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The smell of an open flame and meat permeates the air. Juan is at the grill while Maria prepares a few typical dishes for our guest; a few salads, rice and beans, fried green plantains and empanadas. It’s been hours since my last meal and I’m starving, feeling a bit agitated by his lack of faith.
“It’s not you I’m worried about per se…” he trails off and I tilt my head to the side, raising a brow. “There’s been a few rumors. You know people talk—”
“About what?” No one misses the bite in my tone and his men tense, two reaching back to grab the guns tucked at their waistbands. Idiots. What they fail to realize in their cockiness, the bravado that anyone with power suffocates in, is that no one is invincible.
It’s the most obvious that gets you killed.
Danger is always in front of your face, not hidden.
Like now, I scratch my chin and two of my men get into position, the scopes at the end of their semi-automatics barely visible from the roof’s edge. A dangerous scenario for anyone that pisses me off.
Those snipers are on my payroll. Are loyal to me.
Roberto shifts his eyes to Carlos, who’s busy laughing, not a single care in the world while I break down their actions. Mannerisms.
“Who’s talking?” my father asks, his own hand clenching once before he grabs his own beer. “Please share.”
“They’re saying you’re distracted by a woman.”
“Is that all?” I laugh, a harsh, sardonic sound that fills the now-quiet space. And just as soon as it starts, it stops when I turn my hard eyes on a still-chuckling Carlos. The man is oblivious to my mounting ire.
“No disrespect meant, my friend.” Roberto is a smart man. It’s why he’s still alive when so many have fallen before him. He thinks. Plots. Makes the right investments.
I recognize in him what he sees in me: no remorse.
In this business he needs someone to trust with his assets, and I make a fortune from each transaction. It works, until it doesn’t.
At this moment, it’s becoming a failure.
“I fail to see how my private life holds weight over my business.”
“This came from someone close to you. A Jimmy Cross?”
His noose just grew tighter. “I know the name, yet it still doesn’t answer why it should matter to anyone.”
“To me, it doesn’t. I just wanted to address—”
“See, boss.” Carlos slaps a hand down on the table. The impact causes his drink to spill, and the asshole has the audacity to snap a finger at Maria to clean it. She makes a move to do so, but the shake of my head stops her in her tracks. Something he doesn’t notice. Nor does he realize that three hands on this table have moved beneath the wood. “I told you Malcolm doesn’t let a meaningless fuck control him.”
“Enough, Carlos,” Roberto hisses from between clenching teeth, a hand up but no call to action. To remove the asshole.
Shaking his head, Carlos grabs Roberto’s bottle and drains what’s left in two deep pulls. Once it’s empty, he slams it down with a sneer on his face. “Pussy is a dime a dozen and most come attached to a whore—”
His head flies back from the impact of my bullet, blood splattering his boss and Carmelo. Neither so much as flinch. No other guns go off.
Instead, we watch as Carlos’s body slumps with his head hanging at an awkward angle, red dripping from the exit point at the back of his head. It pools on the floor below and then spreads along the grout lines of my terra-cotta tiles.
There are small bits of flesh and bone fragmented by the force, sticking to the pillars and walls near his body. The scene is gory and a bit gruesome, and yet, I feel a sense of relief settle deep into my bones.
My agitation is somewhat sated. At once, I’m a little calmer.
“Thank you for that.” That comes from Roberto; he’s wearing a tiny grin on his face. “Motherfucker was driving me insane.”
“Why didn’t you just put him down?” I place my gun atop the table, and then pick up my drink to take a hearty sip. “The man was obnoxious.”
“Idiot was my wife’s cousin.” Roberto shrugs, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket to wipe the few splatters on his face. “You know…” he waves a hand in the air “…family and all that shit.”
“And this won’t cause an issue?” Snapping my fingers gets everyone moving. Roberto’s men take the body into a large storage I have in the woods, while mine will assist in preparing the corpse for transportation back to whatever family he has. Maria’s already cleaning, abandoning her cooking for the moment, while her husband goes around the table refilling drinks and then replacing the ruined chair.
