La Carnicera

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La Carnicera Page 6

by Olson, Yolanda


  That’s all it took to make me strong.

  The love from my new father, who swore an oath to protect me and had some of his men get rid of what was left of Pedro. Except for his head, I never could figure out what happened to it, but that was revealed later when I walked into Tati’s room.

  It’s when I promised to keep her secret.

  It was when I also made an oath that night to God on my knees as I prayed for my new family to make me big enough one day to be able to protect my father too.

  Of course, all roads eventually lead back home, no matter how far away you manage to stray.

  “Princesa!”

  I stop walking when I hear the little girl's voice who was so damn happy to be seen and turn to glance at her over my shoulder.

  I smile and crouch down when I see her running toward me, a big smile on her face, and all of the stars that light the universe inside of her eyes.

  She holds out a bottle of cold water to me.

  “Habla Ingles?” I ask her as I take it from her hand.

  She nods as she gestures with her hand that she does a little bit.

  “You are the princess, not me,” I say to her as I reach forward and push a stray hair behind her ear. “Thank you for the present, Your Highness.”

  Her smile widens, and her eyes light up even more than I thought possible. Balancing the bottle on my knee, I reach into my bra, pull out one hundred pesos, press it into her hand, and fold it back.

  “And that’s for you being kind, okay? Our secret.”

  She rushes forward and hugs me tightly, and I chuckle as I rub her back quickly, watching the water bottle falloff my leg roll and toward the wall next to us.

  “Gracias!” she says happily as she turns and runs back to the store.

  I reach over for the bottle and get to my feet, intent on staying where I am until she’s safely inside.

  And once she is, I turn my back and continue walking through a place that’s so familiar and yet unknown to me all at the same time.

  * * *

  This is where I belong.

  I suck my teeth as I toss the now empty bottle into a dumpster by the side of the road.

  The streets are becoming more questionable. The stench of death and drugs is becoming thick in the air, and I’m reminded even more now that I’m finally home.

  One of the streets, though I don’t quite remember which, will take me back to the place where it happened.

  Stay safe.

  Papa’s hope for his beloved daughter rings through my ears again, and I sigh. Being the daughter of El Señor makes me feel invincible sometimes but knowing that I’m really the daughter of Nicolás and Carmen De la Cruz continues to chisel a chink into the armor I’ve worn day in and day out since then.

  I run a hand irritably over my face as I turn and walk in the other direction.

  Revenge will be mine one day, and while I revel in the knowledge, I can’t betray my father’s trust.

  * * *

  After hanging up with Papa for about the hundredth time on my day out, I find myself in downtown Culiacán. I know that somewhere around here is the place I’m looking for.

  Once residing in Navolato, it was pushed out by Papa’s men, and then they set up in a new town hoping for more clients and possibly no new cartel bosses to drive them out.

  It’ll be easier for me when I find it, anyway. No one inside will dare tell my father they saw me, because he wouldn’t believe them regardless.

  And anyone who lies to El Señor usually ends up with their tongues cut out of their heads.

  One of my favorite things to do, I think as I keep my eyes on the numerous door signs I walk by.

  As I get to the next crosswalk, I put my hands in my pockets and wait patiently for the light to change when I glance toward the left.

  Down the street, three buildings in, I finally see the sign I was looking for. A chance to be Ana Sofia De la Cruz and not La Carnicera is just a few yards away.

  Chapter Ten

  I sit on a stool near the bar.

  While the choices available in a place like this one are endless, I like to spend time having a drink or two and watching for any new merchandise I may have not seen before. Because that’s what they are; stock, ready to be used for a fair price and then put back on their proverbial shelves until the next person comes along. It may seem harsh, but these women know what they’ve signed up for and it’s on them to feel badly about their choices—not me.

