Page 60 of Bad Men

The fleshy folds of Thiago’s throat bobbed and wiggled, mimicking the quiver in his multi-layered chins. “I … I was going to tell you now—”

“Now?” Alejandro cocked his head to one side. “When it’s too late to do anything about it?”

“This isn’t the first shipment to get pegged,” Emmanuel Narvaez interjected. “No one is safe. It’s that fucking Devil—”

“Someone is talking,” Joaquin piped in, embolden by the misdirection of the conversation. “It has to be someone from inside—”

“Are you saying someone in our family would talk to the authorities?” Alejandro narrowed his eyes. “I hope you have proof to back your accusation, Joaquin.”

Joaquin shrank in his seat. “I … I didn’t mean … it’s not just our shipments. All the other—”

“I don’t care about the others!” Eduardo rounded on Thiago, eyes alive with fury. “I care about my shipments. I want to know where my product is.”

Thiago looked on the verge of shitting himself. His skin had taken on a pasty complexion that reminded me of soured milk.

“Where is the product, Thiago?” Alejandro stepped in, his tone deceivingly gentle.

“Impound,” Thiago breathed.

Eduardo gave the smallest of nods, which was enough for Alejandro to motion someone into the room. One of Eduardo’s burly thugs walked straight over to where Thiago sat cowering in his seat and pulled out a gun. It was leveled to the back of Thiago skull.

“Joseph will accompany you to wherever my product is being kept,” Eduardo stated evenly. “You will get it out. I don’t care what you have to do. Once it is safely tucked away in my warehouse, I will decide your fate.”

Thiago’s chair was yanked out by Joseph and he was marched from the room at gunpoint. Joaquin never hesitated. He shoved off the wall and scampered after the pair. Everyone listened until their combined footfalls faded into the distance.

A knowing silence descended on the those of us remaining. All eyes were on the vacated seat. No one had the guts to be next on the chopping block by meeting Eduardo’s gaze.

“Now that that matter has been settled.” Eduardo shifted back in his chair, fingers folding neatly beneath his chin as he surveyed the rest of his flock with cool, brown eyes. “Let’s discuss new business.”

There was no new business. There never really was. All the ways that we could make money was already being utilized. There wasn’t a single stone left unturned, but every week, Eduardo would ask, and everyone would do their best to put a spin on their previous idea, hoping it might spark approval. Except, Eduardo wasn’t stupid. He could smell a money-making scheme from a mile away. The guy wasn’t the leader of an entire city because he could easily be fooled. He rose to power before he was even in his thirties, kept that power well into his sixties and held on to it with an iron fist. He’d been in charge since my dad was a kid and he’d most likely stay in charge well after I was dead. He accepted no bullshit, took no prisoners. Dad used to say Eduardo Bernardo was a man I should look up to and take note. He was the kind of man I should emulate, and I did — to a point.

Eduardo wouldn’t be around forever. One day, he would step down or get taken out by a rival. Who was to say me or Nero couldn’t take that seat? It was a long shot, but it wasn’t impossible. The other men at that table were all old, rundown and beaten. They clung to the old ways, ways that no longer worked. With them gone, we could start a new organization with fresh minds and ideas. We’d have to clean house. Start fresh. It wouldn’t be easy, but we could build an even bigger empire given the chance.

“Is no one trying?” Eduardo bellowed when the last person had gone. His gaze slithered from face to face, cold and disappointed. “Perhaps you’re all getting comfortable in your positions and I need to start searching for newer, hungrier people.”

I knew I was safe.

I knew Nero was safe as well.

We didn’t have an operation to oversee. We weren’t in charge of filtering, processing, and organizing thousands of Eduardo’s hustles. I just collected money from people who had Eduardo’s protection. Nero did what he was told, when he was told. We didn’t have to think of anything, except what we were already doing.

“Fine.” Smooth palms slapped onto the surface of the table and Eduardo shoved to his feet. “You have left me no choice.” He straightened. “Each of you has one week to think of something new, something mind blowing, or it will be the last time you sit at my table.”

Without waiting for a single protest, Eduardo swept from the room with Alejandro a step behind him. The arrogant prick never glanced our way. He marched out with his master, a loyal dog with a vicious bite. I waited until he and Eduardo were out of earshot before turning to Nero.

“How is she?”

It was in the single side glance he shot me. It was in the tight pinch of his lips, the hard knot in his jaw. He looked away, but the lingering burn of his rage sizzled between us.

“That bastard!”

He grabbed my arm when I shoved to my feet. His fingers were cold bars of steel over heated skin. Blunt nails bit into flesh. The pain brought me back to myself.

“Don’t be stupid,” he muttered under his breath, just loud enough for my ears. Releasing me, he got to his own feet as if nothing were amiss. He pushed in his chair and started for the door.

I followed, leaving my chair out. It was petty and ridiculous; it wasn’t as if Alejandro would be coming around to push in chairs. But it made me feel better.

Outside in the blanket of murky dusk, I stopped between my car and Nero’s bike and faced the other man squarely.

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