Page 3 of Punished

Conejo walks in, drawing me out of the memory. I pour him a shot from the bottle of 1800 in front of us. He lifts his glass to me, and I return the sentiment before letting the liquor slide down my throat.

“Everything okay, compadre?”

“Ya. Just thinking about Adrian coming home.” He nods. He knows the backstory. The hurt and betrayal that was involved. He was the one who helped me through the first few years, whether that meant reckless weekends in Vegas or sleepless nights in California. I wanted to drown in my sorrows. I wanted to die altogether, but he was there for me through it all. Even though I had lost Soledad, I still had to protect Adrian, so I got my shit together and did what was always expected of me.

“This is what I have so far.”

Conejo hands me a manilla folder. It outlines several possible human trafficking operations within the Houston area that might have connections to Soledad. After I found out Adrian had been incarcerated, I went to visit him in the FDC. He told me about his past and his concern for Soledad. Conejo and I searched Adrian’s old home andfound it had been vacant for over a year. The landlord told us once Adrian got locked up, there was no money coming in to pay the rent, and Soledad was nowhere to be found. Adrian confided in me about her addiction, and I knew the root of it.

Ivan had raped her, and her overly religious parents forced her to have Adrian. A story that was not mine to share. I tried to convince her that I would say it was mine, and that we could raise Adrian together, but she could never look at me the same again. Her addiction likely stemmed from everything Ivan took from her, just as my drinking and partying were fueled by losing her. It was his final jab to let me know he was still very much in charge of our family business. He used her at his disposal, and after putting her through the hell of having his child, he left her wounds raw and open for the world to feast on.

From then on, she would find any reason to escape. He took the only thing I ever loved. He not only stole her from me, but he took her from Adrian as well. He was neglected and alone as a child and had no idea why. My family was haunted by Adrian’s absence. My mother left this world wondering where he was, and my father would cry for him every time he had too much to drink. We all felt it, but never spoke of it. We would all live to know the true meaning of Soledad’s name.Loneliness.

Three years ago

“Kill or be killed.”

That was one of the first things Conejo told me before explaining what I would need to do to prove, not only my loyalty to Los Antros, but also make my way into their inner council.

Not everyone was accepted in. My lock up order only consisted of the small crime I was set up for. I had no outside gang affiliations, and that made me useless to them. If I was going to find a way in, I would need to approach them and use the Consuelo name to my advantage just for the opportunity to join them. As soon as they learned I was Ivan Consuelo’s son, they were more inclined to utilize me. I wasput on a ninety-day probation period and given various small tasks, but today would be my shot at initiation.

I follow a guard with two other inmates getting initiated to a back room used for interrogations. The order was clear–work together and kill a man who had snitched on one of the inner council’s kingpins on the outside. In here, there was no loyalty to a specific cartel or gang, but there were expectations to not betray your own people. On the street, snitches get stitches, but in here, death is the only accepted form of payment.

The three of us walk to the backroom. The leader of Los Antros Vidal MontaIván sits in front of a one-way mirror with his inner circle. Vidal is the son of a Colombian Kingpin. He was captured and faced a lifetime sentence. His father found him more valuable within the system than outside, so he willingly stayed.

As soon as we get to the back room, I can see why the three of us have to work together. The man we must kill stands seven-feet tall and weighs around 300 pounds of solid muscle. I also see our other disadvantage as we draw closer. The motherfucker has a knife, and we only have our fists to defend ourselves with.

As soon as we enter the room, he charges towards us. He throws me into the back wall, and I’m disoriented from the collision, but I stand up quickly. He stabs the first man in the neck. He dropsimmediately, and when our target bends down to remove the knife from the lifeless body, I take the opportunity to choke him from behind. My partner begins to punch him as I squeeze harder, waiting for the life to drain out of him, but the son of a bitch is strong. He struggles to get me off his back, and, in the process, he drops the knife. He frees himself from me, throwing me back into the concrete wall as he falls to the ground, coughing and trying to catch his breath.