  When I first started coming here, I was worried someone would recognize me and turn me into Papa. He doesn’t know about this side of me because I’m afraid that he'll disown me if he finds out. His daughters are his pride, and we should be able to carry on his name, but no matter how much I’ve thought about it, I doubt that I would ever be able to find satisfaction in having a man inside of me. I’m not opposed to it; I’m just not overly fond of it.

  Besides, Tati’s had more cocks inside of her than there are stars in a moonlit sky, so I’m sure she’ll have no problem giving him a grandchild. She hides that from him like she hides my aversion to the opposite sex, and these are the secrets that we keep like good sisters tend to do.

  “Buenos dias,” a male voice says cheerfully next to me. I cringe at the broken Spanish, which he must think is so fucking charming, before I arch an eyebrow.

  With a sigh, I take my beer bottle from the bartender, then swivel in my stool to see who’s attempting to waste my fucking time.

  “Can I help you?” I ask the young man gruffly. As I suspected, he’s not from around here and doesn’t understand the dangerous line he walks around at any given moment. And if he does, he clearly doesn’t give a fuck.

  Probably another gringo pendejo tourist trying to get lucky with local pussy. They love to go back and brag to their friends about how many of us they managed to fuck on their trust fund money vacations.

  And as I peer a little closer at him, I guess that he’s around Tati’s age.

  “Frank,” he says, holding a hand out toward me. I look down for a moment, taking in the curves of his fingers, the lines that were clearly created by being a motherfucker like me, and the myriad of tattoos trying to hide his secrets. A habit that has served me well in the past, regardless of how odd people treat me afterward.

  “Sofi,” I finally reply, taking his hand and giving it a firm shake.

  “And what brings you to a place like this?” he asks as he leans back and rests his elbows on the bar top.

  “Same thing as you, I would imagine,” I retort with an eye roll.

  “I figured, but I didn’t want to assume,” he states with a chuckle.

  I shrug.

  Nothing this gringo has to say to me will take me out of the mood I was in when I walked in here. I’m much too busy looking for a meal to enjoy, and I won’t leave until I find one.

  I go back to sipping my beer and looking at the women so desperate for a man’s attention that when he nudges me with his elbow, I jump slightly.

  “What about that one?” he asks me, nodding in the direction of a petite young woman riddled with more tattoos than I have.

  Her hair is neatly pulled back into two small topknots. The red on her lips makes the plumpness of them stand out, and the way she sways her hips when she walks tells me she’d be willing to sell herself to anyone in the room.

  “What about her?” I inquire after I tear my eyes away from her.

  “Looks like she could be a wild fuck,” he remarks as a grin begins to spread over his lips.

  I take a deep breath and look from head to toe at my new, unwelcome friend.

  His black hair is cut shaggily, the light blue pools of ice that he’s returning my curious look through are wide. They betray the innocence he’s attempting to portray because I can see the demons swimming in them. The pale complexion of his skin marred by so many bright, elaborate designs … this man doesn’t belong in Navolato. Hell, I don’t think he even belongs on this fucking planet.

  H
e’s playing with monsters that are much too strong for him to withstand, as is evident by the way he keeps rubbing the bridge of his nose, and that tells me one thing.

  He’d make one hell of a customer for Papa or maybe even a runner.

  Or…

  “So, have her,” I say to him as I suck my teeth. I reach into my bra and pull out a wad of bills. Licking my thumb, I count out one hundred pesos and toss it on the bar top next to his elbow.

  With a laugh, he takes the money and pushes away from the bar, “I have a better idea. And I’ll get us a better price. Wait here.”

  Us?

  I blanch at his choice of words.

  What the fuck does he mean by “us”?

  I haven’t known him for more than ten minutes, have already done my best to get rid of him by giving him the money to purchase the girl he has his eyes on, and he thinks that there will be more?

  I take another swig of my beer. Turning in my stool, I place the empty bottle down, waving the bartender over.

  “Want another?” he asks me, and I shake my head.

