The ties that bind 3, p.26
The Ties That Bind 3, page 26
part #3 of The Ties That Bind Series
Cosima laughed softly, obviously enjoying a rare, heartwarming memory. “We met at a nightclub in Los Angeles. I had just turned twenty-one, and Lana insisted that I go out with her and some friends to celebrate. Enrique was there with his friends. Later, I would discover the men were drug lords and that he was negotiating the cartel’s territory with them. I remember dancing with my girlfriends and our eyes meeting across the club. He was older, handsome, and suave with plenty of sophisticated women hanging around his booth, yet he was staring at me.
I smiled at him, and he left the group and approached me. We were inseparable for the rest of the night, dancing and talking. The next day Enrique and I met for lunch. He confessed what he did for a living. I was angry that he lied to me and refused to see him again. With his charm and persistence, he wore me down within a day. Enrique prolonged his business in L. A. as long as possible for me. I saw him daily, sometimes twice in one day until I had to return to Greece. We were devastated that our time together had come to an end. Enrique promised that we would be reunited. He insisted that he was leaving the cartel for good. A week later, he turned up on my parents’ doorstep and asked them for my hand in marriage. Enrique swore that Peña was fine with his choice to step down and that their relationship was still amicable.
Cosima’s voice hardened with cynicism. “On my wedding night. I learned differently, Nico. I learned that there is no escaping this greedy, corrupt lifestyle whether you are born into it or married into it. The differences in how one enters the cartel are insignificant because, in the end, we will all die in it. Look what happened to your papa.”
“What did you say to me, cabrón?” The vein on the right side of Enrique’s temple throbbed furiously.
He didn’t give Benito a chance to respond.
“Papá!” Nick screamed as his father’s fist slammed into the arrogant guard’s jaw.
Benito staggered and tried to take aim. Enrique rushed him, grabbed his wrist and slammed him against the wall. He felled Benito with a knee to the stomach and the gun slipped from his grasp to the floor.
“Not bad for a washed-up drunk, eh?” Enrique jeered as the bodyguard doubled over.
He followed up with a strike to Benito’s temple. Dazed and gasping for breath, he fell to the floor. Enrique advanced, pouncing on the younger man and unleashing a fury of blows that left him laid out and bloodied beyond recognition.
“Parada! Por favor, Jefe!”
This came from the other guard, panicking near the doorway, uncertain of how he should proceed now that his superior was down. Enrique made the decision for him. He grabbed Benito’s gun and put a bullet between the man’s eyes. Adrenaline pumping and crazed with bloodlust, Enrique launched to his feet and headed for the door. A tiny inquiring voice stopped him in his tracks.
“Papá? Vas a salvarla?”
He pivoted around and was horrified to discover that he’d forgotten his son was in the room. Enrique glanced at the door, indecision tearing him apart then back down into Nick’s frightened gray eyes. His love for his son won out. He returned to the boy and crouched before him.
“Sí. I’m going to save your…hmm…Cómo se dice?” Enrique pretended like he was thinking so his son would fill in the correct answer.
Hope lit Nick’s face up. “My mi̱téra?”
His father smiled tearfully and cupped the back of his head and kissed both of Nick’s cheeks, lingering to breathe in his childhood innocence. “Sí. Your mi̱téra.”
Meanwhile, chaos ensued in other parts of the house - shouting, running, and dogs barking.
Tears in his eyes, Enrique placed Nick’s hand over his pounding heart and hoarsely professed, “El amor de mi vida. The love of my life. That’s who she is. I want you to stay hidden behind my desk. Stay there until I come back for you.”
“But, Papá -”
“Sssh! Do not question me! I have failed you and your mama on so many levels. The two of you were never meant for this world and I intend to make it right. Now, go and do as I say. I need to know my heart is safe at all times! I also need to be able to concentrate. Te quiero muchísimo, Nicolas.”
Nick threw his arms around his father and squeezed with his entire might, memorizing the feel of Enrique’s new beard, the cigar brand he smoked, and even the rum he’d been imbibing.
“Yo también te quiero, Papá! Come back for me, okay? I’ll be waiting for you.”
