Page 452 of Devil’s Disciples

He cleared his throat. “After tonight, they won’t be back.”

“How can you be sure?”

“Because,” he said flatly. “They’re both dead.”

My heart stopped beating. My ears rang. I looked around the dining room, scanned the parking lot and then looked at him. “Really? Dead? Like dead?”

He nodded.

“Oh my God.” I swallowed a lump of fear. “Thank you. You have no idea how relieved I am. What happened?”

“Chicken Man tried to shoot me,” he replied. “Luckily, I shot him first.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah.” He tilted his head toward the parking lot. “They’re as dead as disco.”

Relief washed over me. I’d seen remnants of El Pollo’s violent tirades for years. At Angel’s insistence, he had tortured and killed dozens of men. There was no place on earth for a man like him. If he was dead, the world was a better place.

Period.

He cocked his head to the side and gave me a funny look. “Why are you smiling?”

I blinked my eyes a few times, bringing myself back to the reality of the situation. “Three reasons, I guess. One; because, if you’re serious, that’s the best news I’ve ever heard. Ever. Two; I’ve never heard that phrase. Dead as disco. I thought it was funny. And, three; you make me feel safe enough to smile.”

“I’m fuckin’ flattered,” he said dryly. “But we’ve got a serious situation on our hands.”

His gaze dropped to the floor.

Beyond him, Pee Bee was swinging the hammer again. Everyone seemed to be enjoying the show. El Pollo’s death didn’t bother me, but I knew what kind of monster he was. I wondered how the men in the parking lot could be laughing and having fun following the death of someone they didn’t know.

After a moment of thought, Reno looked up.

“I’m a decorated war vet who is in possession of a legally registered handgun,” he explained. “When we were getting ready to leave the premises, those two fucktards tried to rob Pee Bee. I pulled my gun from my saddlebag, demanded that they drop theirs, and they refused. In fact, that Chicken dude tried to shoot me. Luckily, I killed him before he killed me. If I call the cops, they’ll come here, interview everyone, and declare it self-defense. They’ll let me go and haul those two turds to the morgue. I’ve got seven witnesses to corroborate my story, and that’s all that matters. But. The cops are going to ask a lot of questions. Not only from me, but from you.”

“I can’t talk to the police,” I blurted. It was time to admit who I was. Having Reno look down his nose at me was the least of my worries. “If I do, they’ll have me deported.”

“You’re an illegal?”

I gave an embarrassing nod. “I am.”

“So, you don’t want me to call the cops?”

I wouldn’t think being rid of El Pollo would create so many problems, but it had. I was back to being deported to the country I’d fled from. The situation was awful. “I uhhm. I…are there any other options?”

He cocked his head. “Like what?”

I shrugged. “Get rid of the bodies?”

“If we get rid of the bodies, the situation I spoke of goes from self-defense to murder.” His eyes thinned. “You’re asking a lot from me.”

“Can you guys just go, and leave them here? I’ll see if my dad can come help me. Between him and my brother, I’m sure we can get it taken care of.”

He laughed. “You dad’s going to help you get rid of the bodies?”

“I think so. He despises the cartel as much as anyone. It’s hard to explain to someone who hasn’t lived in fear of them for their entire life.”

He covered his mouth with his hand and gave the matter some serious thought. While the wheels in his head were spinning, I wondered how receptive my father would be to burying the two bodies. Realistically, I decided, not very.