The man of the house is sitting at the head of the table, his daughter at the other. Across from me are three serious looking men with their holsters on display, and on either side of me are Raiza and another one of his boogey men.
No one has said a fucking thing except “please” and “thank you” to the line of help that’s entered the room. I smile up at the maid from earlier and she returns the gesture, then shakes her head fondly.
Clearly she knows what’s going on right now, because it’s always the butler that did it, right?
At least that’s how it is in the movies, which I would prefer right now cause there would be a narrator somewhere telling me what the fuck is about to happen.
Or maybe even what happened on the entire day I lost. I think I would prefer that better.
I glance around the table, then down at my plate when I realize that all eyes are on me. I don’t know if he said anything that I wasn’t paying attention to, so I decide to fold my hands, make a little steeple, lower my eyes, and say a prayer.
Even if I’m not particularly religious, I assume that a blessing isn’t out of order. And when I glance up at everyone and see that they’ve followed suit. I breathe a sigh of relief as we all say, “Amen.”
Sometimes, my common sense eludes me, but when I’m in life or death situations, I’m more aware of what needs to be done.
Regardless of whether I’m making a lucky guess or not.
But as soon as everyone is given the go ahead to start filling their plates with grub, I find myself hesitating. I’m not entirely sure this is a good idea, and the longer I sit here without moving, the more aware I am of the eyes starting to linger on me.
“Not hungry?” the boss man asks me as he reaches for an empty glass. The maid I’m quickly becoming fond of shows up out of nowhere and fills it with wine. I tilt my head to the side, reach for my glass, and smile when she comes over and fills it up for me.
“Thanks,” I tell her with a smile as I set it down. “I’m not a fan of wine, though.”
The head of this little murder cult chuckles before he takes a sip, then sets his glass down.
“You shouldn’t ask for things you don’t want. That’s a waste and it’s not something I tolerate.”
“Hey, I didn’t as—”
A snap of his fingers and next thing I know, I’m on my back with my legs in the air. I feel like a chick being dominated, but the only reason I’m down right now is because I didn’t see it coming.
I chuckle as I look up into the eyes of the bulldog that dropped me and let out a pained breath as he places his knee into my chest to hold me in place.
Between this and the pressure of the fucking chair pushing back against me, I’m pretty sure that I’m gonna end up either shitting my pants or exploding soon.
With a sigh, I suck my teeth.
Crack!
He lets out a howl of pain as he falls to his side, and I grin as I push myself off the chair and onto my feet.
“That,” I begin as I pick up the chair and lower it roughly against him, firmly pinning him down so that he stops rolling on the ground like a little bitch, “is why you don’t do silly things like that.”
I run a hand back through my hair then cross my arms over the back of the chair as I glance over at El Jefe, El Señor, El I Have More Money Than You’ll Ever See, or whoever the fuck he is right now, and raise an eyebrow, “Is this how all of your dinner parties start?”
When he reaches for his glass and doesn’t say anything, I turn my attention back toward the bulldog. I can see the newly broken ankle bone protruding through his skin, and I shake my head with a laugh.
“Here, let me see if I can fix that.”
Standing up, I grab the back of the chair and grip onto it tightly so that I can put all of my force into stomping on it. He lets out another howl as another cracking sound echoes throughout the room and I grin at him.
“That didn’t work. Maybe this will?”
I turn and quickly grab the first knife I see then drop to my knees next to him. I decide to extend him the same courtesy he did me and make sure I have one knee pinning his leg down instead of his chest, because after all, that’s where I need to set my focus.
I bring the blade back over my head, then bring it down with every ounce of strength I can muster and plant it firmly above his ankle.
He screams again and I’m amused.
No one has made a move to stop me.
No one has made a move to help him.
I guess loyalties aren’t as popular as they should be among these guys, but it works in my favor, so I don’t really give a fuck.
I drop down to my ass and grab the handle with both hands. As well as I can, anyway, since I managed to bury the fucking thing in almost to the hilt.
“And this is where the fun starts!” I announce to him with an even bigger grin.
I pull the handle to the side instead of out. I grunt as the labor of having to put more power behind it than I thought it would takes over me, and a bead of sweat trails down the side of my face.
That’s not enough to get me to back down. Nothing ever is. Not until I’m done with what I’ve set my mind to, although some things aren’t worth as much trouble as they seem. I can be nice when I reach that line of thinking, teetering somewhere between normal and not so normal.
I actually think it’s a charming trait, although most see it as psychopathic. Of course, those people never really live long enough to tell those tales about me.
Taking a deep breath, I let one of my hands drop away from the handle and use it to slap it down as hard as I can. This goddamn thing is so dull that it stops when it scratches against the bone.
“Ah well. Maybe next time,” I tell him with a shrug as I get to my feet and pick up my chair. After placing it back in its original position at the table, I reach for the basket of bread.
Maybe a little something to eat will do me some good after all.
Chapter Five
The rest of dinner isn’t as eventful as the foreplay. Everyone else at the table eats in silence, with the occasional and intriguingly polite requests for a little bit of this or that, and no one else looks at me for the duration.
