“¿En realidad?(Really?)”
Instead of replying, I checked our surroundings again as we neared the entrance.
“¿Una linterna, Shio?(A flashlight, Shio?)”
Approaching the door, which was worn down wood and burgundy in color, I said in a whisper, “Point it when I say so.”
She couldn’t shoot, and she was coming off a cocaine high. If I handed her a gun, she’d fuck around and shoot her damn self. I wasn’t the slightest bit worried about her shooting me. Solana would never point no toolie at me, and I could bet on that.
Lifting my foot, I rammed it into the door, knocking it off the hinges. The smell of water, sewage, and something dead hung in the air as I let the gun lead the way. It was pitch dark inside, but I could sense bodies. I hadn’t seen the blueprints to know the lay out—another thing that had me feeling off my square.
“Turn on the flashlight.”
I could hear Solana’s breathing as I focused on everything around us.
The flashlight clicked and when she lifted it, I pulled Solana behind me, rotating my gun.
“Cuando mi hermano me dijo que eras valiente, no podía creerlo. Tenía que verlo con mis propios ojos.(When my brother told me you were brave, I couldn’t believe it. I had to see it with my own eyes.)”
The voice got closer, and we came face-to-face with a stockier Felipe. He looked a year or two younger but just as bitch-ass as his brother. He wasn’t alone, though. My eyes trailed the appearing bodies. We were surrounded by about fifty armed Hispanics, give or take a few. I was outnumbered, as I expected, but I held my head high, kept my spine straight, and my chest out. I aimed my gun at the ringleader and his weak-ass crew. Every time I moved my gun, Solana moved the flashlight while staying behind my back. Looking around, I was pissed that I hadn’t let my team accompany me, but this was my mess. I just needed to figure out how to clean it up without dying and getting Solana killed.
Pointing my gun back to this chubby, 6ix9ine-looking nigga, I grinned. Felipe’s brother was at least a whole foot shorter than me, with a buzz cut and tattoos all over his face. All he needed was the colored lace front and he’d be closer in resemblance to the rapper than Felipe.
“Me no speak no Espanol, bitch-ass nigga.”
He chuckled, lifted his hand, and snapped his finger. The lights came on with a low rumble, and I immediately scanned the space to see if I could find Bahati. Having no sight of her, I mapped out the visible exits. There was a long hall to the left with closed doors, so I assumed that’s where Bahati and our child were. Now that there was light, it was easy to see this place had been a restaurant once upon a time. There were tables with chairs stacked on top of them in a far right corner, and there was a bar behind me to the left. I could also see a kitchen beyond the bar.
There is an exit in the kitchen. Has to be.
He stared at me with amusement, like I wouldn’t pull this trigger even with fifty other guns pointed at me. That shit didn’t move me one way or another. I noticed when his attention moved from me to Solana. She still had the flashlight pointed at him, and his smile fell.
“Sabes, ¿verdad? Que mi hermano se case contigo no va a impedir que todos te follemos por todos los agujeros, ¿verdad?(You do know, my brother marrying you isn’t going to stop us all from fucking you in every hole. Right?)”
I didn’t take my eyes off him, even though he was staring at Solana as if she were fresh meat. Her body was still protected by me, but she had her head curled around my shoulder so she could follow me with the flashlight.
“¿Eliges a este negro de mierda por encima de nosotros? Vas a desear no haberlo hecho. (You choose this piece-of-shit black nigger over us? You’re going to wish you hadn’t.)”
I could feel Solana tense, so I used my free hand to pull her from my back and brought her to my front, keeping my gun aimed. The duffel was crossed over my chest, so she wasn’t being used as a shield. I needed her to stay focused. If she succumbed to her fear, she’d die in this building today.
“Where they at?” I said before tapping Solana’s hip so that she could translate. His brother didn’t know I could speak Spanish, and I didn’t want his fat ass to know either.
She shuddered, swallowed, and tilted her head as I watched chubster becoming infuriated about our closeness.
“¿Dónde están su hija y su madre?(Where is his daughter and her mother?)”
His grin spread again, revealing two open-faced gold teeth. “Solana, esta es tu última oportunidad para venir. De lo contrario, morirás esta noche.(Solana, this is your last chance to come. Otherwise, you'll die tonight.)”
“What he say?” I asked.
Solana cleared her throat. “Nothing… But they are indeed alive.”
“Eres una puta estúpida. ¿Qué coño quieres con un negro americano? Somos los Rodríguez. Nuestra familia controla México. Podrías haber vivido bien. Ahora, sufrirás y te follarán hasta que sangres. Tu padre no puede salvarte. Tus hermanos no pueden salvarte. Este negro del ejército no puede salvarte... Quizás te quite la virginidad primero. Hace tiempo que no me follo a una virgen. (You stupid fucking whore. What the fuck do you want with a Black American man? We are the Rodríguez family. Our family runs Mexico. You could have lived well. Now, you’ll suffer and get fucked until you bleed. Your father can’t save you. Your brothers can’t save you. This one army nigger can’t save you... Maybe I’ll take your virginity first. It’s been a long time since I fucked a virgin.)
Running my tongue over my teeth, I huffed. “Maybe in another life, bitch-ass nigga.”
Pushing Solana to the ground, I covered her just as shots were let off. My gun hadn’t let off a shot, so the men were caught off guard, and that shit cost them.
“Andale! Andale! All this fuckin’ quesadilla talk got a nigga hungry.”
