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I don't need his words of encouragement or fucking praises. Except I play them often in my head in order to keep moving on days I don't want to. As much as I try, I can't stop hearing his deep, soothing voice on a loop.
“Come on, pequeño. You can do this.”
I can. Without him, too. I shift on the ground, lifting myself enough to flush the toilet. Leaning against the wall, I use it as leverage to pull myself to my feet. On shaky legs, I walk to the sink and wash up.
A knock comes to the door as I'm drying my hand.
“Boss? Everything okay in there?” Roberto, one of my men, asks.
“Yeah, I'll be out in a few minutes.”
Staring at my reflection in the mirror has me wrinkling my nose. I'm a mess. I can't allow my employees—or any of the men who’ve been following me lately—to see me this way. Any kind of weakness can be used against you. My dad having numerous enemies means I also have them. It'll never stop. Either my hands get dirty or theirs do with my blood.
Running my fingers through my hair, I exit the bathroom. My hand presses down the front of my body, unwrinkling my clothes the best I can. I walk behind the bar and grab a clipboard left in a cabinet beneath the register. One of the bartenders, Seb, walks my way and whispers in my ear, “We had more requests than usual tonight, E, and I'm more than sure one of the men is a cop.”
“Come with me,” I say as I look around my surroundings. We walk to my back office and I nudge my head in the direction of one of the camera screens attached to the wall behind my desk. “Show me.”
He bites his bottom lip, studying the screen, and then points to a man wearing a white blazer and dark jeans. I've never seen him before but I can spot a cop when I see one and he definitely isn't in any way associated with law enforcement.
“Okay, thank you, Seb. You can return to the bar now.”
“But what do we do?” he asks.
“I'll handle it.”
I snap a picture of the man dancing on the screen and send it in a text to one of my men, Antonio, along with a message to escort the guy out. The man wants to be noticed on purpose and nothing about him rubs me the right way. He doesn't belong here and if he comes back, I'll walk him out myself. The spider tattoo on his neck is familiar. I've seen it before.
Antonio: Right away.
Me: If he gives you any trouble, let me know.
Antonio: Will do.
Returning to the photo I took, I zoom in on his face before sending it to one of my trusted contacts. Hector is good at finding out who people are and knows of almost every gang out there.
Me: Do you recognize this man?
It doesn't take long to receive a message back. Before reading his response, I watch as the man clearly argues with Antonio, shaking his head and raising his finger at him. After a few more shoves toward the exit, he lifts his hands in defeat and finally leaves.
I look back at my text and my blood boils.
Hector: Yes. That's the father of your sister's little girlfriend. Gustavo Salinas.
What the fuck does he want?
Me: Thanks. I'll handle it from here.
When I meet my father and a few potential business partners for drinks tomorrow night, I'll grab a ride with him and bring it up on the way there. He's still out of town handling other matters and won’t arrive home until tomorrow afternoon. No point in bothering him with it now. Until then I'll have my men keep a close eye on Salinas and his daughter. I send out a few more messages before shoving my phone in my pocket.
Yanking the front sheet off the clipboard, I fold it up, put it into an envelope.
Straightening my collar, I open the secret passageway to the back I have hiding behind a large bookcase. Ten men and women are sitting behind tables packaging our product. I place the envelope in the hands of Juanito, the man I have in charge of what goes on back here. Any wrong move and the blame falls to him. As much as nothing gets past his watchful eye, it still isn't preventing drugs from going missing from other places or while others are on duty.
“I'll get started on this immediately.”
“Thank you, Juanito.”
“Anytime.” He pats me on the shoulder and opens the envelope. I walk back into my office and lock the door behind me before sliding the shelf back in place. Reaching for my phone, I send Fernando a message. I'm done playing his fucking silent game.