Except for her.
I catch her stealing glances at me more than once, and I’m damn sure it’s because she doesn’t want me to spill her secret to her Pops.
When dinner is over and the maid brigade comes to clear the table, I lean back in my chair, grab the glass of wine, and stare at her over the rim as I take a sip. Smacking my lips together before setting it back down again gets her attention long enough and she scowls when our eyes meet.
“Ana Sofia, stay where you are,” Pops says to her thoughtfully. Everyone else gets to their feet to leave and I stand up to follow suit, but he stops me before I have the chance to even straighten up. “You too; stay where you are.”
I shrug and reach for the glass again, continuing to eye-fuck his daughter as he gets up, buttons his fancy suit jacket, and walks over to the door to shake hands with all the men who are walking out.
I turn around briefly just in time to see Raiza get to him. She holds out her hand expecting the same treatment, but instead he looks down at her hand and growls something under his breath at her.
She lowers her head and hand immediately and skitters out of the room, tail firmly tucked between her legs.
Something is definitely up with the dolly and I want the details.
He clears his throat as he goes back to sit down at the head of the table again and unbuttons his jacket.
Once he’s nice and comfy, he rests an elbow on the table and looks at his daughter. It’s only now dawning on me that she lied to me about her name.
Maybe she really did want me to fuck off, I think as I rub the back of my neck.
“Tell me what’s really going on here,” he says to her in an even tone. “Drinks in a bar? That’s nothing to hold a grudge over for a year. La verdad, Ana Sofia,” he warns her as he dro
ps his hand and begins to drum his fingers along the tabletop.
I give her my undivided attention.
He wants the truth and I’m curious to see if she’ll be able to give it to him, or if she’s going to keep up her ruse.
When she looks like she’s about to have a panic attack, I chuckle and speak up, “Alright, can I tell the real story now?”
His eyes turn slowly toward me as he nods and waits.
“It wasn’t entirely a fabrication. We did have drinks, but not at a bar. It was at a brothel. And I guess you can say that I wasn’t feeling any pain that day. She bought me some entertainment and there was a proposition to watch. That’s really the long and short of it.”
He looks at his daughter again and arches an eyebrow, “Is he telling me the truth?”
“He could answer that if you just asked him,” I grumble as I cross my arms over my chest and slouch in my chair.
“Ana Sofia,” Pops says sharply, eliciting a deep breath from her.
“Yes, Papa. That’s why it took me so long to come home that day. I knew you wouldn’t approve of me being in a place like that, so I didn’t tell you. I’m sorry.”
He inhales deeply, then exhales as his eyes drift between me and Ana Sofia.
Which reminds me.
“You told me your name was Sofi,” I mutter, glancing up at her and giving her a cold stare.
“That’s what my friends call me,” she replies softly.
I instantly feel like an asshole.
Maybe she didn’t want me to fuck off after all.
Honestly, at this point in the evening, I’m so fucking confused that I don’t know what to believe.
“And he’s your friend?” Pops pipes up curiously. We both look over at him and that’s when I realize that this is turning into a set-up of some kind.
She nods as she crosses her arms loosely over her chest and bites down on her trembling lower lip.
For someone that found it so easy to fuck two girls into oblivion in front of a total stranger, it amazes me that she’s so damn fragile in front of her father.
“She’s not normally like this,” he begins conversationally. It’s like he plucked the last thought out of my mind and it makes me uncomfortable. “Her sister was who we buried. They were very close and now she’s alone. Or at least she was.”
Huh.
“See, I figure that since you two are such good friends, and you were so willing to carry this weight on your shoulders for a year. The fact that you are so quick to violence and seem to have a good time with it … well … I think you’d be a perfect match for my daughter. Provided you survive your training and prove yourself, that is.”
The horror of what he just said hits me harder than a line of blow. I glance at Sofi who looks as equally horrified as I am, and he chuckles when he realizes that neither of us are feeling particularly keen on taking him up on the offer.
“What’s your name, Gringo?”
“Frank.”
He continues to stare at me, and I sigh.
“Larson. Frank Larson.”
“You know how I know you aren’t DEA?” he asks, leaning toward me, his eyes becoming dark.
Well, that took a different turn.
“Enlighten me,” I say, trying to cheer everyone up, but Sofi manages to kick my foot under the table, and I clear my throat. “Sorry, I don’t do good in tense situations. But if you don’t mind telling me, I’d be interested in knowing.”
“Because you wouldn’t have killed Javier. You wouldn’t have broken Santiago’s ankle. And you sure as fuck wouldn’t have the balls to sit at my table with that stupid ass, smug look on your face all night.”
I purse my lips and nod.
I’m struggling to act like he’s told me a revelation that hasn’t already occurred to me, because this entire fucking situation is becoming hairier than a donkey’s balls, and I don’t like it.
“I’m not a bad man,” he continues, as his eyes begin to lose focus.
It almost feels like he’s talking more to himself than me at this point, and I’m kind of hoping I can make a getaway somehow.