He ran to do his father’s bidding and Enrique straightened with a look of grim determination, hell-bent on finding Gualtierro.
“We end this tonight, brother,” he snarled.
Nick was shaking so hard; the entire desk was rattling. He wished he’d never gotten out of his warm bed. He dropped to his stomach and watched his father. Enrique closed his eyes and made the sign of the cross while he said a quick prayer. Nick covered his mouth with his hand to keep from begging him to stay.
Gun cocked and murder in his eyes, Enrique stepped out of his study and into the fray.
“I’ll never forget that night. Your father killed the guards outside our bedroom to get inside. His ferocity subsided to brokenness when he saw me underneath his brother,” Cosima’s voice fractured and her eyes squeezed shut, tears slipping from the corners.
“Enrique was destroyed! He stood in the doorway and his eyes…God his eyes! I could feel them everywhere crawling like fire ants over me.” Her body shook with the force of her grief and shame.
“No matter how many times that pig violated me, I always had the chance to clean the physical evidence up afterward. I couldn’t scrub his imprint from my mind, but I damn sure tried every time with my body before seeing your papa. Enrique’s shock gave that devil the advantage to go for the gun he kept under the pillow. It was how he kept me in line. He threatened to give the order to shoot you or your father if I even thought of disobeying.”
“Shit! Please stop,” Nick begged, his face wet with tears as he gathered her into his arms. “I can’t take it and you can’t keep reliving it…”
Cosima was too lost in her sorrow to hear his pleas. “Enrique’s death was not instantaneous. The last thing my husband saw was his wife naked for another man and smelling like him as I tried to make his passing easier!” she wailed, clutching at Nick’s tee-shirt.
“Forgive me, Nico! I never wanted you to know. However, I’m tired. I live only for you now. However, there are days when I feel like I can’t stomach another day with this animal. Then I think of you, my Nico who makes me proud daily, and I find the fortitude to go on.”
“Don’t talk like that!” Nick glanced over his shoulder.
Benito stared back expressionlessly. He briefly mulled whether to share Lorelai’s plan with her and decided against it. For her own safety, the less Cosima knew, the better.
“I need you to hold on a little longer for me. Can you do that?”
“Time’s up!” Benito shouted, coming forward. He waved his two-way radio at them. “Jefe wants to see you both. Get dressed. You’re to attend your first big-boy meeting with him,” he mocked.
“We’re not done yet,” Nick drawled. “Now, run along like the servant you are and tell your master.”
Benito was taken aback but had no choice and did what he was told.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” Cosima whispered.
“Yeah, I should. I should have done that a long time ago,” Nick said coldly as a long-buried memory resurfaced. “I just forgot his place and should have remembered mine.”
“This is your fault!” Nick hissed at Benito when he learned of Enrique’s fate.
“Come along, Nico,” Nanny Olympia urged.
She picked him up and headed for the staircase. The bodyguard was seething but wisely kept silent while Gualtierro spoke with Salazar on the phone in a torrent of nervous Spanish. Cosima had to be sedated due to hysterics. Over his nanny’s shoulder, Nick’s eyes bore into Benito’s. He smiled, admiring his father’s skillset that was brutally evident on the young man’s puffy face.
Nick gave him a middle finger salute. “Always remember that the last thing my papa did to you before he died was kick your sorry culo!”
Hearing the profanity, Gualtierro covered the phone piece and shouted, “Cállate!”
The pure unadulterated fury on Nick’s face made his uncle coax, “Por favor, sobrino.”
Instead of obeying him, Nick’s face scrunched up and turned red with anger and injustice. He tipped his head back and howled, “Viva Enrique Olente! Viva Enrique Olente!”
His righteous, pure chant in his father’s honor rang from every corner of the villa. In the courtyard, Enrique’s men, now being held prisoners, heard it and loyally took up the defiant cry for their slain jefe. Gualtierro tried to ignore them and resume his conversation but was visibly rattled. Refusing to be silenced, they screamed it, louder and longer, with more dedication until Barerra finally gave the order to have Nick sedated and the men placed in front of a firing squad.