  I place twenty pesos on the bar top and roll my neck on my shoulders. “Stay here. Watch that gringo and tell me every move he makes,” I tell him in a low, threatening tone.

  He nods because he’s afraid of me like most men are, though sometimes I think it’s more that they’re scared of what Papa can have done to them instead. Because while most people shouldn’t know who I am in a place like this, I have no doubt that damn near everyone does.

  The shock for these penedejos usually comes when they realize that I’m El Señor’s best kept and deadliest secret outside of the narco-traffickers world. It’s not something I boast about because that’s unbecoming, but sometimes a situation can only be handled by letting them know that they’re looking into the face of death.

  I lower my eyes to my hands and begin to pick at my nail bed. It’s a nervous tick I’ve had since childhood. It’s not that the gringo makes me nervous; it's more wondering what Papa would think of me if I killed this pain in the ass without his blessing.

  “Ahí viene,” the bartender warns me under his breath, tapping the side of my arm and eliciting a grunt from me. Glancing over my shoulder, I see that the nuisance is indeed approaching with the girl that caught his eye, with their arms linked, and a smirk on his face.

  “I thought you would have left by now,” I say when he’s within earshot. She’s of no consequence to me, so I keep my eyes on him as I turn on my stool and lean back against the bar again.

  “Not yet,” he says, the smirk on his lips widening slightly. “This is Daniela.” I nod at her and do my best not to roll my eyes when she rests her hand against his chest. The whores in this place work a little too hard at making everyone feel like they’re the only one for them. “And this is Sofi,” he says to her.

  Daniela gives me a tight smile, and I suck my teeth.

  “And?” I say to him as I give her a level stare. “What’s she got to do with me?”

  “Not ‘me’,” he corrects with a chuckle, “us.”

  I begin to grind my teeth as the feeling of irritation begins to settle over me again.

  If I have to tell him that there is no us, I’ll break one of Papa’s rules, which is no violence unless he condones it.

  So instead, I jut my chin out at him and wait as patiently as I can for him to continue.

  “Anyway,” he continues as he holds a hand out toward me, “Daniela has a twin sister who works here too. Interested?”

  I glance down at the shoes he’s wearing—something I should have done right away—before I let out a sigh and decide that maybe indulging his wild little fantasy of his would be a good way to pass the time.

  But there will be stipulations to this and if he doesn’t agree to them, then he can have the whores all to himself.

  Chapter Eleven

  I don’t know if it’s his arrogance that made me agree to this or the way he seems to enjoy making me feel uncomfortable, but somehow, I manage to find myself on a bed between Daniela and Inez.

  The more timid one of the sisters has long, blonde hair that’s been bleached to hell and back. Her lips aren’t as plump as Daniela’s, but her ass is thicker, so I think she made out better. While her sister’s lips are made for sucking cock, her ass is made for getting used and abused.

  Silver-tongued bastard, I think as I look at the seemingly professional women on either side of me. Fuck knows how long they’ve worked here, but it’s the first time I’ve seen them, and I’m damn determined to make sure they remember me before I’m done.

  The bargain we made before stepping into this room was simple enough. He doesn’t get to join us—he only gets to watch, and if he tries to take any shitty little cellphone videos, he forfeits his balls.

  And the fact that he managed to get two pussies for half the price I gave him tells me that he’d be valuable in Papa’s organization. Of course, I wouldn’t know how to present him because my father would want to know how the hell I came across a man like this, but I’m sure I’d be able to figure something out.

  Maybe I’ll give him a recommendation.

  I reach back and spin my hair in my fist until I’m able to wrap it neatly and tightly behind my head. Once it’s secured, I get to my knees on the bed and motion for the twins to do the same.

  “You’re mine to use now,” I say, turning my face from one to the other, “and you’re going to make sure every penny that has been spent between you is well-earned.”

  The scrape of a chair against the old wooden floor draws my attention away from them long enough to see the gringo settling down directly in front of the bed.

  “Are you going to direct?” I ask him with a smirk.

