Page 21 of Reno

Knowing that each step I took placed me one step closer to death, I thought of what life would be like if Angel didn’t exist. If Reno wasn’t a heartbreaker. If two of the cartel’s drug mules hadn’t been killed in the parking lot less that twenty-four hours beforehand.

Lost in a delusional world of what-ifs, I waltzed toward where Reno was seated, wishing there was a way to fix everything. I sat down across from him and let out a breath of frustration before telling him the sad truth.

“He hasn’t been here since he was a teenager,” I explained. “With the reward the DEA is offering, I seriously doubt there’s a way to get him to cross the border.”

“What’s important to him?” Reno asked. “What does he care about?”

The only person Angel truly cared about was himself. Family meant nothing to him. He had no friends. The only reason he continuously chased me was because he felt that I was his. That he owned me. When I left, I stole something that was his.

“He cares about nothing,” I responded. “Look at me, for instance. He’s so angry that I won’t be with him that he sends men here to kidnap me nearly ten years after I left him. But he won’t come himself. That’s because I’m not worth the risk.”

“There’s nothing that’ll cause him to come over the border?”

“He doesn’t care about the things normal people care about, I can tell you that. Kidnapping a family member won’t work, if that’s what you’re thinking. Family means nothing to him. He killed his own brother. Kidnapping his friends for ransom is out of the question, because he has no real friends. Even if he did, he’d tell you to kill them before he’d give you a cent in exchange for their freedom.”

“What about money?” he asked. “Do you think we could lure him here with money?”

“Money is the only thing that matters to him. I’m sure you could lure him here with the promise of financial gain, but it would take a lot of money to do it.”

“How much is a lot?”

It would take a seven-digit figure to coerce Angel to cross the border. I had a little over twenty thousand dollars saved. I didn’t know what Reno had available, but I doubted it was the difference between twenty grand and two million. I wondered what difficulties would come with obtaining Canadian citizenship and further wondered why it took me so long to consider it.

“I’m sure it would take a few million.” I fidgeted with the hair tie at the end of my braid for a moment and then looked up. “Do you know anything about getting Canadian citizenship? Is it difficult?”

His eyes lit up.

Going north must have been the answer. I straightened my posture in anticipation of organizing an impromptu trip to the Canadian border. I wondered if Reno would come, or if he would take his chances with Angel. Either way, I’d have to get some cold weather clothes. Heck, I didn’t even own a sweater. I envisioned buying a sled and a team of Huskies to take me to work at a ski lodge high atop the Canadian Rockies. Angel would never find me there. He detested cold weather.

“Do you think he’d come for a few million?” he asked.

The look on his face led me to believe that obtaining the money would be no big deal.

My older brother always said the filthy rich never looked rich. With his tattered jeans, worn boots, and faded gray tee shirt, anyone’s guess of Reno would be that he’d have a tough time gathering up the money to pay for the taco dinner he ate.

Maybe my brother was right.

I cast my sweater shopping plans aside and nodded in agreement. “I think under the right circumstances he’d come here for money.”

“What kind of circumstances?”

“A few million.”

He smirked. “A few, like two million? Or a few, like ten?”

“I know he’d come for ten,” I responded. “He’d likely come for two. So, somewhere between two and ten. People think the cartel makes hundreds of millions on each drug deal, but they don’t. A big deal to them is a million dollars. Two or three million is a huge deal. You don’t have two million dollars, do you?”

“I need this prick to vanish just as much as you,” he responded matter-of-factly. “Let’s say, for the sake of saying it, that I know people who can gather that kind of money. How would we lure him here?”

“I guess there would have to be a drug buy set up where you said you’d only deal with him. But, he’s no fool. He’d immediately assume you were with the federal government. That you were a DEA agent, or whatever. I don’t know. I’ll have to think about it.”

He balled his hand into a fist and pressed it against his palm. His gaze dropped to the table. He stared at nothing for some time, seeming to be lost in thought.

Amidst the complications of killing the two men, Reno continued to smile, joke, and continually undress me with his eyes. Now, it seemed his attitude toward me had changed completely.

He was all business.

It was understandable. We were both on Angel’s list of people who were least likely to live another week.