Page 110 of Mob Knight

“We know. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

I pull on the rest of my clothes after unmuting the call.

“Jesus, we’re having a sit down before I blow up something of yours in retaliation.”

“What retaliation?”

That’s the last Joey hears as I walk into the hallway where my dad’s still waiting. He points to my bedroom, but I shake my head. Instead, I point to him, then point down. I want him to stay. I can hear my uncles downstairs with the other guys. They’ll stay with him and the men patrolling today.

“I have a piece of your artwork from what’s left of my home with Joey. She could’ve been there.”

“What the fuck are you talking about? Jocelyn?”

“I’m not with her anymore. It’s you and me. Santiago, you’re the one panting into the phone. Hang up,niño.”

He’s younger than me, but not by much. He has less experience, though. I won’t discount his training, so I don’t want him hearing all of this at the same time as his father. I don’t need them plotting simultaneously. Mexican cartels recruit young boys because once they turn eighteen, their juvenile records basically get expunged. Law enforcement can’t enforce or go after them for anything they did as a minor. It means once they’re adults, they’re fully trained and battle-tested with no legal past to shadow them.

I tap the phone screen and hang up on Santiago.

“It’s just you and me, Jesus. Blowing up my house and leaving a calling card wasn’t wise.”

“I didn’t do shit to your house.”

“That’s not what your brand on a piece of paper that landed in my yard from the drone that blew up my house says.”

“Drone? What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Someone just used a drone to bomb my house. Along with it, they dropped a calling card. It’s your brand stamped on a sheet of paper.”

“You think I’d leave proof?”

“It’s not like I’m going to the police with it. My house has had an unfortunate gas leak.”

That’s the excuse we’ll use. That or I left something on the stove.

“That’s irrelevant. You think I’d confess to you if I did it?”

“Yes. It’s a warning to stay away from Joey.”

“That’s not her fucking name.”

I’m not fighting over that right now. I’ve just walked into my dad’s office where the others are waiting for me. They remain silent while I put the call back on speaker. We’ve continued in English, but speaking Spanish wouldn’t be a problem because my brother, cousins, uncles, and dad are all fluent, too. I know none of us want him to know that yet.

“You don’t deny it’s a warning.”

“I have no reason to deny that because I didn’t bomb your house.”

“Santiago likes expensive toys.”

“So do you, but I don’t believe you destroyed your own home.”

“You and Santiago admit you’ve been watching Joey and me. You’ve known we’re together. Why shouldn’t I think you’re interfering? You might not have bombed her place, but it’s not impossible to believe you bombed my place as retaliation for being with her or putting her in danger.”

“Cormac, when I retaliate, I look the man in the eye. You’ll know it’s me. You won’t be guessing.”

El Corridor. The Hunter.

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