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I nodded and sat behind my desk.
“We’ll wait for him then. Sit.” Sarge lowered himself into one of the dark leather chairs. “Drink?” I used my chin to point toward the bar. Yeah, it was early morning, but I had a feeling whatever was going down might require a bit of alcohol.
“No, Boss.”
I tipped my head in acknowledgement. Five minutes later, I buzzed Milo into the study. He didn’t look nearly as put together as Sarge. Still wearing the same suit from last night, my lieutenant’s hair was a mess, his tie crooked, and his mouth red and swollen and turned down in the corners.
“I hope we didn’t interrupt anything important.” Sarcasm dripped from my voice and I smirked at Milo, knowing from the smears of lipstick on his face exactly what we’d interrupted.
“Shit, Boss. My nuts are fucking killing me. Goddamn blue balls.” Milo frowned. “You could have at least waited till I finished.” Milo had no problem making himself a drink before dropping into the chair next to Sarge.
“All right, what do you have?” I turned my attention to my head of security.
“After your meeting with El Cuchillo, George and Three followed his car like you asked.”
“And?”
“He proceeded to another club, this one in San Antonio.”
That in itself wasn’t surprising. San Antonio was his territory, after all.
Milo huffed. “What’s your goddamn point, Sarge?” I shot Milo a dark look warning him to shut the fuck up. I didn’t give a flying fuck if he was in the middle of the best goddamn blowjob of his life. He needed to stop being cranky and suck it up. When he got a call, his job was to show up and do whatever the fuck he was told. I paid plenty for him to be at my beck and call. He could bust a nut later.
Sarge visibly bristled at Milo, but continued. “He had another meeting. With Brick.”
“What the fuck?” Milo stood up, his face suddenly a deep shade of crimson. His eyes darted to mine, the anger in them palpable. “That fucking double-crossing douchebag. I told you we couldn’t trust his skinny ass.”
“Sit down.” On the outside, I appeared calm, but inside, I was as furious as Milo. El Cuchillo left my meeting to go directly to another. This one with the head of heroin distribution in Houston. Little fucking shit. Shouting, however, didn’t do anything to change the new development.
Milo snarled and fell back into his chair, but his shoulders were pulled up to his ears and his fists balled in his lap. My lieutenant was ready to blow. His reaction was exactly why he was so useful to my organization. Violent. Reactive. Ruthless.
I turned back to Sarge. “Did our men hear anything that was discussed?”
“No, Boss. The club was too open for them to get close and not get made by Brick or El Cuchillo.”
I took a moment to think, steepling my fingers in front of my mouth before unfolding my hands and reclining in my chair. “So either he’s playing us or Brick, or possibly both of us.”
“Maybe he’s trying to get us to fight each other so he doesn’t have to get his hands dirty?” Milo offered.
Fear prickled the back of my neck. “We’re in between Los Guerreros territory and Brick’s. We couldn’t stay uninvolved if El Cuchillo decided to go to war with Houston. It’s very possible he’s setting us up to fight Brick for him, but it’s more likely he’s offering the same deal to both of us and waiting to see who takes him up on it. Then he’ll combine forces and take out the third.”
“We didn’t accept his terms, Boss,” Milo reminded me, a deep scowl on his face.
“No, we didn’t. That doesn’t mean Brick will either.”
“Brick will,” Milo said confidently.
“What did El Cuchillo offer?” Sarge’s eyes bounced back and forth between a fuming Milo and me.
Half the reason Milo was so worked up was because he believed it was a mistake to pass on El Cuchillo’s business venture. Milo thought branching out our operation from heroin was a great idea. My lieutenant had no clue I’d rather die before I ever got involved with what El Cuchillo was offering. Milo blamed my refusal on Miri, thinking she made me too weak and emotional to accept the new business arrangement. He didn’t come right out and say it—he knew I’d kill him if he did—but Milo had dropped enough hints since Miri showed up for me to know exactly how he felt about her and how he perceived her supposed influence over me.
Breathing deep, I tamped down my anger for the second time tonight. Earlier, sitting in a loud, crowded club, it was easier to keep my face neutral as the head of the heroin cartel in San Antonio spewed off his newest venture like he reinvented the goddamn wheel. He expected me to what? Was I supposed to clap with joy and praise the prick for including me in his disgusting endeavor? Fuck him.
I swallowed back the rising bile before answering Sarge. “He’s going to deal in women.”
Sarge’s mouth fell open and his eyes widened. “Women? You mean whores, right?”
“No.” I gripped the arms of my chair until my fingers ached. “Not whores. Cuchillo is going to…” I paused to choke back a scream. “…Traffic kidnapped women and girls to sell into sexual slavery.” I spoke through clenched teeth as I struggled to control my knee-jerk reaction to flip out my knives and fucking kill someone.
