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And I’m going to kill every motherfucker inside that bar, regardless of their affiliation with the Cartel.
25
Dream
I’m shaking so hard that my stomach is starting to hurt, but I try to hide it from Nikolai.
He drops the heavy duffle bag full of Protodafinil in my arms and steps back, looking me over. “Are you sure you can handle this?”
I nod because my throat is too dry to say yes, but even that is difficult. My neck is stiff, and I have pins and needles in my shoulders from the weight of the bag.
“Okay, you know the deal. Count the seconds in your head, because the moment it goes over a hundred and eighty, I’m coming in to get you. Has Diego texted you yet?”
I nod, but I’m unable to pull my phone out to show him because of the bag.
Nikolai puts his hand on my shoulder, and my knees would buckle if they weren’t locked. “Try to look calm. If they’re serious about the trade, they’ll make it without giving you too much trouble. Don’t let them bully you.”
“I won’t,” I say, feeling a surge of power as I realize this is the moment I’ve been waiting so long for. This is when we get Eddy back. It’s time to be a family again.
Nikolai’s expression softens, and he lowers his voice so that Jasha can’t hear it from the car. “You’re very brave, Dream.”
I smile at him weakly, not feeling very brave at all. Just determined.
“One more thing,” he says, his voice dropping even lower. “I want you to know something. I know it’s a little soon, and maybe this feels rushed, but –”
I cut off his words by jumping up on my toes and planting a kiss on his lips. I know what he’s going to say, but that can wait until I’m back with Eddy. I refuse to rush through things under the assumption that I could die in there.
I won’t. I will survive.
For Eddy, but also, for Nikolai.
“I’ll see you soon,” I say, turning away from Nikolai and taking my first steps away from the car.
“Be safe,” Nikolai calls out, like a troubled parent whose child is going out for their first drive by themselves.
I smile as I step out of the alley and onto the main street. Safety might not be an option, but getting Eddy back is a guarantee. I’m going to make sure of it.
I feel an unusual number of eyes on me as I walk down the busy street toward the Cartel bar. It’s probably just because I’m an American woman carrying a giant duffle bag in her arms down the street in Mexico alone, but it still makes me feel like someone is going to jump out of the crowd and steal it from me.
I hold it tighter, pulling the scratchy nylon against my chest and gritting my teeth. There’s humor to be found in the fact that I’m carrying a Schedule One drug down a public road as though it’s groceries, but I’m not in the mood to laugh at it.
Maybe once this is all over. Then, I can laugh, and I can do it with Eddy.
The bar is a looming building at the end of the street, three stories high while everything else is a single level. It’s a solid structure, the walls made of concrete and painted a pale red color.
I could imagine Diego getting angry if I called it pink, but that’s what it really is. Kind of a washed-out salmon.
It succeeds in being intimidating regardless of the color, however, because the walls feel like they’re three feet thick, and there’s nothing to indicate that anyone is welcome inside for a drink.
Like the small town we started out in, there’s no sign, no label, and everyone just seems to know to avoid it. They’re like ants making a wide detour around a pile of salt, unwilling to get too close should they accidentally find themselves yanked inside for questioning by an angry guard.
I wait for Jasha’s signal before I continue approaching the bar – a flash of red from one of the windows at the hotel across the street. That’s probably also owned by the Cartel, but it’s open to the public and Nikolai managed to book a room at short notice. The Cartel cares more about making money than safety.
The sun is oppressively hot, burning the back of my neck and making my dress stick to my sweaty skin as though it were made from cling wrap. I glance up at the hotel, trying not to make it obvious that I’m awaiting a signal.
Nothing.
Nothing.
