I glanced at my father. He was eating away, apparently content. I knew he wasn’t really here right now—when my father was one hundred per cent himself, he was very intuitive and a straight shooter. I could rarely keep things from him either.
    “It’s not work,” I said slowly, knowing that I was going to have tell them. I just didn’t know how. They wouldn’t see it the way I saw it. I wondered how much I could hide from them.
    “Mama, papa,” I said. I cleared my throat and straightened up in my chair. Even though my mother couldn’t see me, I felt her looking. Only my dad remained lost in lost thoughts, and for once I was okay that he would have no reaction. “I met a man.”
    “Oh?” my mother asked, her interest piqued by the foreign subject. “Who is he? Where did you meet him? Do you like him?”
    “I met him at work,” I said, skirting the other questions and shoving a piece of stewed tomato in my mouth. I chewed slowly, planning my words. “He took an interest in me. He is very wealthy and has promised me the world.”
    Her face fell slightly. “I see.” She paused, pushing her plate away from her. “I am not surprised, Luisa. You are a beautiful, intelligent woman. I am only surprised that this is the first man you have talked about to us.”
    Here it came. “That is because it is serious. He has asked to marry me.”
    The room stilled, choking on silence and the oppressive heat. My heart throbbed with fear