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I grin at him. But he hardly meets my gaze. “Yeah, girl, that’s cool. Glad you got it to me, but, uh, we’ll talk later, yeah?”

I hesitate, not sure why he’s giving me such a cool reaction. “Yeah, that sounds good. Don’t stay too busy.”

“Shit, better not.” He ignores me as I walk away.

That was weird. We’ve been talking about my plan for weeks. I’ve been paying him off in installments and I thought he was excited for me. Now it’s like he doesn’t even care.

I know he’s busy back there, but still. He could’ve paused to give me a hug or something.

But whatever. Hector doesn’t matter. He’s a means to an end and nothing more.

I rejoin Sara at the front desk. She leans on her elbows and nods with her chin toward the lobby. “You notice those guys?”

I follow her gaze. Two men are sitting together, both in black jeans and work shirts. One’s heavyset, muscular and craggy; the other is slim and young with tattoos and a hard look to him. “What about them?”

“They’ve been sitting there for like two hours now.” Sara frowns, head tilted. “What do you think they’re doing?”

“Sitting. Who cares?” I bang on the keyboard, annoyed with myself for being annoyed with Hector. “Don’t we have work to do?”

“Probably,” Sara chimes happily and doesn’t move. “I think one of them’s got a gun.”

“It’s Texas. Everyone’s got a gun.”

Sara doesn’t respond.

But for the rest of my shift, I keep noticing them. Two guys, both rough-looking cowboy types, the sort of men who prep for doomsday and drive a massive truck. That describes half of Austin, but something about these two bugs me.

They’re always around. Either sitting in the lobby, lingering near the elevators, or lurking by the kitchens. At one point, I thought I saw one come out of the back doors leading to where Hector’s working, but that can’t be right.

Only I know their type. I grew up with guys like that. My older brother’s always following them around, trying to be tough, trying to be hard, except Javi never was any good at it.

The more I think about it, the more sure I am that they’re Don Nardo’s people.

But what are they doing here?

I know better than to ask questions. Working in this hotel taught me to keep my mouth shut a thousand times over. Their presence likely means something way over my head and it’s better if I pretend like they don’t exist.

I have to tell Sara to quit gawping at them at least half a dozen times before she gets the hint.

At the end of my shift, as I head into the parking lot to take my mom’s car back home, I spot one of them hovering by the license plate. “Hey!” I call out but he walks off, not bothering to look back.

What was he doing? Taking pictures of the car? Or was he bending over to look for something?

I have a very, very bad feeling as I hurry back to the house.

Between Hector blowing me off and the two thugs, I’m starting to think I need to move my timeline up sooner rather than later, before the swirling clouds of doubt descend and ruin all my plans.

8

BASS

Mom whips up the lid of the grill and uses tongs to flip the ribs. “Smelling good!” she says happily, pausing to adjust her dark hair. She’s in a conservative blouse and comfortable pants with an apron that says Bigger in Texas.

I pass over her martini. “Nobody does barbecue like you.”

“Darn right they don’t.” Mom sips her drink and joins me at the outdoor table. “Beautiful evening, isn’t it?”

“Can’t complain.” The humidity is low and the heat’s not bad. The bugs are quiet and the land is clear. Some cattle graze in the distance. The drone of Lia’s ATV rumbles as she rides it around the hills. “What’s Vince up to right now?”