Nick stepped out of the town car and stretched his limbs. With great suspicion, he eyed the sizeable cabin they’d pulled up to and the dented truck parked next to them. They’d arrived in Albuquerque early this morning and immediately hit the road without even a stop for fucking coffee and a Danish. Benito had driven them to the middle of Timbuktu AKA their current location.
“What is this place?” he asked Gualtierro.
After much discussion, he and Lorelai agreed that any sudden display of interest in the family business would arouse suspicion with his uncle. Nick sat with his usual bored expression, hoping Lorelai was able to get everything that Gualtierro had freely discussed on his cellphone in front of him. He was amazed at the reach of El Muerte Silencio. His uncle was brokering deals for Salazar as far as East Asia and Africa. Nick’s attention was caught by the pricing and negotiation for narcotics and automatic weapons and the locations they’d be picked up. Tucson, Dallas, Houston, Albuquerque, Orlando, and Miami. Nick memorized those cities, dates and times, and contacts just in case the wire he was wearing had any troubles.
“This is normally where all the magic happens, sobrino,” his uncle said grimly, straightening his suit jacket and adjusting his tie.
It was too cryptic an answer for Nick not to prod. “What does that even mean?”
Gualtierro snapped his fingers imperiously. “Come. You will see soon enough.”
Reluctantly, an alert Nick followed with Benito bringing up the rear. The front door opened before they reached it. A white man about his age stood in the entry. Nick’s eyebrows rose at the map of yellow and fading blue discoloration marring his ruddy face. His brown eyes were fearful as he practically curtsied to Gualtierro and his stiff smile was forced, and purely for show.
“Señor Barrera! I-I wasn’t expecting y-you until Monday.”
Holy Christ! Andy was hyperventilating and wrestling to control it. He’d planned to have his daddy and brothers here in case Barrera didn’t believe him and tried anything funny. Guess the fucking joke was on him.
“I was in the area and thought why wait until Monday when I am here now, eh?” The capitán’s smile did not reach his eyes.
“Um, sure. That…works for me. Welcome to my humble abode. Please come in. Can I get y’all anything to drink?”
“Gracias, however, that will not be necessary. This is Nicolas and of course, you know Benito.”
The man stared at Nick. He stared back, wondering why. “Something I can help you with?”
“I, uh, was wondering what happened to your face,” Andy answered. His eyes darted nervously between Gualtierro and Benito, obviously thinking one, or both of them, was responsible for the damage.
Nick flushed at the reminder of his own injuries. “I’ll tell you my story if you tell me yours,” he challenged.
“Since that is the reason we are here, it would be an excellent place to start,” Gualtierro interjected curtly.
Andy flinched at the menace he detected in his boss’s accent. “Yes, of course. Why don’t we head to my office?”
“I prefer you to take me to the scene of the crime.”
Nick’s ears perked up. Crime? He was unquestionably intrigued now.
With a big inhale, Andy nodded. “If you’ll follow me…”
He led them to his bedroom and waited with Nick by the door while Gualtierro and Benito inspected the master suite fastidiously and entered the walk-in closet to do the same. Andy ran his sweaty hands through his hair and stared at the ceiling, looking as if he was about to cry or piss his pants, maybe both, Nick surmised.
“Aww damn! Fuck me! I’m done!”
Nick could smell the acrid stench of fear rolling off of him. “Why? What’d you do?”
Andy was incensed. “Me?! I didn’t do shit! I’m the guy who was just minding his own goddamn business and got fucking jumped in his own house!”
“Tell me what happened,” Gualtierro ordered when they emerged.
“I came home late from an evening out and went directly upstairs to get ready for bed. I turned on the light in my closet and there was this masked big fucker waiting for me. He knocked me out, and when I came to, I saw they were emptying out the safe. There were a few of them, and they all wore masks, but the big one had a gray beard hanging out, and they called him Slade. The others had Kevlar vests on but that leader? It was like he wanted me to know that he ddin’t fear anything! I saw the back of the biker vest he was wearing. It read Immortals MC with a skull design. He gave me a warning for you. Remember that thing I told you?”
