Page 16 of High

Rafael cleared his throat, his gaze darting to Manny and then to me. He widened his eyes and moved swiftly to my side. He rested a hand on my shoulder and leaned closer so he could whisper in my ear. “That trouble we’ve had with the mule that went missing? We found him. He’s outside, Thiago.”

I heaved a sigh and glanced at Manny. “I have some quick business to deal with. After, I’d like to spend the next few days with you. We can catch up.”

Manny snorted. “On what? Maybe I can tell you about the walls of my room that I saw every day for the last four years. Or how about the books I reread so many times I could probably tell you them word for word.”

Rafael pursed his lips at the obvious disrespect, but I shook my head.

“Hermoso, I promise we’ll talk this out. You can yell at me as much as you need.”

He chuckled but it held no humor. Mamá chose that moment to come in.

“Mamá, can you keep Manny company while I deal with something?”

“Of course, mijo. We have a lot to discuss about books.”

At least that was a genuine smile I saw on Manny’s face when she said that.

I rose and stalked out of the room, Rafael following close behind me. Outside the dining room, two guards stood, and I made a gesture at them to keep an eye on Manny and Mamá. They nodded their heads to let me know they understood, and then I was walking toward the back of the mansion and out the door to the short green yard. In the back was a pool half the size of an Olympic, and a wide hot tub to the right of it. Other than that, the yard faced right against the beach and ocean.

In the middle of the grass stood five guards, two with their hands on either side of a sickly, skinny man’s shoulders. He had the look of someone who’d been sampling what he transported, with his glossy eyes and sunken cheeks, yet he still had enough sense to shake beneath the harsh grip of the guards, his body bowed forward.

I stalked across the yard to stand in front of them, and his eyes trailed up my body to meet my glare. “So you’re the mule who thought he could outrun us.”

“Por favor, Jefe. Lo siento. Estaba asustado.”

“Shhh.” I crouched in front of him and shook my head. “I don’t care if you’re sorry or if you were scared. You were given a job and you ran. Just like your friend. Do you know what I did to him?”

The man shook harder, his bushy eyebrows furrowed together and his jaw trembling. “We saw the policía gringa, Jefe. We thought they would catch us.”

“So you disappeared with my drugs?” I grabbed his chin and squeezed it, listening to him whimper. “No, that’s not how this works. I do not like cobardes in my organization. Are you a coward?”

“Por favor, Jefe.” He was crying now, eyes clenched closed as blobs of tears ran down his face. “I have a family.”

“We all have families.” I stood and held out my hand. Rafael passed me a handgun and I pointed it at the mule’s head. “Cowards are replaceable.” I pulled the trigger and the kick from the gun was satisfying as it rocked my arm. The shot echoed through the yard. His head shot backward and his body followed, crumpling on the ground in front of me. “The drugs?”

“Still in his body,” Rafael answered with an uncaring shrug.

“Then cut them out and pray they haven’t broken. Take the corpse to the sea. Let him be eaten by sharks like the rest of them.” I threw the gun at his chest. He caught it before it fell to the ground and bowed his head.

“Sí, Jefe.”

I turned on my heel, and paused when I saw my neighbors sitting on their back patio, watching everything happen. Raising my hand in a wave, I smiled and called, “Good morning, Nico. Parker.”

They both fluttered lazy waves in my direction, and I glanced back at Rafael.

“You know the deal. Pay them off to forget what they saw.”

He nodded and was already giving orders to the men around us in Spanish.

When I was sure it would be handled, I headed back toward the house, my arm stinging in pain from all the movement. But as I reached the glass back door, I stopped. Manny stood there, his eyes wide and mouth parted.

“Manny?” I whispered in shock. I’d thought he was still with Mamá in the formal dining room.

“Did you just kill that man?” he murmured, shaking his head like he couldn’t quite believe what he’d seen.

“Manny—” As I stepped forward, he stumbled backward and spun on his heel, running around the outside of the house toward the front door. “Manny! Wait!”

I rushed after him, and he didn’t manage to get to the door before I had a firm grip on his arm, and I turned him toward me. He struggled, but I held on tighter.

“You killed him!”

“I did what I needed to do,” I growled out, aware of the stares on us from some of the guards. They couldn’t see me be weak because it was hard enough to get respect as a gay man. I hauled Manny along, and then inside and on toward my office, where we could have it out like real men. If he wanted to yell or punch, then he could do it there.

“Thio, stop! Let me go!” He turned and tried to swing at me, but I grabbed his fist and shoved him through the door of my office. He stumbled, running smack-bang into one of the desk chairs. To my surprise he didn’t come at me again, and merely collapsed against the chair’s arm. “You killed him.” It came out as a whisper.

“Yes, I did.” I closed the door behind me before I returned my attention to him. “And I’ll kill again because that’s my job.”