Page 49 of Tryst

Stowing everything in the trunk, Andres drives us through the city toward the airfield. While he drives, I text the resort manager in Cabo San Lucas to let them know to get my villa ready.

My next text goes out to the men who run my warehouses in Los Cangrejos, complete with pictures of Eduardo and Isabella’s battered face.

There are only so many places to hide in Los Cangrejos, motherfucker.

And I own most of them.

It has only been a couple of hours since Isabella was taken from the penthouse. At most, they will only land in Mexico a few hours before us.

The inability to do virtually anything makes the flight to Mexico feel unimaginably long, and I am happy when we finally land and I can be productive again.

Well, as happy as I can be.

Walking to my hangar, Andres pulls out with the Land Rover. Once he parks it by the plane, we unload the bags of weapons. Pulling two masks from the bags, we climb into the front seat.

“Head to the warehouses first,” I direct Andres, “If there is even the smallest chance Eduardo has turned some of our men, I’m not waiting to find out.”

“Our men?” He questions.

“You know damned well that while this is my father’s legacy,” I turn toward him, “You are my brother and you have helped me build it into the empire that it is.”

“Alejandro…”

“It’s not a discussion. You’ve been making an equal share of profits with me since the beginning.”

He looks at me with a hint of surprise on his face.

“Considering you’re willing to give your life not just to save mine, but to get me back the woman I love, I figured you should know just how important you are to me.”

“Do I need to pull over?” Andres turns to me and gestures to the side of the road.

“What for?”

“I wasn’t sure if you wanted to hug me or suck my cock while you were at it,” he bats his eyes at me.

“Que te jodan.”

“Love you too, brother.”

We are just a few blocks from the warehouse when I pull my mask over my head. Grabbing the wheel, I steer momentarily so that Andres can pull his on as well.

Pulling up to the warehouse, the two men standing guard open the gate to allow us access.

“El jefe,” Rafael calls to me the moment we step from the SUV, “We were not expecting you.”

“I know,” my tone serious, “Is he here?”

“The man from the pictures?” He questions, “No, Jefe. He has not been here.”

“If you see him or if E contacts you, you need to call me immediately. Understand.”

“Si,” he nods his head at me.

Andres and I make similar visits at our warehouses in Legunitas and El Caribe, taking brief walks through each packing facility. Upon leaving all of them, the two of us are more than satisfied that while Eduardo may be working with someone, he has not turned any of my cartel against me.

As much as I want to go through Los Cangrejos door by door looking for Isabella, I know Andres is right when he convinces me to head to the villa at the resort.

“I know it’s going to be hard, if not impossible,” Andres grabs one of the bags from the back of the SUV, “but you need to eat something and try to get some sleep.”

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