And he’s the one Papa wants me to sway in our favor or feed to the dogs.
The difference between this captain and the rest at this table is that he’s no Sicario. Instead, he’s a rogue DEA agent who’s looking to make a quick buck and keep his head attached to his shoulders while crossing the border in and out of Mexico.
“You look nice today, Tati,” Lorenzo Munoz says with a grin. I give him a withering stare as I lean back in the chair. He’s the underboss of the Vargas Cartel in Durango and can be as ruthless as he is seductive. The problem is that he doesn’t know how to dial it down when I’m within his reach, and it puts me off each and every time.
“Thanks,” I reply curtly.
Jackass or not, I have to acknowledge his bullshit otherwise it puts Papa’s business in danger.
“Where the fuck is this pendejo?” I ask loudly after another ten minutes passes.
“Think this is a set up?” Lorenzo asks thoughtfully.
“If it is, no motherfucker who enters this room uninvited leaves alive,” I declare to the rest of the men at the table. They look at each other, eyebrows raised, before nodding and murmuring their agreements to my declaration.
Of course, this is where Ana Sofia would be the most useful.Perhaps I should have told her where I was going after all.
Clearing my throat, I reach for the folder that had been set down in front of my chair before I arrived. Flipping it open, I lay my sunglasses down then pick it up and stare at the picture.
He’s a handsome man, even if a little on the rough looking side. The photo is colorized so I’m able to take in the pale hue of his skin, the shock of green in his otherwise vacant eyes, and the dark blonde hair that sits messily on his head. Granted, this isn’t an official picture, but the Vargas boys have never been much for taking their time when scouting.
That’s why they’re at the bottom of the food chain around here. Lack of patience leads to messy endings and I long for the day that we can finally be done with them.
“Got a crush, Tati?” Lorenzo asks with a chuckle.
I glance up at him dangerously over the top of the file, my eyes narrowing at the tight smile on his face. I wish he would learn to have some fucking class. He reminds me of the unskilled young boys that tease the girls they like, then when all else fails, attempt embarrassment.
“No, I think he’s more your type, Enzo,” I snipe at him, a grin forming on my lips when the rest of the men at the table begin to chuckle under their breaths.
He gives me a level stare as he glances quickly up and down the line of powerful underbosses, then forces a tight smile onto his face.
“Cabróna,” he shoots back, danger beginning to dance in his eyes.
I shrug as I go back to my research. I’m not entirely thrilled to be kept waiting, nor am I exactly interested in staying longer than I told Papa that I would. He’ll send every Sicario he has to Altata just to bring me back home.
And if he doesn’t, he’ll send something much more dangerous—Ana Sofia.
I wait ten more minutes and when the informant still hasn’t arrived, I get to my feet and grab my sunglasses.
“I don’t have time for this bullshit. Keep me posted on what happened,” I say to no one in particular as I turn on my heel and head for the door.
I can only hope that leaving these men behind won’t mean their demise, and if it does, then I’ll have to find a way to explain to all of the bosses of Mexico why I wasn’t there to save them.
Chapter Four
I getto my car and slip into the driver’s seat, giving myself a once over in the rearview mirror. Tucking my hair behind my ears, I let out a sigh as I reach for my purse and fish around for the keys.
Once I locate them, I toss my bag back into the passenger seat and start the car. As soon as I’m ready to pull out of my spot, I see something curious that catches my attention.
A man I’ve never met before is walking up the street toward the building. He casts suspicious glances over his shoulder, then disappears into the front door of the safe house.
I know that I should turn the car off and go back inside because he looks so goddamn much like the man in the photo, but the problem is that if I enter behind him, the rest of the men inside will suspect me of being in tandem with him and that’s not something I want to bring down on our father’s house.
However, it gives me an even better idea.
I snake a hand across the way to fish around in my purse for my phone. I take a deep breath as I tap the screen to life, then quickly go to my call log.
The picture I have of my sister as her contact photo is one of my favorites of us. She has her arms wrapped around my neck, smiling so brightly at my resistance of her affection, made clear by the frazzled smile on my face.