Page 39 of Blood Ties
Miguel
Marcus has two guards standing outside his house. They were too busy wrapped in conversation to see me walk through the empty gate. They aren't the same ones as last time. It's funny he thinks these guys will be more challenging than the last ones or maybe those guys didn't want to risk waking tied up in a food pantry again.
I grin wickedly, pulling out a few firecrackers and a lighter from my pocket. Needing to create a diversion, I toss them as far as I can near a large fountain. The men stop talking, standing up straight on high alert. One walks toward the fireworks and the other searches the other side of the house, turning his back to me. It's way too easy to slam him against the wall, forcing his arm behind his back, bending it until he drops the gun. I pull out a syringe and inject him with Ketamine. He sways back andforth, his eyes hazy. I take my gun and slam him on the side of the head to speed up the process. "Goodnight, sweetheart."
Heavy footsteps rush toward me and I drop to the floor, rolling underneath a nearby car. I lie flat on my back; pretty sure I pulled a hip muscle. I'm getting too old for this shit, but it never stops giving me the adrenaline rush I crave. The man walks past me, lifting his gun in the air. He pauses when he spots his friend on the ground. He bends down, checking the man's pulse and when he's too distracted with pulling out his phone, I roll away from the car and quickly get to my feet. He looks back with surprised eyes and I smile, pointing my gun at him. "Drop the phone."
Doing as I ask, he lifts his hands in the air and his weapon crashes to the ground. "What do you want?"
"To see Marcus. I want to give him a kiss goodnight."
The man's forehead wrinkles and before he can say anything else, I kick him in the back, and he lands on his friend. I place my foot on him. "Don't worry, this will only hurt if you fight me."
He stays still, his breathing growing heavy. He doesn't beg for his life and closes his eyes, pressing his palms to the ground. I pull out another syringe, injecting him the same way I did his friend. He doesn't take as long to pass out though. At least both won't wake up with a head injury. I tie them up and put them in the back of one of the open vehicles, before heading toward the house. Someone opens the door, walking out onto the porch searching around with confusion etched on his face. Without closing the door behind him, he walks toward the fountain, staring at the burned fireworks on the ground. When he turns around his face is met with my gun. "Are there any more men inside the house besides Marcus? Choose your answer wisely."
He shakes his head and his cigarette falls from his mouth. "There is only us three tonight, but you're stupid to think youcan just walk in without Marcus noticing. He more than likely already knows you're here."
"Good." I grin wickedly. "You're going to join your friends in the back seat for a little while."
I tie him up and gag his mouth before shoving him in with the others. I take cautious steps toward the house, staying aware of my surroundings. I softly close the door behind me and carefully walk up the stairs. The house is dark and quiet. The only light on is the one coming from a bedroom on the second floor. I stay along the wall and peek around the door frame. Marcus is facing the opposite way with a drink in his hand.
When I quietly enter his bedroom, he's sitting in a chair with his robe open at the top. It hangs loosely off his shoulders, standing out against his tan skin. He remains facing the fireplace as I walk closer, the crackling sounds drowning out my steps. I reach for his neck, but before my fingers can graze the back he pulls out a gun, quickly pointing it in my direction. "Don't you know better than to sneak up on people?"
"Don't you know better not to aim a gun at your guests."
"I never invited you tonight. I advise you to turn around and leave the way you came.”
“You said I could come give you a kiss goodnight as long as I made it past your guards. You really need to hire better people.”
He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Why are you still here?”
I grin, stepping closer. "Because you haven't forced me to leave yet.”
He sighs, shrugging. "What's the point? You'd just sneak your way back in and I'm tired of you knocking out my men. You left Vincent with a head injury last time."
"He shouldn't have fought so hard."
He groans, standing up from the chair. He presses the gun to my head. "What do you want, Miguel?"
"To ensure you make it to bed okay and to do what I said I would do."
He huffs out a laugh. "I should kill you where you stand then I no longer have to worry about you breaking into my house anymore."
"Why don't you?"
"Because I still need your help and you're right about us being stronger together. But once this is over, I'll make sure you remain in Mexico even if I have to lock you up in a box and bury you in the ground myself."
I lick my lips, staring at the way the robe hugs his hips. "Even after all these years, you still have a way with words."
He shoves the gun harder, digging the muzzle into my skin. "I'm going to ask you again, pendejo. Why are you here? Don’t give me some bullshit answer about this being about some goodnight kiss either. We know it’s about more than that."
"To show you a better way to use that gun."
He tilts his head to the side, squinting his eyes and I take advantage of him being caught off guard, grabbing his arm, lifting it in the air. I quickly spin his body around, forcing his arm to remain raised, causing him to shoot a hole in the ceiling. "Someone's out of practice. You've been sitting behind a desk too long, old man.” I push him down on the bed, pulling his arm behind his back, getting him to loosen his grip on the gun.
"Fuck you," he spits. "Let me go."
"I will once our gun lesson is over." I hold his arms down, with one hand and the weight of my body. My free fingers make sure the safety is on before sliding the gun up his robe, running it on his inner thigh. "You should know better than to point a gun at me, yet you keep doing it anyway. There are consequences for your actions, Mi conejito and you are just begging to be punished." I nuzzle the gun between his cheeks, rubbing his hole with the muzzle. "Not once did we treat each other this way, noteven when we were angry. We said we'd be the last to ever hurt each other, remember? There was enough of it coming from the outside."
