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“The man is the leader of one of the biggest fucking organizations in Mexico. I doubt he’s going to be caught dead in some shitty neighborhood.”
“No one would expect him to be here. That’s why he just might.”
“We’ve been sitting here for hours.”
“And you’re acting like you’ve never cased a fucking house before. Shut the fuck up, man. You’re getting on my nerves.”
My hand flinches as I do my best to resist putting a bullet in the side of his head.
I could blame my impatience on Alani. Surely, she has something to do with me wanting to be near her rather than working. I know the tables have shifted some. Hell, this would be fun if she was with me, if the night would end with us cutting up someone together.
Instead, I’m forced to sit beside this surly bastard who is probably going to get me sick by breathing all of his contagious fucking breath into the closed vehicle.
I use the hand crank in this old-ass vehicle to roll my window down an inch or so, angling my face in that direction in an effort to get some uncontaminated air.
“Have any desire to tell me exactly how you’re connected to this motherfucker?”
“Not a one.”
I nod. Maybe his reason for being the way he is happens to be just as painful as mine.
“I fucking knew it,” he mutters when a car pulls up outside the house.
It’s a beat-down piece of shit, much like the one we’re in, because anything new and flashy would bring the wrong kind of attention.
“That fucking bitch,” Fox whispers as a woman climbs out of the back seat.
The back passenger door of the old Explorer opens.
“Holy shit,” I mutter. “That’s fucking Raul Cortez. Do you know the woman?”
“That’s his daughter.” The disdain in his voice speaks of something personal, but I’m not opening that can of worms.
She stands on the curb, her eyes roaming down both sides of the sidewalk as her dad gathers a suitcase from the back of the vehicle. The second he closes the back hatch, the vehicle drives away.
They walk through the gate, not bothering to close it as they walk closer to the house.
The door is unlocked, and I realize from the flash of the inside that the house isn’t what it seems.
From the outside, it looks rundown. The yard is overgrown with dead grass left tall before winter hit. The front porch is sagging and looks like a handful of safety hazards on its own.
The wall inside the house that’s visible when the door opens, however, is clean and pristine, the tray ceiling inside not matching the condition of the outside.
The door closes behind them, all light from the inside snuffed out.
“The windows are fake,” I say. “At least they’re blocked. The inside was lit up, and none of that is visible from outside.”
It wouldn’t be the first house that I’ve encountered that looked like shit on the outside on purpose.
“I fucking knew Cortez wouldn’t be caught dead in a house like that. It’s been remodeled on the inside,” I say.
Fox is still staring at the front door as if he can’t believe what he saw.
“Are we going in?”
He pulls his eyes from the door and looks over at me. “He probably has men inside.”
I nod, knowing that’s extremely likely.
He points. “Those guys are probably on his payroll.”
I shrug. “So we kill them first.”
He nods.
“You know the woman?”
He pulls his eyes away once again. “I thought I did.”
“I can tell she’s betrayed you, but you seem calmer than I’d expect.”
“I had my fucking suspicions.”
“She has to die, too,” I tell him, trying to see where his head is at with the declaration.
“She may be more fun to kill than her dad.”
I’m an evil fucking man. I’ve done some seriously bad shit. For as big a monster as Alessio and Marcello were when I was younger, I’ve done things some would consider just as evil.
The look in Fox’s eyes right now speaks of more violence than I think I could fathom.
“Keep your head on your shoulders, yeah?” I say. “I don’t plan on fucking dying tonight.”
I open my door when Fox opens his, going around the back of the vehicle so we can sneak up on the dealers on the corner.
They go down easily enough, and neither one of us bother to pick up the baggies that fell from their hands when we slit their throats. We each drag one into the bushes, unconcerned about how soon they’ll be discovered. We’ll be done with this thing in a couple of minutes. I don’t think people understand just how quick you can kill a couple of people. Most perps are long gone before someone even discovers a body, and a lot of distance can be created in as little as five minutes.
In silence, we walk toward the house, the streetlights having been busted out by someone prior to our arrival. No one in a place like this wants light shining on what they’re doing.
