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“He’s angry, brother. Very careless after finding his general’s mangled body.” Thiago’s amusement comes through the secured line a few days ago. He’s outside and the wind is a bit heavy, but being they’re so close to the water it’s normal. His private estate isn’t far from the family compound near the Mariel port. “You did quite a number on him.”
I snort at that. “Nothing they wouldn’t do to one of our own if given the chance.”
“Agreed.”
“What’s going on?” Taking out a cigarette, I light up and take a drag. “Why are you calling me instead of enjoying your honeymoon? By the way, when’s your flight out to Tahiti?”
“A presidential invite arrived today via Amberlyn’s family, and in two days.” There’s a pause, and I know what he’s going to say. “I can post—"
“No.” Grip tightening, I hear the plastic in my hand protest, nearly cracking. “Who delivered, and to what home?”
“Her grandfather arrived at the compound, and the maid called me, Ivan. The old man had a busted lip and black eye.” My brother exhales roughly. Even from miles away, his anger is palpable and mirrors my own. “Rodriguez wants to meet. Says we have a week to show our faces before he forces our hand.”
“I’ll be there when the time is right.”
“You’ve always had my back. Let me—”
“Alone, Thiago. He’s mine to deal with.”
“I know.”
I’ll also be arriving with gifts.
The heads of his nephews, to start.
Fingering the beads at my wrist, I play with the latch and extend the solid steel wire within, thrumming it once. I’ve been saving this for someone special, and the who has been revealed.
And when Amberlyn stands from her seat, I step back into the shadows. When she exits after taking the folder with her, ignoring the tightness on Jaime’s face, I watch her every step until she’s inside her car and the taillights disappear around the corner.
Then from the dark alley, I meet his eyes from the inside the window.
The asshole waves at my silhouette, and I do the same. He’s confusing me with his now-dead guard, and I smirk, still toying with the steel wire for another second before snapping it into place within the bracelet.
“Your hours are numbered, Uriel. Tick-Tock.”
Jaime walks out the door and I turn, stepping inside an unlocked door a few feet away from me. It belongs to a laundry shop owned by a family acquaintance who’s been nice enough to let me borrow the back room as storage from time to time. She’s also old and crotchety, but Mom likes her, so I hold nothing but respect for the woman.
“Grab a clean shirt from my office before you leave, kid. I’ll burn this one.”
“Thanks.” Pulling my soiled one off, I hand it over while taking a small, wet hand towel she’s offering. Both items will be burned once done, but not before being soaked in commercial-quality bleach. “This one got a little messy.”
“You, or the dead man I saw your guy dragging away?” Raised bushy brows assess me, lips pursing. “The deceased didn’t look local, either.”
“You’re too perceptive for someone nearing eighty, Dora.”
“No. I’ve just been around long enough to pick up on certain things.” Turning, she walks over to a large metal drum that’s rusty and has a caution sticker on the wall behind it. We’re now inside the back room I use, away from customers, and with a filtration system that keeps the harsh odors away from those roaming the front. “You okay?”
“I will be.” It’s the truth. No use in lying.
“Good.” Dumping my shirt in, she opens her palm for the towel, but I toss it in for her. I also open the lever that controls the bleaching agent, its strong odor infiltrating my senses at once. “God, that stinks. I’m getting too old for this.”
“Blasphemy.”
“Shut it and call your mother. She knows you’re here.”
At that, I raise a brow while closing the spigot. “How so?”
“Easy. I called her.” She shrugs.
