Page 77 of Great White
“So you’ve told me. But like I said. I’m all you got. So deal with it.”
I stare at Tate, wondering if this forceful and brash side that he’s showing is his real personality. Was all the kindness and gentleness just an act? My heart aches at the thought, and my anger flares like a provoked snake.
I was so damn stupid.
“Have you talked to Stefania? Is she okay?”
Tate shakes his head with his eyes concentrated on the road. “I haven’t been in contact with her since I gave up my cover with you. The op is over.”
To hear him talk about the “op.” To think about all the things that happened over the last few months, it makes my stomach sour. He infiltrated himself into our lives. Into our beds, intomyheart.
I don’t know whether I want to throw up or throw a punch right at his head.
“I hate you.”
Tate whips his face in my direction. His eyes are so dark, and pained, and enraged, they almost scare me.
“I risked my entire fucking career for you. The least you can do is put your fangs away,” he snaps at me. I’m not used to this side of Tate. I feel like I’m in the car with a stranger. Then, I realize I am. I don’t know him at all. I don’t know Tate the DEA agent. I know Tate the undercover, playing a part.
I feel all out of sorts. A few days ago, my life was on a completely different path. Today, there isn’t even a path to follow. I’m a drifter with a bounty on my head, and the only person I have to rely on is an ex-lover who is a complete stranger.
“Can I talk to Stefania?”
“No.”
“Why not? What if Raffi is trying to kill her too?”
“As far as we can tell, he isn't. He just has it out for you. That could all change down the line, though. Who knows?”
“You have surveillance on her?”
“Not her, but some of the Rayas cartel. We’re monitoring the info as it comes in.”
“How many is ‘we’?”
Tate glances at me. “We have a whole team. A whole taskforce working on the Rayas, and up until a few days ago, the Deltoros, too.”
“Jesus.” I cross my arms and stare out the front window.
“You can’t be surprised.”
“I’m not, I guess. How did you get Maurice to vouch for you?”
“Your friend Maurice has a drug and hooker problem.”
“Fuckin’ A.” I shake my head. “He got popped and turned?”
Tate nods.
“Snowflake,” I complain.
“Not everyone is you, that’s for sure. Nine times out of ten they sing like nightingales to save their own ass.”
“Yeah, well, that’s why we wanted to keep our family small and close.”
“It was a valiant effort.” Tate doesn't sound encouraging at all.
He's a fed. I know what he’s thinking.They got what they deserve.