“What was the thing?” Nick didn’t care if he was stepping on his uncle’s toes; the director in him was salivating at the drama unfolding.
Andy looked at Gualtierro for permission to speak, and he inclined his head regally. Obediently he repeated, “Today’s your lucky day, pussy. Instead of killing you, I’m making you my errand bitch. Tell Barrera no one appreciates shitheads doing business in their backyard without permission. We already rejected his offer once. This money will go a long way in taking the sting out of his foolish disrespect. If he wants to take issue with that, he can suck my big, fat white dick.”
Nick mentally congratulated himself on keeping his face blank. Later, on the flight home, he would die from laughter at the image of Gualtierro flinching at that last sentence. The rest of the passengers would wonder if he was crazy when he doubled over, tears of joy flowing down his bruised face. For now, he asked the pressing questions three out of the four people in the room wanted to know.
“How did they know you had a safe in there?”
Andy threw his hands up. “I swear on my life that I don’t know! I didn’t think there was anyone fucking suicidal enough to cross him,” he said, jerking his thumb in Barrera’s direction. “I live a simple life and don’t flaunt my money.”
Since the robbery, his mind had been racing for suspects. His ex, Wynona, was the only name that came to mind. It had to be her, but she was nowhere to be found. He’d called around and none of her friends had seen or talked to her. Deep down, he still loved her. Wynona was the only bitch that stuck with him even after he knocked her around. That had to count for something. He wasn’t going to mention her if Barrera didn’t ask if he was, or had been seeing anyone.
“Someone obviously talked,” Nick deduced. “How much did they take?”
“Five hundred sixty-two thousand dollars,” Gualtierro succinctly answered. “Andrew, your answer isn’t entirely true. You enjoy gambling do you not?”
The color drained from the accountant’s face. “I swear one has nothing to do with the other, sir! You know me! We’ve been in business for a long time, and I’ve never given you a reason to doubt me, have I?”
“No, you have not. However, the one thing I demanded of you when we went into business together was that you keep a low profile. Losing twenty thousand dollars at the River Bend Casino is not exactly being discreet,” Gualtierro answered.
“H-How-d-do you know that?!” Andy squeaked.
“Did you think I was simply going to take your word and entrust my money for you to launder without doing my homework? Why? Because your stellar reputation preceded you?”
Money laundering? What else had he been kept in the dark about? Nick pondered.
Andy’s eyes were snapping with ire. “I don’t like what you’re implying! I would never jeopardize a client’s money or my reputation. I bet you make a lot of enemies in your line of work. Are you one hundred percent positive it wasn’t something on your end?”
Something disturbing flitted across Gualtierro’s face, and his nostrils twitched.
Careful, Andy boy. The beast doesn’t like to be poked…Nick subtly shifted away. He knew his uncle well enough to understand that he had a strategy in play. The dipshit hadn’t even noticed that Benito was steadily shifting closer to him. Swear to God this wire better be working, Nick thought.
“I didn’t mean to offend you,” Andy backpedaled.
“But you did,” Barerra pointed out.
He finally noticed the bodyguard’s proximity and tried to escape, but Andy was too late. In a blur of movement, Benito grabbed him by the back of the neck and slammed him, face first, to the ground. The big man grabbed his arms and held them back, pressing a knee into Andy’s back to keep him down. Barrera produced a knife from the inside of his jacket.
“No! Please! I’ll do anything! I’m sorry!” Andy screeched. “Please don’t kill me!”
Fuck love. His ass was on the line.
“It might have been this chick I used to mess with! Her name’s Wynona Franklin! I ain’t seen or heard from her in a while! Maybe the bitch set something up! I don’t know shit except it wasn’t me! Please! I’m begging you not to kill me!”
Nick stood by the door, hypnotized as he watched the gleaming blade spinning effortlessly in his uncle’s hand. Gualtierro snatched the accountant by his hair, twisted it cruelly in a warning for Andy to keep still. The blade was kept in fine condition and sharp enough to slice a fly’s wings off in one swoop. Yet, his uncle took his time, meticulously carving Andy’s flesh as he screamed and blubbered incoherently and blood poured from the wound.