“But I had to bury my daughter and that’s not something that should have happened. Until I can find a way to cope without seeing her again, I’m going to leave you to Sofi. She’ll train you and if you impress the both of us, you’ll earn her hand and my respect. People will fear you. They’ll know your name. And if you ask me, there are no greater honors than the ones you’ve been offered.”
I know the look on my face is one of incredulity, but I know that I can’t tell him why the shotgun wedding he has planned isn’t going to happen.
“How did she die?” I ask him quietly.
He chuckles, shakes his head, and looks at Sofi. “Show him where he’ll be staying.”
Without another word, he gets up from his chair, the realization that his daughter is dead hitting him all over again, and he walks out with the weight of the world on his shoulders.
I watch Sofi’s hips sway in the dimly lit hallways as she leads me to God knows where. Honestly, it could be to my death and I wouldn’t even realize it until the last minute because I’m so goddamn hypnotized by the way her body moves.
By all rights, she should be mine.
I feel like I’m owed her after being made to watch her fuck those twins. I could have moved on them and they never would have known it. It would have been glorious, but I guess being able to do a line of blow off her succulent ass was better than nothing at all.
I take a deep breath and let it out. When she glances at me over her shoulder and scowls, I realize that she’s noticed that I’m staring at her ass. What I don’t know is if she has the slightest inkling as to why.
What sucks is that the only way I might be able to convince her to fool around is by getting her back to Culiacán, and I doubt her father is going to let that happen anytime soon.
I snicker as I fall into step beside her and reach for her hand. When she slaps mine away, I tsk, tsk at her and grin, “Is that any way to treat your soon-to-be hubby?”
“Listen, cabrón,” she hisses as she turns to face me and shoves me away. I stumble slightly but manage to maintain my balance and laugh as she continues. “This dream that my father has is only because my sister is dead. But if you cross me in any way, I’ll make sure that his dream is your fucking nightmare. Now keep your goddamn hands off me if you want to keep them.”
“Ooh,” I say with a grin as I hold my hands up in surrender. “Guess that’s a good idea. Wouldn’t want to damage those goods before it’s our wedding night, you know? Also, would you be Ana Sofia Larson? Or Ana Sofia … um … what’s your last name?”
“De la Cruz.”
“De la Cruz-Larson?” I press, knowing that she’ll never be in the mood for my sometimes overly social personality. I just like to have a good time, and since I’m in a situation that I know will more than likely be the death of me, I may as well have some fun first.
Her body goes rigid and she grits her teeth before she turns on her heel and keeps walking. It’s good to know that she’s still the same hard-ass that she was last year.
Apparently, the little girl front she puts on for her father is just that and nothing more.
She stops walking suddenly and pushes a door on her right open, “Get into your cage, animal.”
I tilt my head and smile at her.
I think it’s endearing that she’s trying so hard to scare me while not knowing just how much of an “animal” I can really be.
“Tuck me in?” I tease her with a pout.
She rolls her eyes and leans against the open doorframe. When she crosses her legs at the ankles, I chuckle and stroll in past her.
“Can I ask you something?”
“What?” she snaps.
I sigh, “You can stop the badass routine, Sofi. You don’t scare me, and the chances that you think you ever can are exponentially higher than the chance of you achieving it.”
I walk
over to the bed, sit down, and begin to pull my sneakers off.
“Well?” she asks, testily.
“Huh? Oh, I was wondering how your sister died.”
She blanches and as I set my sneakers down on the carpet, I roll my shoulders. I didn’t realize how fucking sore I was from having dinner with these people until I finally got the chance to relax.
“My sister,” she begins as she straightens up and points a finger at me from the safety of the doorway. “is none of your fucking business.”
“Didn’t say she was,” I respond, scratching my chin. “I only asked how she died. I was being sincere too. In case you haven’t gathered yet, I’m going to be around for a while, so we may as well try to get along.”
“You know what? You’re right. Here’s a little present from me to you.”
She pulls something out of her pocket, flings it across the room at me, and when it hits my chest, I begin to sweat. She chuckles when she notices, then turns and walks out of the room, locking the door firmly behind her.
I reach down and pick up the small bag of white powder that landed between my feet and take a deep breath.
I shake it gently and do my best to will my hands to stop shaking. I’ve been so fucking good these past few months, and even though the craving is there, I’ve managed to keep it at bay with the last little baggie I bought. I keep the goddamn thing where I can see it, toss it around the room when I feel like it may be stronger than I am, and so far, I’ve won each and every time.
But now I have a choice to make.
Stay on the straight and narrow, or cave and be the man her father thinks I can be.
Unfortunately for me, I don’t know which fucking way the night will lead me.
Chapter Six
I wake up the next morning feeling like I’ve been run over. I’m curled up in a ball, the blanket somewhere on the fucking floor, and I have to muster the will of a thousand men just to open my goddamn eyes.
I roll onto my back and lay an arm across my face. I don’t know what time it is—other than time for me to be getting the fuck out of this room, but I kind of don’t want to either.
El Gringo (The Sicarios of Navolato Book 3) Page 4