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“I know.”
“I’ll tell you anything—”
“In exchange for your life?”
His head bobs in affirmative and his bottom lip trembles. “I’m just a paid Sicario with no affiliation. It’s just a contract.”
“Geronimo, please attend to our dear friend who pissed himself. I’ll need your help with this one.”
“Si, Patron.”
“Hagale.” Three cars come to a screeching stop and doors open a second after Geronimo empties his magazine in the body of my friend, the Sicario’s compadre. Each bullet ricochets off the ground and empty businesses behind us as blood splatters, becoming a light mist surrounding us. And as the body drops and his chest no longer expands with a ragged breath, the rest of my men begin to dispose of the scene. “Get him into a car and delivered to my home. We have much to discuss and at the moment, understandably, he’s gone into shock.”
“Of course. Consider it done—”
“Tombos!” Lino yells out, coming around the corner and limping. There’s a bloodstain growing on his right side, his teeth are gritted from pain, but I’m more focused on the hand he’s holding. In the handprint across her cheek. “Three squad cars just pulled into the bar and we had to take the long route. I don’t know how long it’ll take for them to come this way or if anyone mentions hearing something.”
“What the fuck happened?”
“He saved me, brother. That man…he,” Lourdes breaks out into a sob, her body shaking so hard, and I pull her into my chest. What she’s been through will leave a mark, and it’ll take years for her to recover. “The one they call Chucky broke into my room and he…he almost!”
“I shot him in the dick, then shoved my gun down his throat and pulled the trigger.” Lino finishes, but his story leaves more questions than answers. His eyes are not on me, though, and I watch him take her in. Not with lust but with respect. With a mixture of admiration and guilt.
I clear my throat and his eyes meet mine. “Thank you, Lino. I owe you one.”
“No thanks needed.” He tilts her head in Lourdes's direction and cups one hand over her ears. There are things he doesn’t want her to hear, and I take the hint. “Both are dead, and I only followed the tracks his friend left toward the asshole in her room—boasting about it in the men’s bathroom—before I blew his brains.”
“Explain later.” At my command he nods, the wound on his side making him stumble when he turns toward his uncle, who’s watching with concern. I give them both a head shake that all is fine. “Get him in the car and jump behind the wheel. These two need a doctor and fast.”
“We’ll be back to the copter in ten, sir. I’ll call ahead and have medical aid waiting.”
“Hagale. Let’s get out of here.”
“Q’hubo, cousin. How are the States treating you?” I say as soon as he picks up. He’d left me a voicemail earlier in the day for me to reach out but it’s been impossible until now, especially as I’m transporting a wounded soldier and my sister back home and the news of Emiliano’s arrest along with two guards have dominated all forms of domestic media.
Quintero’s preening like a peacock one second and dodging questions on the disappearance of his family the next.
“Can’t complain,” Javier chuckles, the sound of a door opening and closing coming through the line. “Been a few busy months, but things are beginning to calm down now.”
“You good?”
“I am. Getting engaged soon.”
“Is that so?” A chuckle escapes me and I close my eyes while Geronimo drives us back to my home where my Preciosa and the others wait for me. “You sure Mariah won’t run? Spending her life with your ugly mug isn’t a prize.”
“Fuck you, asshole.” His amusement ceases almost as soon as it appears. “We’ll catch up on that later because you will be attending, but I don’t have much time and I need you to call someone in Miami. He has what you’re looking for.”
“And what’s that?”
“Guns and targets.”
“How many and what kind?” I’m already calculating the slight change in the course. I can stay here and search for Salazar while Daniel goes to Florida with a few of my men. My priority is here, but bulk purchases like these are necessary for what’s to come. “My men can—”
“You have to attend, primo. It’s impolite otherwise as this is a business associate of Mr. Asher.”
“Javier, my sister and Solimar come first.” My eyes flick behind me where a sleeping Lourdes snores lowly. She’s tired and bruised—alive, and that’s all that matters.
“Just trust me.”
