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ESTEBAN
It’s dark out by the time Cruz decides it’s time for our conversation. Rodrigo and I are escorted to the garden that separates the pool and main houses. When we reach the area, he’s standing on the far corner, flanked by his man Montero and Aurora.
“Beautiful night, wouldn’t you agree, Falcon?” he asks friendly enough.
I ignore him, setting my sights on my woman, scanning her from head to toe for any sign of injury. “Has he hurt you?”
“Of course I haven’t. I’m a gentleman. I’ve already told you that,” he responds for her.
“No,” she adds. “You?”
I shake my head, then give him my full attention. “Let her go, and Campo Escondido is yours. I’ll sign whatever the fuck you want.”
“That easy?” Cruz smiles and I grit my teeth until they hurt. “I don’t want Campo Escondido for myself. I want to be partners, Falcon. Remember, I still need you to grow the stuff.”
I give him a once-over. “It would be an awkward work environment, what with you threatening the life of my woman and all.”
“Falcon, Falcon. You’re much too old to hang on to petty grudges. Let’s be friends again.”
“We were never friends.”
“Then let’s be two businessmen who need each other.” I roll my eyes at his comment. “Ah, come on. Admit it. I did you a favor. I never intended on hurting you. Not really. If I had used real force, you would have felt it. Instead, I gave you a little taste of what it will be like when the Columbians come after you. Are you sure you wouldn’t rather have me on your side?”
“Thank you, I’ll pass.”
His cocky smile fades and he narrows his hard gaze on mine. “No. I won’t accept that either. What to do, what to do.” Then, as if some brilliant idea comes to mind, he lifts a finger. “I know. Let’s fight for it. A good old throwdown.”
Slightly taken aback, I snicker. “What?”
“You heard me. I win, you become a member of the Diablos and work Campo Escondido for me. You win, you hand over the plantation and wash your hands free of it. You’ll never hear from me again.”
I stare at him, every cell in my body rife with irritation. “I don’t want to fight you.”
“Why not? Are you scared, old man?”
“Are you aware I’m only ten years older than you?”
“A whole decade. Come on, I’ve been dying to know what you’re made of. Can someone who’s been handed everything on a silver platter take on someone like me?” He comes toward me, stopping only a few feet from where I’m standing. “Could you take someone who’s actually earned this power, Falcon? Can you take me?”
Behind his grin I see something else. Perhaps the root of the issue he has with me. While it was my money and desire to see if I could that allowed me into this world of crime, his motivator was poverty, loss, and unimaginable pain.
“It doesn’t matter how we ended up here,” I try to reason.
“Good. Then let’s get to it.” Without warning, he slaps me. Not the kind of slap meant to hurt, but to insult.
Rodrigo attempts to step in, but I extend my arm to stop him. Suddenly, I’m in the mood to kick this punk’s ass.
As if we’re two rams fighting for supremacy, Cruz and I clash hard against each other. We fall to the ground, where we each immediately wrestle to get on top. For a moment, I manage to roll him onto his back, pinning him into the ground by his throat. But the moment ends abruptly when he manages bring up his legs from behind me and wrap his feet around my head.
With one forceful whack, he throws me down and is on me before I can recover. I hear more than I feel his right hook under my chin, followed immediately by a punch to my ribs.
I don’t waste time worrying if he’s broken something, focusing all of my energy on a neck jab that has him falling off me and gasping for breath. Taking advantage of his brief incapacitation, I wrap my fingers around his throat and squeeze with all of my might.
But damn his long arms, because he somehow manages to position himself where he can strangle me too.
I’m forced to let go and kick him in the gut, then attempt to stand, but he grabs my legs and brings me down again.
Around us, everyone gathers, watching the show. The guards cheer Cruz on while Rodrigo watches intensely and Aurora paces anxiously.
It’s impossible to say how long this goes on for, but it’s long enough that the spectators seem to grow bored, some of them chatting amongst themselves.
As if we have the same thought at the same time, Cruz and I stop. We’re both panting, both bloodied.
“You giving up?” he asks, wiping at a cut on his forehead.
“Never.”
Then, in an unexpected move, Jaime removes his gun from its holster and aims it at Aurora’s head. She freezes on the spot, her eyes going wide.
“How about now?” Cruz asks.
Turning to him, I sneer. “You never intended on giving me any choice in the matter, did you?”
“Not at all. I just wanted to see how well a suit could fight. You impressed me. I think we will be great partners, you and I.”
Letting out a sigh of sheer annoyance at his arrogance, I agree. “We will be friendly then.”
“Good.” He looks at his man and nods. “You will not regret it.”
“I already do,” I mutter.
Jaime lowers the firearm he’s been holding against Aurora’s temple. She lets out a sob as she runs into my open arms.
I hold her to me, kissing the top of her head, her brow, her lips. “You’re all right. You’re safe.”
She clings to me, pressing her face into my chest. “You gave in for me.”
“Of course I did. I’d do anything for you. Even work with that fool. No offense intended,” I say to Cruz.
He chuckles, rubbing the goose egg that’s beginning to form on his cheek. “None taken. And as a token of good faith…” He motions to Montero as he pulls a pack of cigarettes from his back pocket and lights one.
Montero steps forward, produces a photograph, and hands it to me.
I peer into the vaguely familiar face of a body lying in a morgue. “Who is that?”
“That is Lorenzo Villegas’ personal bodyguard. The one you missed.”
Aurora snaps to attention and snatches the photograph from me. “You killed him?”
“I had the situation rectified before it became a problem for the Diablos del Sur. I told you, I take care of what’s mine.” He moves toward me and, grabbing the back of my neck, brings me in for a quick hug, whispering in my ear as he does, “And you, my friend, are now my bitch.”
