Page 28 of The Fixer

Silver eyes locked on mine, and my stomach dropped.

“Why don’t you sit down.”

7

Jet

Trying to explain Mateo Medina to someone was a feat of Olympic proportions. He was one of the smartest, most loyal people I’d ever known. He could also be one of the most outrageously annoying people in the world. What you got depended on his mood and what he wanted from you.

That he was here at all humbled me. There was nothing in this for him. There would be horrible consequences if we were caught communicating in any way. Yet he was here, months out from being shot in the chest and dying three separate times, stepping in to help me out.

Perhaps it was the love of D’Angelo’s daughter that had him feeling invincible. Feeling he could disregard orders that were handed down and live in the protection she provided.

Eliza and I sat in the chairs in front of the desk as Mateo sat behind it, eyes flashing between us and the computer as he worked away. Irritation bubbled across Eliza’s skin at first, as it appeared Mateo was ignoring the two of us, head buried in some agenda only he could see. But it became clear, after just a few minutes, that the man was something she was unused to. Multi-talented and able to do many things at once. That irritation lessened. She was leaning in, fully engaged, and I wanted to pull my jealousy off me like dirty clothes. Tear it apart, discard it, and never think of it again.

She wasn’t mine.

Mateo was a flirt, through and through. It didn’t matter that he had D’Angelo’s daughter, it was just how he was. Yet the color that crept across her cheeks as the man complimented her again and again had my stomach lurching and twisting itself into a knot.

“So, this…” Eliza paused. Motioned toward Mateo, waving her hand in tiny circles in front of him. “You’re talking to someone?”

Mateo gave a grin so similar to the one that had Eliza cowering earlier. Everything in me wanted to crush him. To wrap her in my arms and protect her from whatever demon was chasing her. Yet when she reached out to me, reached for my hand, reality came rushing back in.

I let her take my hand. Let her hold it as something inside me pulsed with a kind of revulsion I was familiar with. Then, as Mateo’s grin dropped and the danger passed, I pulled my hand away.

She wasn’t mine, and I’d do well to remember that.

Mateo touched his ear. “Everything we say is heard.” He touched his thick-rimmed glasses. “Everything we do is seen.”

“And you expect us to be okay with this?”

Mateo flinched. “Yeah, yeah. So maybe we shouldn’t have told her.”

Eliza reached her hand out, placing it on my knee, and it took everything in me not to jerk back and tear that little dream she was living in to shreds. “Did you know about this?”

Forcing a tight smile, I scooped her hand off my leg. “They’re a package deal. Always have been.”

Her hand withdrew and the twisted knot in my stomach plummeted. I pressed my knuckle to my forehead and let out a long breath.

“Why are you here?” Eliza asked, turning away from me. “What’s the point of all this?”

Mateo gave her a smile, but it was nothing like the ones he’d given her previously. This was no leering smirk or flirty grin. It was almost proud, knowing, a dip of his eyes down her face to her hands and back before he rose to his feet.

“Come. Take a look.”

Eliza rounded the desk, shrinking out of Mateo’s way as they shuffled so she could slide into the chair. She gasped, covered her mouth, and I swore I saw tears glistening in her eyes. I was behind them in an instant, wanting to wipe those tears away, to soothe her, to eliminate the threat.

On the screen were pictures. Family photos, of her and Charlie and her mom. Of her parents snuggling a tiny Mr. Jingles. Of Eliza in a cap and gown. Here, Charlie buried under a pile of sand as a young Eliza gave a toothy grin to the camera. Another, with the beautiful Caroline Westbrook holding a red-headed baby in her arms.

Mateo’s hands came down on Eliza’s shoulders, and she looked up at him with watery eyes. “I’ve never seen some of these.”

“I’m here to help you, Eliza. That’s what I’m doing here. I lost my father when I was younger, and there’s not much worse than that. No one should have to go through that.” Mateo lifted his gaze to me, and it felt like a hand wrapped around my throat. “Jet asked me to come here, and I couldn’t say no. He’s family, and family will do anything for each other, no matter what.”

Guilt hit me, buried me under the weight of a falling building, scorched my skin and broke my bones as that emotion came crashing down. Mateo’s hand on my shoulder grounded me, pulled me back.

“Your father’s computer has a lot on it,” Mateo said, returning his gaze to Eliza. “Personal files are mixed with business. The filing system is… non-existent.”

Eliza chuckled quietly. “That sounds like my father.”