Page 1 of Twin Deception

1

MIGUEL

Golden glimmers chased the ruby sparkles of beads and sequins along the mariachi band member’s lapels. Glittering and flashing, the ornamentation drew my eye.

Crimson shapes stitched onto his charcoal-black jacket cut a sharp contrast.

Like the spread of blood seeping out from a shot to the heart.

Strips of rhinestones and shapes of beadwork razzled and dazzled with the musician’s every move. He played the guitar, joining his fellow players in an upbeat rendition ofFeliz Navidad. Every time he moved his arm, roving back and forth as he strummed, the adornments sewn into the pitch black of his jacket commanded my attention.

Hand in chin, elbow on the bar, I stared at the lightshow, mesmerized.

Or really fucking bored.

The man noticed my dead stare and nodded, smiling like a puppet. He was trained to entertain and wow at this resort’s bar,but I wasn’t in the mood. Not to grin back or acknowledge his speechless gesture of ahello!

Holiday joy hadn’t hit me yet, and I wasn’t sure if I would let it. Being a Grinch wasn’t my motive, but I simply couldn’t join in the general festive aura of this place.

Christmas lights shone all over, hung from every vertical item. Trees held big, fat bulbs of ornaments. Ribbons choked around posts and clung to wreaths. The scene before me screamed an order to celebrate, but it wasn’t tricking me into losing this impatience and annoyance at having to sit here and wait. It was all too Americanized for me, anyway, but what the hell did I care? This resort, and many of the other ritzy ones along the coast in Acapulco, were designed to attract the North Americans who wanted a break from the snow. Décor could be catered to them. Whatever it took to make them happy as the tourists poured money into the area.

Ineed a break.

Going from one job to another wasn’t sustainable. Or it wasn’t feasible in the long run. In my line of work, getting burned out could mean sloppiness. And that could result in too many big mistakes—like the end of my life.

All year long, I’d been staving off boredom and being too idle by taking every hit I could. Each time the Gulf Cartel needed someone killed, I took the assignment. Even some others, too. I picked up independent hits when the mood struck.

Now, it caught up to me. Now, as I sat at this bar and waited for Louis Flores to show up, I realized I had taken on too much, too soon. A balance was necessary, some time to work and earn ridiculously good money, then some time to relax and kick back.

I attempted it now, sitting upright and trying not to look like I was entirely miserable. As soon as I was done killing this corrupt businessman—one among the many who were often my targets—I could do that.

Relax.

Take it easy.

I could enjoy the respite from rushing to another job. My contact, Drago, hadn’t lined me up for one, and I wouldn’t accept one if he tried to.

This is it. For this year, at least.All these sunburned tourists and elite, wealthy locals were here to celebrate the coming of Christmas and the New Year, programmed to only have a holiday at the end of the year per what the calendar said. I, on the other hand, just needed to step back from the constant grind of killing the people the Cartel deemed unworthy of living.

Moving upright and looking more alert, I must have seemed like I was dancing. The mariachi guitarist nodded at me and smiled wider, as if encouraging me to move to the music.

Fuck that.

I picked up my drink and sipped it, letting the bourbon burn a welcome heat down my throat. It was hot and humid outside this huge bar and restaurant. Darkness spanned the space showing from the open windows and doors that led out to the patio. Further beyond, waves crashed against the cliffs.

I’d preferthatmusic over this upbeat melody.

And I’d really prefer it if Louis fucking Flores would show up.

The Mexican businessman was expected here, scheduled to meet with a local scumbag who called himself a politician. Honestly, those details didn’t matter. They never did. I didn’t invest an inkling of emotion into my kills. Drago forwarded me the details I needed, the material I could use to properly locate, track, stalk, then kill the people I was expected to remove.

My intel told me to count on Louis coming here and blending in with all the families and couples here to dine, eat, or celebrate.

Yet another member of the wait staff breezed by. Sparks flew into the air from the lit candle on an intricate cake. Before the dessert was brought to a round table, the mariachi band switched from the Christmas song to one of wishing someone a happy birthday.

I watched the waiter’s path as he set the plate down in front of a teenager. A sweet sixteen sash hung over her shoulder as she beamed at the cake. Rosy cheeks lifted high as she reacted in surprise. With her face both aglow and shadowed by the candle flaming near her, she smiled at the rest of her companions, probably her family.

This scene intrigued me more than the lame music. I spied on them, as I was sure many others did in this big space. What more could attract the attention of the entire place than a sparking and sizzling tall candle and the band highlighting what she was here for?

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