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Warily, I drive back to the apartment that’s become my unofficial headquarters in this shitty part of Terra Rodea, Texas, and I fashion a new plan. Enough crawling around the outskirts of the narcos’ empire.
It’s time to dive in headfirst and go straight to the man who rules them all.
The kingpin. The nightmare. The coldest, cruelest bastard in these parts.
I’ll beg for his help on my hands and knees if I have to. Or, should he so choose…
On my back.
CHAPTERTWO
Some men simply can’t be characterized by a chilling reputation alone. They have a body count. On the national index of several countries, they have an entire page dedicated to their crimes. The kind of men the law can’t touch.
Julian Domingas comfortably sits at the top of that list of infamous narcos. A known trafficker with enough money and influence to rival several small countries, he is a force to be reckoned with, if not the most powerful man on earth. If anyone can get Francisco out of Braulio’s hands, it’s him. I’d stake my life on it.
Though, I might lose a lot more than that in the end. Fighting a formidable monster sometimes requires allying with a more vicious one. Occasionally, you’ll need the devil himself.
Despite the insane risk, I tell myself what a good idea it is. How smart. How logical. How entirelynotstupid.
As always, Pedro is there to loudly put me in my place. He arrived not long after I returned from the bar, summoned by a frantic text message. After hearing my plan out loud, he laughed before raiding my minuscule liquor cabinet for a bottle of whiskey.
“Jaguar’s men would gut you before you could get within two feet of him, let alone ask him to take on a rival just for you,” he declares before downing his drink. “You think Braulio’s heartless? Just wait. Even trying to talk to Jaguar is suicide. No, it’s beyond that, Pita. It’s plain, fucking masochism. You have a death wish? Try heroin and booze like the rest of us.”
I roll my eyes without comment. Been there. Done that. I rely on a new vice these days, and it seems to be blindly hoping to change my fate with sheer willpower and bad luck. In a sense, it’s only slightly less debilitating than any addiction.
“Rumor has it he’s a sadist,” I reply, thoughtfully biting my lower lip. “A tactic like debasing myself might appeal more to someone like him.”
“Oh no.” Pedro throws his hands into the air and raises a heavily filled-in eyebrow. Paired with his made-up eyes and short brown hair, even I can admit that he’s stunning. “First, you wanted to seduce some low-level sex trafficker in your grand scheme. Now you jump to debasing yourself before a crime lord? Is there nothing you won’t stop at?”
“No,” I say seriously. We’re in my tiny living room, and perched on a battered end table is one of the few pictures I own—one of Franco taken at his school. He’s so damn beautiful. So innocent. I can’t just leave him in Braulio’s grasp.
When Pedro sighs, I know he’s followed my gaze to the same image.
“I won’t stop,” I say softly. “Not until I get Franco away from that sick bastard. There is no way in hell I’ll ever let that monster Braulio keep him. Never.”
Pedro raises another perfectly-plucked eyebrow. “And Jaguar is any better? Braulio may be a snake, but some might consider a snake a better provider than a…well, a hungry jaguar. Let’s say you convince him to take down Braulio and his gang, and then what? He’ll let you skip off into the sunset with his rival’s pride and joy? It’s bullshit, Pita, though I’m sure you already know that.”
I raise an eyebrow as well and watch as Pedro sashays over to my kitchenette to grab a handful of ice from the freezer. “You seem to think that I plan on sitting back and letting Jaguar be my knight in shining armor, should I be able to convince him to help,” I say. “No. I’ll let the snake and the jaguar kill each other while I sneak off unnoticed with a child neither bastard truly gives a damn about. That, my dear, is what you call a win-win.”
Or insanity, but I’m already sold on the concept, and frankly, it’s the only solid plan I have.
“Besides, I need to strike before Braulio takes Franco from the country.”
“I should have never told you that,” Pedro says, shaking his head. “Damn me for being such a gossip.”
A gossip who gets his rumors from sources he refuses to tell me about. Given his “profession,” Pedro has always been able to score incredible intel—no matter how devastating it turns out to be.
“But you did tell me,” I say. “After exhausting every reasonable avenue, I need some way to keep him here. I have to try.You’rethe expert on men, Pedro,” I add, abruptly changing the subject. Dressed in a low-cut red dress with one nipple brazenly exposed, no one could deny that Pedro has an appeal few women possess, let alone me. Luck or charm isn’t the source of his success. No, seduction is a skill he’s honed through a life of pain and misery, scrapping for whatever living he could find by any means.
Even though he isn’t proud of his circumstances, he is damn proud of having survived to see himself established in a much-better position than where he started. He rarely tells me about his escapades, but his lifestyle doesn’t come cheap, and I know the rumors. He deals with powerful men. Even some in the cartels. Perhaps Julian Domingas himself?
The sad part is that I know Pedro won’t tell even if he does. In addition to his wits and sheer determination, his knack for discretion has kept him alive.
Even so, he knows a thing or two about seduction, and I’m eager to learn from him.
“Teach me your ways, oh master,” I plead.
“You? Turn tricks for the rich and powerful?” Pedro frowns and gives me a once-over. Whatever impression I make has him clucking his tongue in despair. “Dios mío.Your hair could use a good wash for a start. Whatever this look is—” He waves disapprovingly at my denim shorts and low-cut tank top. “Might work on those cheap asspendejosat the strip club, but for a man like Jaguar? Oh, honey. Your whole approach will need fine-tuning, and honestly, I’m not sure you can even pull it off.”
