Page 74 of Kings Don't Break
I’d love nothing more than do it by breaking Stricklin’s face.
“There they are,” Mace says, jutting his chin.
“Took them long enough,” Ozzie mumbles.
Miguel and his guys roll up in a Land Rover. They trample over the shoulder of the road and flick off their headlights within a few feet. The doors bounce open and out steps Miguel and two of his guys. Like us, they’re dressed in nondescript black clothing.
Miguel Barrera himself is about as unassuming as you can get—an average-sized guy with a mustache and friendly eyes. You’d never imagine he’s an integral part of one of southeast Texas’s deadliest cartels. Almost as formidable as Madrigal, a former cartel we’d done business with ’til relations soured.
Me and Mace step forward to meet them.
“You’re late,” I say.
“Lo siento caballeros,” Miguel says. “But I brought everything we agreed upon.”
“So did we. Sixty-K if you’ve got what we want.”
“You’ve mentioned you’re expanding your territory. We can provide for larger quantities if you’re seeking to diversify your clientele.”
“We will be now that the Rebels and Hellrazors are out of the picture,” Mace answers.
The corner of Miguel’s lip quirks up. “I heard about that. It sounds like they got what they deserved for messing with the Kings. I’m glad our understanding is more… peaceful.”
Mace glances at me, then back at Miguel. “Let’s keep it that way. So long as you uphold your end of the bargain.”
“Always.”
“HEY! CLEAR OUT!” Ozzie yells suddenly. “We’ve got visitors!”
We hardly wait for more details. The meeting’s cut short within the next second. Ozzie and Moses have retreated from their lookout spots. Miguel and his men have rushed back toward their Land Rover. Me and Mace catch flashing red and blue lights out of the darkness and shrink into the trees and bushes.
A police car has pulled up on the opposite side of the road. Nobody gets out, though the siren lights continue flashing.
We remain where we are, peering through the shrubs, waiting out the tense moment. It’s too dark out to tell who’s in the car or what’s prompted them to pull over. They could be in the middle of a local patrol, or they could be coming from responding to a call.
They could be out looking for somebody.
Us.
It’s not outside the realm of possibility they’ve received a tip or some kind of lead we’d be doing business with the Barreras tonight.
For five long minutes that feel closer to five hours, we’re left waiting to find out. Finally, the officers inside the car seem to decide it’s time to move on. The patrol car merges onto the highway and disappears into the distance.
We creep into view again.
Miguel shakes his head. “Some other time. That was no coincidence. They must’ve suspected a deal was going down in the area.”
“We came out here for a reason,” I snap, taking several steps in his direction. “We finish the deal we started?—”
“You know how to reach me. Another time and place. Something more secure.”
Miguel and his men file into their Land Rover. A cloud of dust lingers in their wake as they make their departure.
“Fuck, that was a waste,” Ozzie groans. “Now what?”
Mace looks no less displeased at what’s gone down. He throws his leg over his Road King and pulls his helmet over his ski mask. “We come up with a better set up for our deal.”
The others gear up to take off, but I’m the last one to follow suit. The sliver of patience I had earlier has run out and my adrenaline’s no less amped up.
