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“No.” He scowls, puzzled, as he says, “it was around a titty bar in Fort Collins. One owned by the Cortez brothers. Nothing special.”
I sit forward, racking my brain. “The Cortez brothers?” I know that name, but how?
“Boaz and Bastian,” Pedro explains. “They’re both fixers, known to work under none other than Jaguar. Maybe your newpapiis more involved than he’s let on.”
I shudder at the possibility. “I wouldn’t put it past him.”
“Well, I hope not. Julian Domingas is a man even I would never fuck with—literally or figuratively. From what I’ve heard, he has more than earned his fearsome reputation.”
“How so?” I lift my head to witness his fearful grimace.
“You remember that big-shot politician guy? Roy Pavalos?”
I do, but vaguely. “I remember the news reports. He was in a car crash or something—”
“That’s the official story,” Pedro interjects, wagging a finger. “The bastard was running for governor at one point and had the sheriff’s office in the palm of his hand. He was a monolith, seemingly too big to fail. Rumor has it, he and his family aimed to cut into Jaguar’s territory south of the border—push him out of the cocaine trade in that region completely.”
“What happened?” I ask, though I’m sure I already know the answer.
“Flash forward to a year later, Roy Pavalos is dead, his family is in ruins, and Jaguar’s empire is still running, even stronger than ever. Word has it, Jaguar’s brother is the one who took the old man out—”
“His brother?” I nearly fall off the bench as I sit forward. “Juan?”
Pedro gives me an odd look. “No. My mistake. From what I know, Domino Valenciaga wasn’t Jaguar’s blood brother per se, but Jaguar liked to dance him around like a little puppet. The nickname of ‘brother’ caught on.”
“A nickname,” I echo under my breath. Could this Domino be connected to Navid, the boy who received Juan’s heart?
“Tiena may be a selfish bitch, but she doesn’t have shit on Jaguar. She just abandons you, but ifhewas your jealous sibling? He’d probably kill you—hey, Pita? You seem shaken up, girl.” Pedro raises an eyebrow, his green eyes piercing. “Is there anything else going on?”
Where to begin? I take a deep breath and decide to address the elephant in the room.
“You… You mentioned Diego before.” God, I can barely say his name. “Why?”
“Just a hunch,” Pedro says, frowning. “Rumors have run rampant about a new player in town who might edge onto Jaguar’s turf. Talk like that is always floating around, mind you, but this time it feels different. After everything with Braulio and Tiena, I’m inclined to take them seriously.”
Could that “player” be Diego? My skin crawls at the thought and, for once, my sister’s drama is more appealing.
“Speaking of Braulio,” I say to preface the change in subject, “he’s gone into hiding. That’s not like him. Poor Franco’s worried sick.”
And the Braulio I know isn’t cautious in the slightest—he’s reckless, prone to strutting around like a peacock rather than cowering.
Pedro lifts his shoulders. “He probably knows that Jaguar will filet his ass without a second thought.”
“It’s more than that. Even Franco seems worried.” I tell him what he said to me, and Pedro’s eyes go bug-wide.
“Flood—” He wags a finger, clicking his tongue in recognition. “That’s a term I’ve heard thrown around when some small-time gangster wants to push another out of his turf. He lowers his prices and ups his quality to drive the competition out of the market.”
It’s a likely scenario, more logical than a Biblical flood, at least. “Do you think Braulio would be brave enough to try something like that?”
“I don’t know. For Franco’s sake, I hope not. Jaguar is the kind of man you should never turn your back on. I warned you about fucking with him in the first place. We’re both just lucky you have him pussy-whipped.”
“I’m sorry,” I say with a heavy sigh. “For dragging you into this. It’s all my fault—”
“Enough of that!” Pedro waves me off with a flick of his manicured fingers. “Besides, getting kidnapped has put a few things into perspective. Maybe your paranoia was rubbing off on me, but for the past few days, I’ve felt jumpy. Like I was being followed or something.” He shudders and wraps his arms around his slender chest. “Turns out, I was right, but thank God I’ve gotten a free penthouse vacation and a spa day out of it. Though, I would rather not find myself—or you and Franco—in the middle of a turf war. Maybe Braulio is stupid enough to make a play for Jaguar’s territory. Maybe not. Perhaps you should let Jaguar know anyway. I can tell you’re dying to get back to Franco. Go. I can see what else this spa has to offer. Maybe get a massage or body scrub.”
“Are you sure?” I’m already starting to stand, holding my towel around me.
Pedro nods. “Go. I’m sure Franco isn’t the only reason you want to get back to him. The way he looks at you…” He whistles, sounding both horrified and intrigued. “It’s like he wants to eat you up with a fucking spoon. Not even my most deranged clients look at me like that, and I doubt any of them are packing half of what Jaguar is between his legs.”
