He laughed, rolling his eyes. “That’s the funniest part. This is all because of me, but everyone thinks it was because of you.” He shook his head, his laugh lingering. “This all started before your husband died. In a way, it’s the reason he died.”
I frowned. “What?”
The elevator stopped, but he hit the button to keep the doors closed and locked the elevator in place. “This might take a while, so bear with me. Once I get you in the car, that’ll be it. I’ll shoot you, throw you in the trunk, and ditch you as soon as I get to my spot. But you can die knowing why you’re dying. I mean, I’d want to know.”
I sneered. “How generous of you.”
He frowned. “You don’t have to be snooty. If you don’t know want to know…” He reached for the button to open the doors.
“No!” I cried. “I want to know. Please. I want to know.”
He held my gaze, studying me.
I held my breath. Please, God—I need more time.
He withdrew his hand, folding it over his chest once again. “Okay. I’ll tell you, and then that’s it.” He sat on the floor of the elevator with me, softening his voice. “Your husband was a counselor at Haven Center, the place where my brother, Dusty, was a patient. He’s an addict. He was in for treatment, and he trusted your husband because he came from Bea’s line and because everything’s confidential, patient/counselor privilege or whatever the hell it is. COPA? COBRA? No. HIPPA. That’s it. Anyway, apparently Dusty ran his mouth about the family, and about me, too. I’d just been promoted because I volunteered for deep cover. Everything was fine until one day my brother was leaving his session, and as he walked out, a Mauricio walked in. Another fucking patient, can you imagine that? So my bro recognized this guy, and he backtracked. He watched as the dumbfuck went inside and went right to your husband. And you know what those two did?”
Clearly he didn’t expect an answer. He barely paused to take a breath. “They shook hands. That was it. That was all Dusty saw, but it was enough. In one instant, your husband went from alive to dead. I heard he was a nice guy. Dusty told me later he probably kept the secrets like he’d promised. But he died anyway, so it didn’t matter. Everything got shelved away.”
My stomach flipped over. If I’d had anything in it, I would’ve spewed it out, right on Dorian’s feet.
“I was in deep cover doing my thing, keeping watch over the fucking spoiled kid. I didn’t find any of this out until I got back, but a war started between my family and the Mauricios. Sure, there’s peace now—well, not now, but there was. And we’d had moments of peace before then until the Mauricios, they wiped us clean. A lot of good guys were killed by that fucker Carter and your boy. We kept getting hit, and we had no clue how they found us, but they did. There was a lot of stuff happening at that time. Some of Cole’s uncles turned on him—one of them was the reason I was put in place, but then the war was over. They told me to stay put, just in case Mauricio backtracked, trying to find out who tipped off the Bertals about his car. That was the first of two breaks. Cole came back, and guess who he found still in place? Me. I was still there, pretending to be his buddy. But inside I was mourning my friends who died. I didn’t know what to do. I had no mission anymore, and I wanted to make someone pay.” He rolled his eyes. “I said all the right words, and it worked.” A cold gleam resurfaced in his gaze. “Your boy asked me to work for him, and voila! I’ve been in his trusted circle ever since.”
“He made you his building manager.” I spat. “How trusted is that?”
“Shut up, bitch.” He smacked me across the face.
I tasted blood in my mouth, but I clamped down. No way was I going to cry out, no way I’d give him that satisfaction. I spoke, swallowing some of the blood, “What does this have to do with me?”
“Oh.” He chuckled. “Oh yeah. That was all me. I’m sorry. You see, I’m tired of being in deep cover. There has been peace between the two families, so until something happened where I’d be forced to blow my cover, I’ve been stuck here. I’ve been busy. I’ve been looking for a way out. I was the one who gave your friend the building’s phone number. I did my research. She was your only friend, and I had to make sure you were the only one she’d actually give the number to. Once I was sure, I slipped her the piece of paper and sat back and waited. I wasn’t sure what I’d do if you didn’t take the bait, but you did. Eventually.”