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It doesn’t happen every time though. Occasionally he fights and disagrees with me, but something will hang in his eyes afterward. He doesn’t like disappointing me but at the same time he tests my patience when he needs my attention.
“You're such an asshole,” he says, taking a step back. “Don't keep me waiting too long,pendejo. I don't like the seats in your car.”
My jaw tightens and I wash the last few dishes as slowly as I can. It's never too early in the day to teach him some damn patience.
Five
Enrico
My face and eyes ache as I enter my office. The combination of the loud music of the club and the man downstairs who refuses to answer my questions honestly is doing my head in. He was caught trying to sneak drugs off the table during packaging. They are getting braver and less cautious. Someone is sending them here to steal from me and I won't allow them to continue to succeed.
One of them will eventually tell me who they work for without steering me in the wrong direction. Sometimes offering money or mercy isn't enough, but for the right price, people will talk. If you find out who they are willing to die for, they won't be able to shut up. Almost everyone has someone they will quickly give everything up for in order to keep them safe.
Rustling through my drawers, I search for the Tylenol. Anything stronger causes more issues in other places. My stomach is uneasy enough from lunch as it is. The bitch at the restaurant wasn't listening to me carefully and added dressing in my salad.
My father had to remind me I couldn't put a bullet in her head just because she was terrible at her job. It didn't stop me from considering it anyway, especially when she kept bringing me the wrong shit. We were meeting with a friend of the family about information they had regarding my cousin's past dealings. We think he might have had business with Samantha's girlfriend and her family. Turns out my sister's broken heart was one of the many reasons for her going off the rails. She was being betrayed all along. Money meant more to her girlfriend than love.
It's better to think of everyone you encounter in this life as the enemy in order to protect yourself. At least that's what my family has taught me. Very few of them can be trusted. They’ve all conspired against each other until now only a few of us are left standing.
One of the very few people without a single bad bone in her body is my Aunt Rita. She's the only family my mother was ever able to count on and she has always done right by me. I escape to her house near the beach whenever I need a place to get away for a while. I love being by the water. I write a lot easier when I have crashing waves as background noise and the ocean air surrounding me. My sister and I went there a lot as kids and were too busy enjoying the water and sandcastles to notice the rift between our parents.
Going there still brings me peace and distraction. I can lie back in the sand and look for shapes in the clouds as I pretend to be someone else—a man free to be who he wants and who doesn’t have to watch his back all the time. Sure, this life comes with many luxuries, but what's the point of having everything when you might not live long enough to fully enjoy it?
I shake out two white pills from the bottle and they land in the palm of my gloved bionic hand. I wash them back with a bottle of water. I wear the glove to hide what's beneath. The fewer people who know what happened to me, the better. The water bottle slips between my fingers before I can toss it in the trash. Kicking the can in frustration, I yell through gritted teeth.
I ignore the bottle resting on the floor when the office phone rings. I hit the transfer button, sending it to Andres. He's managing the floor today. He has all the easier and safer jobs. The ones I refuse to take. I handle the more dangerous work for a reason. I need the thrill and excitement. Hearing the cries and screams of other men before bleeding them dry brings me that.
It's a sickness but also a strength to have in this world where everyone wants you dead.
My hand slams against the desk at the sound of the phone going off again. I can't even take a fucking second to breathe anymore. Sliding my bionic fingers under one of my black rubber bracelets on my left wrist, I yank it back and release it as hard as I can. I breathe through the sting, allowing the slight pain to drown out the noise of demanding clients and employees. Someone always fucking wants something.
Picking up the phone after the fifth ring, I answer while nibbling on the inside of my right cheek. “Hola?”
“I need you to stop transferring the damn calls to other people. You're at the office for a reason today.”
My teeth clamp down so hard, a metallic taste runs over my tongue. “Father. You're checking up on me again?”
“Andres has his work cut out for him today and the call he recently had to take care of isn't doing him any favors. He only deals with club matters, not pissed off clients. They call your office phone for a reason. To reach you, pendejo.”
I clutch the phone tightly in my hand, tightening my jaw. “Okay.”
“Que?” my father asks as if he didn't fucking hear me.
“I said okay.Pinche guey. I'll answer the next calls.”
“Bueno. That's what I want to hear. I'll see you tonight, yeah?”
“Si. Estaré ahí.”
The line clicks and the moment I set the phone down it rings again. I answer it a few times before I'm finally able to get back to other matters. The day is never ending. Instead of going to the club tonight to meet up with a few business partners, I’d much rather go home and bury myself under my covers.
I open my laptop, and a note rests between the screen and keyboard.
I laugh, plopping down in my chair, reaching for the small piece of paper with sloppy black writing that goes everywhere but in the damn lines. I lean back and read the message. It's not surprising Fernando was able to sneak into my office without me seeing him.
He’s as good at going unnoticed as I am. Sometimes it feels like a damn competition between us.
My fingers circle over each word on the paper.
