I glance in his direction, intentionally taking my eyes off Miguel, letting Miguel know he worries me about as much as a gnat. Considering Kane believes him to be emotional and brutal, that’s not a hundred percent true, but I’m an advocate of playing the hand you’ve been given and doing so like you have a king and an ace, not a couple of twos.
“He’s a drug lord, Andrew,” I say. “You’re the chief of police and the son of the future governor. He’d much rather own you than shoot you.” Now, and only now, I offer Miguel a bored stare. “Isn’t that right, Miguel?”
Miguel’s eyes narrow sharply, a tic forming in his jaw. “I might not kill him,” he says, not even bothering to deny I’m accurate. “But I could make him bleed.” He shifts his weapon to Andrew. “Should I demonstrate?”
To Andrew’s credit—maybe he is worthy of the title “my brother” after all—he doesn’t so much as flinch. Miguel narrows his dark eyes on me. He’s a tall, good-looking man, with a swipe of gray in his dark hair. He favors Kane in looks, but that’s where the resemblance stops. One is a willing crime lord, brutal in all he does. The other, the founder of an oil company, who was born to a father who once ran the cartel, who most believe should now reign as kingpin. Kane might as well be kingpin for the frequency he is pulled into the cartel to save the lives Miguel butchers with his selfish actions.
“Since I’d enjoy watching you make a fool of yourself in front of this many witnesses,” I lean in a bit and whisper, “I think you should go for it.”
“Thank you, Lilah,” Andrew states tightly. “Don’t ask me to bury any more bodies for you.”
Miguel’s brow lifts, which I ignore. I’m an expert at ignoring stupid people even when they’re holding guns that happen to be pointed at me. It’s a skill I generally believe to be underappreciated, though on some level I think I’m cold inside about everything and everyone but Kane. It’s why I married him. He’s ironically the reason I’m not the female version of Dexter and also the reason I’m contemplating how to kill a drug lord and get away with it.
On a separate but kind of similar note, my brother isn’t stupid at all. He just handed me a gift and it wasn’t an accident. I now get to answer Miguel’s raised eyebrow.
“He was kidding about burying bodies for me,” I say. “Mostly.”
Miguel snorts. “Neither one of you buries bodies. That’s not how your badge works.”
“You’ve never quite gotten the memo about me, now, have you? I see dead people. Not all of them were like that when I met them.”
“I’m so scared,” Miguel says. “I’m shaking in my boots.” He laughs. “Like I said, you have rules. I do not.”
“See, this is how I end up killing people. They’re just too stupid to live. Thank God, I have a boss who knows that, much like Dexter, who called his dark side his Dark Passenger, I too have my very own Dark Passenger. And he likes it. He actually seems to prefer when I clean up the trash for him.”
“The worst part about that statement,” Andrew replies, “is it’s true. You do have a Dexter-like Dark Passenger. Holy hell. You do. And to think I once thought that side of you was all about Kane. You need therapy, Sis.”
I could tell my brother to put a sock in his mental breakdown, but he made a good point. “It is all about Kane,” I say. “At least to Miguel. That’s why he had Kane’s chopper tampered with. That’s why he tried to kill him. He’s tired of it all being about Kane.” There is a heavy beat of shock in the air as if I’ve said what the men have wanted to say but did not dare.
“If I wanted Kane dead,” he bristles, and adds, “he’d be dead.”
“Oh, you want him dead,” I reply. “Of that, there is no question. And as flawed as your plan might be tonight, and it is flawed, you decided to even the playing field. Kane intrudes into your world. You want him to see how easily you can intrude on his. That’s why you tried to kill my father tonight. He’s well-guarded and if not for Kane, he’d be dead. That effort, this confrontation, it’s all about sending a message to Kane that nothing is sacred and there are no rules in war.”
“Is that true?” Andrew demands, and he steps toward Miguel.
I grab his arm and thank fuck, he halts. Dumbass brother, protecting the honor of our father, who would rather see us die than give up power. A badge and honor can sometimes make the holder, aka my brother, act on those things in a way that reads as dumb and blind, which is a good way to get dead and gone.
I’m the only one who gets to kill my brother, and the look I level on Miguel says as much.
His lips curve and the look in his eyes is pure devious. “Emotional, isn’t he?”
Andrew murmurs something nasty to him in Spanish –yes, he too, knows Spanish but prefers to keep that detail under wraps. It’s a skill, if unknown to others, that can be rather informative. What people don’t know can be used against them. In summary, though, Andrew has just told Miguel he will make him pay for what he has done in the nastiest words I’ve ever heard my brother speak.
Hand me the soap and water, the choir boy is in trouble.
Miguel’s lips quirk at Andrew’s graphic vow. He’s amused and nothing more. “You’re la raza now,” he reminds Andrew. “Family. We are bonded by your sister and my nephew. Don’t forget it.”
He glances at me. “Tell my hombrecito, Kane.”Hombrecitomeaning “little man.” “Uncle Miguel said hello.” He turns to walk away, giving me his back, dismissing any danger I might represent.
If I let him walk away, he looks strong, Kane looks weak, like the “little man” and both me and Andrew look like easy targets. I don’t need to think any harder. Now is the time I test his men’s loyalty because I’m about to give them a reason to act against me and for Miguel. I reach for my purse and my knife is in my palm, in the open, in an instant. And anyone who knows me well knows what happens when I hold a knife.
Chapter Two
The blade I hold in my delicate little hands—everyone knows “delicate” describes me to a tee—is nice and shiny, not to mention sharper than even my tongue. In other words, it’s lethal. And as much as I love a good lethal blade, I’d prefer my firearm right about now. It’s easier to handle multiple targets. But it’s under my skirt, and if I show these men my underwear, I’ll have to kill them. Not that I’m not willing to kill them all, but considering not one of them stopped me from retrieving my weapon, I’m not sure that’s how this has to end.
But then, the cartel’s preference for Kane over Miguel in the wake of Kane’s father’s death is the entire problem at hand. It’s why Miguel wants Kane dead. It’s why Kane can’t seem to walk away from what was his father’s world, but never his world by aspiration. A criminal organization that craves Kane for his ability to both control his enemies and create a tenable existence outside of violence is pure irony in its finest form.
It also speaks of what a low-life, ineffective leader Miguel has become since claiming the reins some years before. His is a legacy that would be built on rivers of blood if Kane didn’t step in and negotiate a better path. It is this inside view that has allowed me to accept Kane’s connection to the cartel rather than shun its existence. But there is a truth here I can never escape. If I kill Miguel, Kane inherits the cartel and for this reason, I have promised Kane not to kill his uncle. But I never said anything about not hurting him. Hurt him, I intend to. And I have such a delicious plan to bring him to his knees.