Page 6 of Cartel Cobra

I don’t doubt for a moment that Lucy would be that kind of mother.

Why the fuck did I think that? What the fuck is wrong with me? I’ve wanted to fuck women before, but never have they distracted me this much.

Humberto stares at me, then nods. “If I didn’t know your mother, I might think you’re a pussy. She scares even me.”

That’s not saying much, considering how many guards he has at his house and how many who go everywhere with him. He fears the fucking wind. He wouldn’t have to if he’d leave his older brother alone, but he’s so fucking jealous of Josue that he can’t help himself.

“Dinner’s at seven-thirty, so I’ll get there around eight-fifteen. Did you find out who else will be there?” He assumes his family will wait for him, but they won’t. He’ll have a hissy fit the entire way home that I’ll have to listen to.

“Domingo and his parents, Matáis, and Josue’s family.” I almost wince since Humberto hates being reminded that Josue only considers his wife and children to be his family.

He gives me a disgusted look before sitting behind his desk. He shuffles some papers as though he has shit I can’t see. It doesn’t impress me, and my focus on the garden tells him how little I care. Lucy might have heard of me as Humberto’s enforcer, but I don’t need to work for the man. I don’tneedto work for anyone. I have more than enough money I earned on my own, never mind what I’ll inherit. Humberto knows that. He truly believes I want to fuck his brother over as much as he does.

I’ve worked past that. Barely.

“Sounds like wedding bells are already ringing. Josue must plan to announce the date regardless of whether Luciana’s ready.”

“I read her and her sister’s lips well enough to know they talked about him for a bit. She seemed no more excited when she talked about him than she did when she talked to him.”

Humberto and his minions don’t need to know I’m a fluent lipreader. My cousin Alicia is two weeks older than me and was born deaf. Our fathers feared for her since the day they discovered she can’t hear. They worried someone would take advantage of her or abduct her if she didn’t hear them coming. They appointed me her guardian after I’d already appointed myself.

She and I were best friends growing up until our interests went in different directions and so did our responsibilities. But when she was learning to read lips, so was I. We’d already learned sign language together. We spent hours practicing together as she learned to talk. People still expect me to be her interpreter, but I let her speak for herself. I wouldn’t want to disappoint her any more than I do my mother, so I have double the reason to never hurt a woman.

I won’t tell Humberto or anyone else what I learned about Luciana’s sexual preferences. Realizing she’s into kink didn’t make my cock calm down. Just the opposite. Lurid images of tying her up and fucking her while she begged for more keep playing through my mind even as I talk to hertío, my boss.

“Did you get any hint of when the date might be?”

“No. They never talked about that. Nothing beyond suspecting the announcement tonight.”

“We can’t wait much longer. We’ll have to act sooner than I wanted. Enrique and Luis plan to come home for Josue’s birthday next week. I want Josue dead by the time they land on Thursday.”

Fuck. Talk about accelerating the timeline.

“You better do it while they’re in the air because they’ll start shooting the moment they land if they find out he’s dead before they get here.”

“I’d better? You’d better. I can have anyone watch his daughters. I wanted you to seduce the younger one to get closer to Josue. But if you have to shoot him from a rooftop, then that’s what you’ll do.”

“Even if I used Luciana to get to know Josue, that would take longer than you’re willing to wait. And even if I got close to him, I could never draw a gun on him without getting shot myself. I told you I wouldn’t die for you, Humberto. I’ll work for you, but you know my loyalty is to my family, not you. I’ve never pretended anything else.”

If we weren’t alone in his office, I’d never say what I’m saying. He’d have to save face and put me where he believes is my place. He hates how I don’t bow down to him in private. It eats at him that I don’t cower, but he wants my skills. The only people who rival my marksmanship are Enrique and Luis. I’ve heard their sisters are even better than them, but I haven’t seen them in a gunfight. I’ve seen Enrique and Luis.

Humberto picks up his phone. I know he’s probably opening his game or looking at the screen. He wants me to know I’m dismissed.

“Fine. He’ll go to the airport to meet them. Kill him on the way there.”

I’m fighting not to fidget as the minutes tick away. I just looked at my watch less than two minutes ago, so I know Luis is late.Looking at it again will do nothing but confirm that. It won’t make him show up.

If you fidget, then maybe you won’t pace.

My boat isn’t long enough for me to do that, and I don’t need anyone detecting my movement, despite the lights and engine being off. I’m bobbing in the circular lake an hour and a half north of Bogotá. Lake Guatavita sits within a crater that’s only fifty acres in size. My boat’s visible from the shore, so any movement could alert someone to my presence, especially since boats are prohibited out here.

One boat alone is suspicious. Two boats tells people they want nothing to do with whatever’s happening on the water. Some may think it’s a Cartel meeting. Hopefully, most would believe it’s a superstitious offering to the ancient Muisca god.El Dorado—or the “golden one” as our Spanish conquerors calledzipa.

Luis Diaz—if his ass shows up—wouldn’t be the one covered in gold out here. If things go to plan, that’ll be Humberto’s ass. Well, maybe not. The legend said the god washes away his gold and emerges from the water. The last thing we need is Humberto coming back from the dead or any of his jewels floating to the surface to give us away.

I turn my head toward the soft whir coming from the approaching boat. The wake it casts laps against mine as I reach for my gun. I rest it on my lap, waiting to be sure it’s friend not foe before I shoot. I recognize Luis immediately. His frame is broader than mine, but he’s leaner. Too much time already spent in and out of Colombian prisons visiting anyone who forgets they breathe in those cesspits because Josue allows it. He’s not even in his mid-twenties, and he’s already earned the nicknameel Espíritu Santo—the Holy Spirit—because you know your soul’s leaving your body if he’s come to see you.

“Hola, amigo.”

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