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“You don’t own Rosarito,” he hissed. “I was just visiting some friends.”
“Funny, because I remember making it very clear to you before that this was my town.” I dragged the tip of the gun over the scar I’d left him above his eye.
“Work has been slow, Eric.” He used my name, and I cracked him on the skull for doing so. “Ah!” he yelped but didn’t cower. “Those fuckers in the US, the army wannabes, are making clients jumpy. And there’s been talk.”
“Talk?” I repeated.
“That they’re cracking down on that new operation, Los Débiles.”
“Keep talking.”
“I got word they’re headed down here in a few days.”
I’d heard nothing about this.
“Why? And speak faster.” I knew I had only minutes before someone saw me and might start to record.
“Sources say—”
“What sources do you have?” I laughed in his face.
“My cousin, Tomás, he lives in Washington, got himself a job near the country’s main Army hub. He’s got ears everywhere.” He ran his mouth like a canary. “He’s got this girl whose brother works at a food truck, too. He hears all kinds of shit.”
“Like?” Lord, he was dumb.
“Like that the wannabes are coming here, based off some tip they got that Los Débiles is being run from Rosarito.”
I contemplated driving my fist into his skull, but now that he’d actually provided me with something useful, I figured I could use him for a bit longer.
“Congratulations. Today, you’re not a total idiot.” I pushed him backward, and he stumbled to catch his footing. I thought for a moment then tucked my gun away as a bunch of very white-skinned girls in bikinis walked by on the street. Juan practically licked his lips. “Don’t be an idiot,” I warned. “Listen, maybe for once you can be useful.” He smiled like the dumb fuck he was and gave me his attention. I hoped I wasn’t going to regret this. “If you want work, I’ve got some.” I nodded at Alejandro to give him his number. He snatched the phone from his goon and typed the number in. “If you do this without screwing it up, I’ll consider hiring you more.”
“I won’t.” He acted annoyed, but I knew he needed this.
“Under one condition.” I stepped closer. “You relay any information from your contact in Washington to me first. Understood?”
“Yeah.” He raised his chin at me like he was hard, and I rolled my eyes.
“Good. Now get the fuck off my territory and don’t even think of touching anything on your way out.”
We watched them leave, and Alejandro looked up at me.
“You think that was a wise idea?”
“He’s got something I don’t. Yes, it’s wise.” I shot him a look for questioning me. I looked at my watch. “Let’s go.”
We headed back toward the alley, and the shade from the buildings was a sweet relief from the blazing sun. Once I had it in sight, I started to veer away from the others. I spotted Grim Gates as he stepped from his blacked-out 1965 Pontiac Catalina. He was expensively dressed as usual. I stepped back and watched as he nodded at some biker then walked over to him and they had a few words. I wondered what that was about. As the bike started up, its noisy engine roared, and as he pulled away, I noticed the striped snake on his back.
What Castillo was to Mexico, Grim was to the United States, and no one messed with him if they could help it. He was younger than me by about ten to twelve years and had more connections to the underground than most would ever want to know. I knew his history and was smart enough to keep plenty of distance between him and me. The thing about Grim was once you saw him; you’d never forget him.
I huffed to myself as he walked away. It rubbed me raw that he’d been seen with Talya. I hadn’t spoken to her since I broke her heart, and keeping myself distanced from her had helped, but when Alejandro showed me a picture of the two of them the other day, I felt like I’d been hit by a truck. Grim disappeared into a house, and I shook the nasty thoughts away.
“I’ll meet you back at the house,” I ordered.
“Where does he disappear to?” Filippo asked.
“Church.” Alejandro answered his question.
“But he only goes a few times a month. How’s that even worth it?”