  “Oh, you wouldn’t be able to handle it if I do,” he replies with a laugh as he rubs his hands together, then leans back in his chair.

  I roll my eyes as I turn them toward Inez. She’s watching him with more interest than me, and that won’t fucking do.

  “Hey,” I bark at her, grabbing her roughly by the chin and turning her face toward me. “He’s not here to play, pendeja.”

  She gives me a little girl pout that has probably worked on many men before, but I don’t fall for the bullshit, and she’s going to learn that sooner rather than later.

  The chair creaks again, and out of the corner of my eye, I can see him getting comfortable. He’s ready for the show, and I guess it’s about time we gave him one.

  I run a finger down the side of Inez’s body, tracing every curve, every little bump, all the way down to her thigh, and arching an eyebrow at her when she takes in a shaky breath.

  “Y tu?” I ask Daniela as I repeat the gesture against her skin. But she’s a lot less shy than her sister.

  Before I have a chance to even trail her hip, she takes my finger into her mouth and makes a show of licking it.

  I lick my lips and grin, turning my eyes toward the gringo, who already looks like he wants to break the rules and climb on the bed with us.

  “Pretend it’s his cock,” I tell her as I shove another finger into her mouth. He runs his hand back through his hair as he leans forward in his chair. I take the opportunity to show him that he’s not in charge of this situation and begin to thrust my fingers. Daniela gags at first, but that only makes me shove them deeper down her throat.

  Inez, to my surprise, doesn’t seem to want to be outshined because she takes my other hand and sucks my fingers into her mouth.

  My eyes are on him while they try to out suck each other. I tilt my head to the side, and when his eyes begin to roam from the pitiful putas toward me, I grin.

  “How’s that feel?” I ask them as I look him right in the eye. “Would it feel better with a cock instead?”

  Both girls nod simultaneously as they continue choking themselves on my fingers, and I chuckle.

  “Show them what you’ve got, but …” I take a moment to lean over and lick Inez’s neck, “keep it to yourself,” I finish in a low, sedu
ctive tone.

  El Gringo leans back in his chair and extends a leg in front of him as he unzips his jeans. Reaching into the fly, he gives his dick a tug before he pulls it through and shows us that he’s damn near hard already.

  I’m honestly impressed by the length and girth. It makes me wonder how he can walk straight, but the longer I watch him tug on his dick, the more I realize that I’m neglecting my girls.

  I turn my eyes toward Daniela and shove my hand into her mouth viciously. She coughs, gags, and damn near throws up, but she manages to keep her composure after quickly rubbing her throat.

  “Look at what he’s got,” I whisper hotly into her ear. “Do you want to play with that, or do you want to play with me?”

  El Gringo chuckles. The sound is thick and amused. I think he knows that I’m showing him that no matter how big his dick actually is, mine will always be bigger.

  “Both,” she manages to croak out, and I laugh as I shove her away.

  “Puta. He’s not here for you.” I turn to face Inez, wrap a slick hand around her throat, and squeeze as I continue to fuck her mouth with my fingers. “Or you.”

  “Are you ready?” I ask, leaning my head against the gagging girl’s cheek.

  He nods as he lets go of his dick, and I smirk. He’s hard, ready for a little action—and I can’t wait to deprive him of it.

  Chapter Twelve

  Daniela lets out a gasp as I push her legs open and use the tip of my finger to circle her clit.

  “Shut her up,” I tell Inez sharply.

  “How?” she asks in confusion.

  I arch an eyebrow, flick my tongue at her, then nod toward her sister’s face.

  “But—”

  “Now,” I snarl at her. “Or I’ll let him have his way with you instead.” I jerk my head toward our voyeur, who lets out a low laugh but doesn’t add to my threat.

  Something about this man tells me that he’s neither gentle nor kind when he wants to fuck, and what he could do to her would be far worse than getting her pussy licked by her twin.

 

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