Page 39 of Echoes and Oaths
“I said, leave,” the man barked, stepping closer. “Do you not hear me?” The man’s hand clamped down on Jinx’s shoulder.
Mistake.
Jinx reacted in a split second, faster than breath. He spun, automatic in hand, and pressed the barrel to the man’s temple. Before anyone could process what was happening, Jinx pulled the trigger.
The man’s body crumpled to the floor in a heap.
Without hesitation, Jinx drew his second automatic, leveling it at a man he recognized. A messenger boy from back in the day, before Jinx had walked away from this nightmare.
“Tell them to back the fuck off,” Jinx ordered, his voice low, razor-sharp.
Recognition flared in the man’s eyes. “Mateo? Holy hell … Mateo, is that you?”
“Mateo? What? Who?” another man said, gaping at the corpse on the floor. His voice shook. “Ortega’s gonna order us to kill this bastard.” The man motioned toward Jinx.
Jinx’s revolver shifted instantly, pressing hard against the second man’s forehead. He stepped close, invading the man’s space like death itself. “One more word,” Jinx said softly, dangerously, “and you’re dead.”
Behind him, the stray dog whimpered and then yelped. “Move, fucking mutt.” The bastard had kicked the defenseless animal. Jinx’s instincts flared. His revolver snapped to the side and fired without hesitation.
Another man dropped like a stone.
He was back on target with his forty-five before anyone understood what happened. “Anyone else care to test me or kick an innocent animal?” Jinx asked, voice dripping ice.
The first man, the one who’d recognized him, threw his hands up, palms wide in surrender. “Mateo, yo … we’re cool. We’re cool! Ain’t nobody gonna bother you or the dog. Right, guys? This is Mateo Rivas. Enforcer from Montoya’s time.TheMateo, man. You’ve heard stories about this guy, and they’re all fucking true.”
As one, the men seemed to back off. Hands moved away from weapons, and tension eased. Jinx’s gaze narrowed on the young man in front of him.
“I know you,” Jinx said finally. “You were a messenger when I left.”
The man straightened his shoulders, puffing up like he wanted to prove himself. “That’s right. My name’s Diego. I’m an enforcer now.” His fingers hovered near the weapons strapped at his waist as if Jinx couldn’t tell who he was pretending to be.
Jinx stepped back toward the bar, holstered one of his revolvers, and reached for his half-finished beer. He took a long, casual sip, then nodded toward the bodies cooling on the tile floor.
“Get your trash out of here.”
Diego repeated the command without hesitation, and the others moved quickly, almost too quickly, dragging their fallen companions out the door. Jinx watched and noted each man’s face. The one who’d talked to Eira yesterday wasn’t present. Several older men were missing from what he could see, but then again, so was an SUV. They were probably going to get Ortega’s dog from Eira. He thanked God that Raven was there. Not that he doubted Eira could take care of herself, but Raven would ensure she wouldn’t have to do so.
Jinx pulled a wad of cash from his pocket and dropped it on the bar without looking at the woman behind it. “For your troubles. And the cleanup.”
The woman didn’t say a word. She took the money and wiped the stained countertop, her gaze flicking nervously toward the door as if she were expecting someone else. He was, too. The third SUV hadn’t arrived and with all the junior people in this bar now, the older, more deadly people had yet to make their presence known.
Diego lingered beside Jinx, voice low. “Where’ve you been, man?”
Jinx cast him a sideways glance, his mouth twisting into something that wasn’t quite a smile. “Other countries. Other wars.”
The man’s expression tightened. “Ortega will want to see you. Maybe bring you into the fold. You’d be one hell of an asset.”
“Ortega?” Jinx snorted, the sound more lethal than amused.
Diego nodded slowly. “He’s El Jefe now.”
Jinx watched as the remaining cartel men quietly claimed their seats, their bravado stripped bare. None of them moved fast. None of them reached for weapons. That might’ve had something to do with the revolver still resting loose and easy in his hand. One held a cell phone and was pointing it toward him. He lifted his automatic. “Delete the fucking picture now, or I’ll do it after you’re dead.”
The man dropped the phone, and it clattered on the wooden tabletop. The guilty look and hard swallow that followed told Jinx he’d been right. “I said delete the fucker.”
“Andres, give me the phone,” Diego said, walking across the room to snatch the phone away. “I’ve warned all of you. This man will kill you, and he won’t lose any sleep doing it.” The man held up the phone so Jinx could see it as he deleted the picture of him. “Done.” He tossed the phone back. “I’m done trying to keep your asses alive.”
Diego walked back to him and leaned against the bar, facing away from his coworkers.
