Carlos: A Zambrano Family Novel

by Deici, Olivia

  “Wait. I've been meaning to ask again, but haven't wanted to stir bad emotions. How are things going with your father?”

  She shrugged. “Slowly. Very slowly. I speak to Marcelo every day.” She smiled. “It's almost like old times. As if we had never been apart. He tells me about him but doesn’t push. He only says that my father wants to see me, reunite, but that he understands my hesitance. He says he's willing to wait however long I need to take.”

  I reached out and rubbed her shoulder. “Some progress then.”

  Her smile was small and she nodded. “I can't completely forget what happened even if it was all the scheming of a deranged lunatic. I'm willing to try, but I can't easily erase the feelings that have been with me for so long, overnight.”

  I nodded, and smiled encouragingly.

  The morning flew by and our men showed up with their brothers. Marco brought Ari, who looked like she was having the time of her life.

  I couldn't help but look at the way Carlos interacted with the children. I'd seen him with Ari before, and he was an amazing uncle, but it was good to know that he enjoyed all children not just those blood-related.

  He caught me a few times watching him, and I couldn't help but smile.

  I was so damn lucky. Literally, my life had changed drastically in the last six months.

  And I couldn't have been happier.

  We all took a break at noon and played with the children and interacted with the families.

  By the time 4:00 PM rolled around, things had quieted some. I didn't feel as guilty leaving Iza. We hugged goodbye and I promised to call her once I received my BFP- bonafide positive.

  On my way to the office, I felt like I was being followed again.

  Had Carlos really put security on me? I picked up my phone to call and ask, but some asshole cut me off and my hand punched down on my horn, and didn't lift for the required minute to get my anger and point across.

  It was an unwritten South Florida rule for driving- you had to honk if you were huffy.

  Once I was in my office, everything faded back and I was immersed in my work.

  53

  Carlos

  “Tell. Me. What. I. Want. To. Know.”

  The bastard spit towards me but it landed just short of my feet.

  We were in our remote location at the port, where we interrogated those who needed persuading. It made it easier to rid ourselves of them afterwards. We’d literally send them to sleep with the fishes.

  Or whatever fuck else swam in these waters.

  My brothers and my father were here. It wasn't just me and Cari affected. We found out more than we expected. Bautista, the newer employee, was involved.

  And so was my other employee, Pedro, who was sitting next to him.

  My yacht steward had hired Pedro and Pedro had recommended the other bastard.

  Every piece of information that came back showed that these two assholes had texted our coordinates while we were on Alma.

  I'd read the text messages. We'd gotten them from the cell company. Since Alma was typically out at sea, ordinary burner phones weren't something they could easily use. They'd been forced to buy unlocked phones and SIM cards.

  In other words, traceable forms of communication.

  These two had planned to take Cari and me. There had been no mention of what they’d intended to do to me, but for Cari, they'd wanted to sell her and force her into the slave trade.

  Needless to say, when I found out what they'd intended for Cari, I lost my shit.

  It took all of my brothers and Shadow to calm me the fuck down.

  What had been odd, something we noticed when I'd calmed down, was the way the texts had been phrased by whomever they'd been texting with. One of their incoming texts had read: “Keep her pretty. Another one who’d make bank.”

  What the fuck had that meant- another one?

  They were engaging in sex trafficking?

  Listen, my family and I weren't saints- but my father had always maintained solid lines- no drugs, and no skin- and that included prostitution and exploitation in all of its many, abhorrent forms.

  Period.

  If sex trafficking was happening in our city, it would be stopped.

  The offender would be terminated.

  I pulled Pedro by the hair. “Who recruited you? Who’s your boss?”

  The sweet smell of the cigar my father smoked permeated the air.

  “Wasting your time. I tell you anything, and my family dies.”

  I tugged on his head until the sound of him breathing became labored.

  “If you don't tell me, I'll kill your family and make them suffer.”

  It's not something I ever envisioned myself doing, but for Cari’s safety, all options were on the table.

  My other hand closed around his jaw and squeezed until tears ran down his eyes and he was screaming.

  I may be the calmest of my brothers, but my temper was the worst once unleashed.

  And it was very much unleashed at this moment.

  These motherfuckers and whoever they worked for, were planning against my family.

  My woman.

  I didn't give a fuck about their intentions to kill me or whatever they’d planned for me.

  Get in line.

  A Zambrano had hundreds of enemies.

  But my woman?

  That right there was the death sentence for them. And I’d do anything to protect her.

  Anything.

  My father walked over to Bautista, took his gun, and shoved it into his mouth and down his throat. He started gagging.

  “You will tell us. Now. The first who speaks, gets a quick death.”

  I let Pedro’s jaw go, as Pop took his gun out of Bautista’s mouth.

  “They said they'd do to my family what they did to his wife. Fuck no!”

  Oh.

  Fuck.

