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“But we don’t, do we?” I counter. “Juan was behind this. He wants the cartel for himself. That still leaves us with the question: How is he getting the soldiers to flip on us?”
Javi pulls the car into a gas station, and sighs as he puts it in park. “Gem needs to take him out before she goes after Senior.”
“I know,” I acknowledge. “I’m sure she does now too…”
I can’t even express how complicated my life is, but I feel like I need to explain to Ezra that this is a normal occurrence. I would understand if he... You know... Never wanted to see me again.
There’s no doubt in my mind that Juan Carlos orchestrated this attack. He wasn’t working alone, though. Not all the foot soldiers were Mal crew.
I’m going to kill Juan.
And then I’m going after Estrada.
Ezra is silent as he drives. Other than bitching at me for grabbing the hard drive, he hasn’t spoken. I suppose he could be in shock or contemplating his life choices and where he went wrong.
It’s difficult to blame him.
Someone kicked in my door, tried to attack me while he was there, which would have led to them attacking him… And then I killed them while he was in the other room.
I can’t say anything to ease his mind, though. If he hadn’t been there, things would have gone differently.
Better or worse? It’s draining to think of the options.
I only killed three of the five men who broke into my apartment. That’s an oversight on my part. Leaving them alive is going to bite me in the ass if I don’t make them my immediate priority.
I now have a million little things that need to get done, and half of them need to happen tonight.
It’s impossible to make the calls required when I didn’t think to grab my cell phone. I got my laptop, so I can access my contacts through the shared connection... But I can’t call from anyone else’s number. I got the envelope too, which is a ton more information than my dad believed.
Not that it matters right now.
I need people on the streets looking for Don and Jose.
I need to make an example out of them.
Ezra parks next to his brother’s car... What used to be Quin’s car? My cheeks twitch with the beginning of a grin, though I smother it when he glances my way.
“Quin is going to be a dick.”
I shrug. “I give as good as I get.”
He nods. “Are we telling them what happened?”
“I can’t explain this shit to Kane. He doesn’t know who I am.”
“How did you explain the drugs?”
I pick at my nails as I frown. “By telling him more lies. We’re at this impasse where I know he knows something is up, but he hasn’t asked yet.”
“Will you tell him when he asks?” Ezra inquires.
“I don’t know,” I whisper. “No matter how I look at it, the news won’t go over well.”
“So, what are we telling them?” He motions toward his home. “Because they will ask.”
“Kane should be asleep by now. It’s two in the morning, and he’s got work in a couple of hours.”
Ezra sighs. “Quin will ask. I can’t promise that he won’t say anything to Kane.”
