Page 26 of Kiss of the Cartel

17

Luis

We take the spoils of the war back to my territory. Renaldo, hands secured behind his back. I tell Emiliano to take him down to the cells where Tomás’ other son is secured and wait for me there. I tell Lena to go to our room and I meet Arturo in the study, alone. He looks solemn. “I didn’t know –” he starts, but I cut him off.

“You’re a fuck up, Arturo. Always out for a good time. Want to drink and fuck around. Forgetting about your responsibilities.”

Arturo glares at me. “Not always. I got to the warehouse in time.”

“In time for what? How the hell did you even know to come to the warehouse?”

“Old man Garcia told me where you were…” Then he stops. “Fuck.”

“Funny how that works out. Tomás set you up too. If not for Lena, you’d be dead as well.”

“No.” Arturo shakes his head. He doesn’t want to be indebted to Lena.

I wonder briefly if his parents were cousins, he’s so goddamn fucking slow. “Tomás knew about Lena. Did you know? But he underestimated her. Like you did. Like I did. Fuck. So she slaughtered everyone in the warehouse before you finally arrived and saved the fucking day. If she hadn’t, you’d be dead too.”

Arturo takes a breath as he drops his chin to his chest. “What the fuck do you want me to do. Send her a thank you card?”

I hesitate for a second, not to gather my courage, but to be ready to fuck Arturo up if he says anything disrespectful. “I’m marrying her, cousin. She’ll be my wife and you’ll respect her.”

Arturo inhales as he stares at me. “She’s a whore. You’re going to make this family a laughingstock.”

I’m on him before he can react, shoving him hard against a wall, knife in my hand, poised at his throat. “Here’s what’s going to happen. I’m going to marry her. You’re going to be my best man. The fucking housekeeper is going to be her maid-of-honour. It’s going to be a big fucking wedding and everyone in the goddamned country is going to be invited. And they all better fucking show up and congratulate us.”

Arturo’s face is red. I can’t tell if he pissed, afraid or pissing himself. “Luis, let me go.”

He doesn't give me the right answer, so I press the blade a little harder against his jugular. “We go in united, as a family. I head this fucking family and you're my goddamned second. You don’t want the job, I’ll find someone else who does. I know a few that would step up. But you’re family, you asshole. Loyal to the end.”

I shove him hard then release him, turn my back and walk to the bar, grab the first bottle I encounter and unscrew the cap. Fucking tequila. I pour two glasses, hand one to Arturo, who's rubbing at his throat, at the thin line where my knife penetrated skin. “Now toast me, you fucking bastard. And promise your loyalty to both me and Lena. Or I’ll fuck up you and the rest of your family.”

Arturo wraps his fingers around the glass as he looks down at the amber liquid. Then he meets my eyes and raises his glass. “Here’s to you, Luis. And your virginal wife.”

I plow my fist into his face so hard he falls back a few feet, hits the floor with his head. Tequila flies everywhere. He’s down, stunned. I’m standing over him with clenched fists, waiting for the next stupid thing that comes out of his mouth. He laughs, hard, hearty, incongruent with the blood flowing from his mouth. “Fuck tradition, I guess. Marry for love, you stupid bastard.”

I walk away and drop on the couch. I want to go to Lena. I want to wrap myself in her arms and hold her to me. “I intend to.”

Arturo picks himself up off the floor, picks a cloth up off the bar and presses it to his mouth, then looks at the blood. It’s funny. Everyone does that. Always looks at the blood, like it's going to tell a story. He drops into a chair across from me. “So she’s your wife and I’m your second.”

“Yes.”

He tilts his head as his eyes meet mine. “Not your bodyguard?”

I shake my head. “I’ll lock her the fuck her up if she ever puts herself in the line of fire again.” I stop as I think about this. We’ll have babies. She needs to stay safe. “And Arturo, I need to trust you. She needs to trust you.”

Arturo stares down at the bloody cloth he’s holding. “Here’s what you need to know. You head this family. I respect that, expect it, have no desire to lead. I like what I do and you and me, we work well together. You don’t have to watch your back around me. And Lena. She’s your woman, your wife. I respect that. It could be so much fucking worse.” He grins. “You could be marrying my sister.”

We both laugh. Arturo’s sister would send me to an early grave.

We drink, still tequila, then we head downstairs to the cells. Besides Emiliano, there are only two men down there – Tomás’ sons. The rest of Tomás’ men have been removed from the property and, depending on where their loyalty lies, dispatched. Arturo and I are a good match. I prefer a bullet to the head, an easy death, rather than watching men suffer. Arturo, he likes the fight, likes the blood. He’s happy to get his hands dirty. Roberto is the better son. He’s strong, smart, capable. Not a coward. He would do the best job of taking over Tomás’ estate, his leadership. I have Arturo and Emiliano beat him to death in front of his brother.

Renaldo gets to live. Arturo only beats him half to death, then we cut his off his ring finger. A reminder that he’s married to my family. That if he fucks around on us, we bury him. I tell Renaldo to give his regards to his wife and kids. I will be by to meet with him next week. Emiliano and a couple of his men return Renaldo along with Roberto’s body back to Tomás’ estate.

“Get out of my house,” I say to Arturo. He grins savagely. His blood lust is sated. Now he can go find some drink and some pussy.

The house is quiet as I enter the main floor. No staff and I have this sudden awareness of how empty it is without my father. I slip my hands into my pockets and lean against a wall, surveying the shadows as I feel grief, atonement, love and the weight of responsibility. I’ve had my first success as head of this cartel, of this family. I have avenged my father’s death and I have destroyed an enemy. It’s a heady feeling.

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