Page 58 of Echoes and Oaths
The men he’d killed at the cantina. Jinx shrugged. “If they don’t know how to treat an animal or a man, they shouldn’t be breathing.”
Simón chuckled under his breath. “They’re not crying about it, trust me. Still …”
He turned slightly, facing Jinx squarely. “We need the formality, Mateo. You understand.”
Jinx’s mouth curled into a humorless smile. “Blood in, blood out.”
Simón nodded. “Exactly.”
He hooked a thumb back toward the SUVs. “We got a place set up. It shouldn’t take long. After that there will be no questions. No doubts.”
Jinx lifted an eyebrow. “And if I say no?”
Simón spread his hands. “Come on, hermano. You won’t.”
Jinx stared at him for a long moment, then jerked his chin toward the vehicles. “Let’s get it over with.”
Simón’s smile widened. “Knew you were smart.”
Jinx let Simón walk ahead. Instinctively, his mind had already sliced the current situation apart. He’d counted guards and knew how to use the pistol tucked against his back. They hadn’t searched him. He'd be a fool if he weren’t carrying at least one weapon. All the men watching him return to the SUVs knew he was armed.
However, for now, survival meant playing the part of being loyal. And Mateo was nothing if not loyal. Only his loyalty was to Guardian Security and his family. The cartel wouldn’t know that until it was too late. Any test they put in front of him, he would pass. With the connection between the two brothers now known, going with the cartel’s offer was the only way to get to Tomás’s brother. Tomás would die first. Then Esteban.
The ride was silent.
Simón sat in the back seat with Jinx, pretending to have casual ease, but Jinx could feel the tension vibrating through him. The other SUV followed close, in case Jinx decided to kill the occupants of the SUV he was in. He’d seen it happen when he was an enforcer. The damn fool was drilled full of holesfor his trouble. Whether it was stupidity or nerves, the guy never stood a chance.
Thick country blurred past the windows, the road narrowing the farther they traveled.
After twenty minutes, they turned off onto a whisper of what was once a gravel road. Jinx’s hand rested lightly on his thigh. His back was angled toward the door, giving him access to his weapon should he need it, but he made no move for it. Mateo Rivas was back. The mentality and personality slipped over him like a well-worn garment. Since Eira and Teo had left that morning, he’d shaken off the last vestige of civil humanity and become that stone-cold killer again. Killing didn’t bother him. The people who were at that level of the cartel were not innocents.
The SUV rolled to a stop in front of a crumbling hacienda. He could see that it had once been a grand estate. White stucco walls, tiled roof, and wide archways were covered in dirt and weeds. It was a ruin, which was perfect for blood and secrets.
Jinx stepped out of the SUV first, scanning the edges of the property. There were three guards at the gate they’d just entered. Two more were near the entrance of the dying hacienda, and there were probably more inside.
Simón walked around the SUV and stood beside him. “After you,” Simón said as if they were entering a bar for a drink. Jinx saw everything. The guards tightened as he walked past and went through the door. Inside, it was darker, and he slowed his walk a bit to allow his eyes to adjust. The air was thick with mildew and old wood smoke. Graffiti smeared the walls. Bullet holes peppered the far arch. As they passed through the entryway, an open courtyard expanded in front of him. A single chair sat in the center of the tall grass and weeds that had overrun the area.
Tied to the chair was a bruised, bloody man. He recognized him from years ago. He’d worked with him. Drank with him. The man was a bastard of the highest order. He was a rapist, a murderer, and a greedy son of a bitch who would do anything to make a buck.
Jinx’s expression didn’t flicker.
“Luis has gotten greedy,” Simón said. “He was selling information to people who want to dismantle our grip on the area.”
Jinx knew the drill. Because Mateo knew this man, because they thought they had a relationship, Luis was here and offered up for a test of loyalty.
Simón strolled forward, pulling a pistol from hiswaistband and flipping it in his hand grip-first toward Jinx.
“Your old friend,” Simón said conversationally. “Caught selling intel to the wrong people.”
Jinx took the weapon. The weight was familiar. It was loaded. He could tell by the way it felt in his hand. Jinx looked at Luis, who lifted his head. One eye was swollen shut. His face was a roadmap of bruises, and his lips were cracked and bleeding.
“Mateo,” he croaked. “Good.” He nodded. “Good.”
No plea. No apology. Just recognition of what was to happen. Jinx approached slowly, every step echoing against the broken stones. Simón and the others formed a loose half-circle, giving him space and also ensuring he’d be killed if he didn’t do what was intended.
Jinx stood over Luis, pistol loose in his hand. “You disappoint me,” he said quietly.
Luis’s jaw trembled, and a tear leaked from his good eye. Jinx raised the gun. Any hesitation would be his death. Mateo wouldn’t hesitate. It was what Luis needed, too. Immediate. No more torture. He pulled the trigger. The shot cracked like a whip, echoing in the confines of the small courtyard.
