For the next day, we drove South down the West coast of the country. By late afternoon, we had reached Sacramento and Luca needed gas.
"Why Mexico?" I asked as we drove around looking for a gas station.
"I just need to pick something up and then we can have a fun time wearing sombreros and drinking tequila," he replied casually as he scanned the road ahead of us.
I ignored the last half of his sentence and asked, "to pick what up?"
"Something from these people I know...don't worry about it" he replied quite vaguely before giving me an innocent smile that was clearly hiding something.
"I know that look," I said a sinking feeling in my stomach.
We had just pulled up at a gas station and Luca turned to me and smiled again, "What look?"
"That smile that says "I'm just an innocent little baby and I've never set a foot wrong in my life." I know you're not Luca Romano. How do you know people in Mexico?"
"I come sometimes. Once every month to be precise."
"Why?" I asked.
"Just to bring something over the border," he said. "I said, don't worry about it."
"Are you a drug dealer?!" I whispered shouted.
"Not exactly," he said with a wink before getting out the car to fill it up.
"Luca!" I exclaimed but he shut the car door.
I instantly got out and looked at him over the roof of the car from the other side of it.
"Are you going to elaborate?!" I asked.
"On what?"
"On the fact that you are a fucking drug dealer!"
"Ella, keep your voice down," he said. "I'll tell you later just get back in the car. The whole gas station doesn't need to know."
I sighed and got back in the car as he finished putting the gas in the car and then went to pay.
He better have a good explanation for this.
"So?" I asked as he eventually came back and started the engine. "Why the fuck are you dealing drugs?!"
"I'm not," he stated.
"Don't be blunt with me," I snapped. "Dealing, trafficking, buying, selling, using or whatever!"
"It is racist to assume that because I go to Mexico, I must be involved with drugs. It is a beautiful country with thousands of lovely people," he replied calmly.
"I'm sure it is but how do you know these lovely people in Mexico?" I asked.
"Oh, I work for them," he replied.
"And what is their line of work?"
"Drug dealing."
"For fuck's sake," I mumbled. "Could you not have just said that to start with? And why the fuck are you involved in drugs?" I asked. "You have a job. Gamma of the Stella pack! You get paid loads!"
"Relax..."
"Relax? I am in the car with a drug dealer and we are on our way to Mexico to pick up drugs-"
"Ella," he interrupted loudly. "It is part of my job as Gamma. There is a gang of criminals in Mexico. Werewolf drug dealers, if you like, that are a threat to the pack. Leo sent me to get friendly with them, find shit out and report back to him.copy right hot novel pub