“Stab him,” I yell to my partner, but he’s stalling. We have no time to waste, and I can’t trust someone who needs to stop and check-in with their conscience. Kill or Be Killed. The words repeat themselves over and over in my head. I didn’t come this far to only get this far. I lunge forward and reach for the knife just in time to slit our target’s throat. But I’m not done yet.

I turn to the last man, who is still in shock, staring at the two bodies on the floor and the blood surrounding us. I don’t think twice before I begin to stab him repeatedly. Blood splatters onto me and I watch as his life drains from him. I don’t stop until the guards walk in to grab me. Before they drag me to solitary confinement, Vidal stops me in the hall.

“Bienvenido, Adriano.”

He sent welcoming gifts to me in solitary confinement, and I received one of many care packages thatfirst day. From then on, I did what I had to do to survive. Every mission or task Vidal threw at me, I completed. I started as a category one and within the first year, I was voted in as a category three member. I grew to understand the power of authority and just how far respect would get me. I used that respect to bring Efren into Los Antros, and together, we became invincible.

“Adriano, how will you serve me beyond these walls?”

Vidal sits across from me in a similar orange suit. I told him about my upcoming parole meeting that Patricio setup for me.

“Wherever you want to put me, Jefe,” I say and he nods. Vidal has no use for me outside these walls. He runs most of his operations through Miami, but I knew he was eager to move in through the West Coast.

“I want to expand the few operations I have in Texas. My nephew, Ricky, will be moving there and will work to obtain a real estate license we will need to advance our outside operations. In the meantime, he answers to the Houston Cartel Connect, and I will sanction any members you request coming in.” He stands to walk out, and I know this means goodbye for now.

The years I spent here were coming to an end. I am not the same person who walked into this prison. The blood on my hands has changed me. I’m not sure if society is ready for me. My enemies are still out there, and the person I’ve had to become to survive all these years is the last person you want as an enemy.

I was the first to show up at the bar on Thursday. It was a weekly tradition. Thalia, Alma, and I met up for drinks every Thursday in the hotel’s bar. Alma and I shared an apartment in downtown Houston, but I barely saw her with school and work. We met during my first year of college, when Alma thought she was going to be a preschool teacher but couldn’t handle the amount of boogers she had to clean. She decided to take some time off of school to figure it out, and now works as a housekeeper full time for Calavera Hotels.

Thalia was best described as a Mexican Goth Barbie. A name Alma gave her after the first time they met. Where Alma was sunshine and rainbows, Thalia was a modern day Wednesday Addams in heels with cartel ties. She held the title of Chief Financial Officer, but over the years,Alma and I noticed she held a much higher position as Patricio’s protégé. I knew her decision to keep that part of her life private was also how she protected us.

She was the one who introduced me to Dr. Aguilar. He and I quickly connected, and it wasn’t too long before he would call me to assist him. He or Thalia would call me to scenes where men were shot down, half dead or injured. Before I knew it, I became his permanent assistant, and somehow, my hours and pay miraculously increased at the hotel. I did my best not to ask too many questions or get myself too involved. I needed the extra money to pay for school and pay off the credit card debt I had acquired trying to survive.

I was unsure how Adrian might fit into all of this. I knew he had always been a hard worker. I look down at the bracelet he had given me when we were younger. He worked his ass off that summer mowing lawns just so he could give it to me on my birthday. I was afraid to think of what would happen when he saw me again.

I order a round of shots and top shelf margaritas. Mango flavor for me, blackberry for Thalia, and watermelon for Alma.

“Damn bitch, you starting early?” Alma says as she squeezes into the booth I reserved for the three of us. She is still in her maid uniform, her curly brown hair pulled up ina bun. She looks exhausted, but still offers me a smile. She has natural beauty with her flawless skin. It makes sense, since she has an hour-long bedtime routine and enough discipline to avoid dairy.

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