  We looked at Marco, and Roman went to hold him back but Marco waved him off, not missing a step. He leaned over Pedro.

  “What do you know about my wife’s murder?”

  Pedro was trembling all over. His breathing was erratic, and his eyes were wide.

  “Fucking demonio!”

  “You want to see what a demon looks like?”

  Before any one of us could stop him, Marco took both his fists and slammed them into Pedro’s face. Blood splattered, and his nose had a horrible break.

  “I will take my knife and peel each layer of your skin off, dousing it with alcohol in between. Each and every one of your teeth will be pulled out with my pliers. And if still, that doesn't motivate you, I will rip every fucking nail off your fingers and toes. If by then you don't speak, I'm cutting your dick off and forcing you to eat it.”

  Pedro yelled. “He's a fucking maniac! You twisted sick fuck!”

  Marco slammed his fist into his face again.

  “We don't know their names or about her death!” Bautista screamed. “Nothing. We were just told money would be left for us on prepaid credit cards. All we had to do was give them information. That's it.”

  I walked over to him, and my hand squeezed his neck.

  “How did they approach you?”

  “I was only told by Pedro. That's all I know.”

  Marco grabbed a cigar cutter, and placed one of Pedro’s fingers through it.

  “One shot to tell us.”

  “Fuck. You.”

  “Wrong answer,” Marco growled, and cut off the first joint. Pedro screamed. Marco took another finger and inserted it into the mini guillotine.

  “Who approached you?”

  “A fucking mess of people!” His voice was desperate. “Latino, Italian, and Russian.”

  “Their names!” I yelled in his face.

  “I didn't get any,” Pedro cried.

  “What did they look like?”

  “They ordered me to put a sack over my head!”

  Diego came over. “Then how the fuck do you know what nationalities they were!”

  He di
dn't expect that from Diego, who’d mostly stayed quiet until now.

  “Their accents. I heard them speak once.”

  He moaned, biting his lips

  Fucking pathetic.

  “How were you told what to do then?” I snapped.

  “We were left a phone. Everything was by text. Everything was in English.”

  “Tell me about that night.”

  “What night?”

  I pulled his head back again and gripped my knife. Slowly, I cut line from his ear to his mouth.

  “TELL ME!”

  Pedro bellowed from the pain.

  “We got a t-text. It asked for c-coordinates. I s-sent them. And when you left on the boat with h-her, I sent more information, too.”

  He was fully crying now. Bautista was hysterical.

  “We’re done here,” Pop said, finishing his cigar and putting it out in Pedro’s eye. The man’s screams echoed. He grabbed his gun again, shoved it down Pedro’s throat, who tried to choke out pleas.

  My father filled him with two bullets.

  Marco went over to Bautista, lifted his gun to his head, and shot him.

  “Fucking waste of time,” Diego said.

  “No, actually. We got some useful information,” Roman replied.

  “And that would be?” I asked, angry and frustrated as fuck.

  “There's no doubt that someone, or some are gunning for our family. And not just one segment, a mix of them. Whether officially condoned by a head, we don't know, but we know it's coming from more than one side.”

  “We can eliminate the Italians and the Colombians,” Pop said. “At least the heads. Whether there's an internal mutiny or coup, who also thinks to do the same to us, who knows.”

  Izzy’s and Cari’s families.

  “One thing is for certain,” Roman continued, all of our eyes on him.

  “They're gunning for us, our family, and our women. It's time to gun up. War is here.”

  54

  Cari

  “Come in.”

  There was a knock on my door, and it opened to show Luis.

  “I'm heading out. I updated what I could, but the whole system is down including the phones.”

  “What I don't get is why the phones?”

  “Our phones are VOIP. When the internet is down, so are they. That's why when you have a VOIP, you need a back-up plan.” He made a face and rolled his eyes. “Dr. Woodrow was in the middle of finding a new primary provider and back-up provider, but hasn't completed the contracts. Both services were always unreliable. If one was out, we’d need the other. As if to prove how unreliable they are, or to force him into making a decision, Murphy’s Law intervened- now both systems failed at the same time.”

  I sighed, shaking my head. “I’ve been writing notes so that I can update it in the computer when it's up. So the system and even the phones are down?”

  “Yea. Annoying as shit. Want me to lock up?”

  “Nah. I got it. Have one more thing and I'm gone.”

  Snickering, he said, “Heard that one before. Night.”

  Smirking, I responded, “Have a good evening.”

  My eyes returned to the box on the corner of my desk for the 1,578th time that day. As if on cue, my cell rang.

  My heart sped up when I saw the name.

  It was Lissette.

  “Hey you. So what is it?”

  She chortled. “Jesus, girl. Straight to the point.”

  She was making me sweat.

  I groaned.

  “Ok, ok! You sitting down, mommy?”

  “Yes…I…oh my God, so I am? I mean I felt it, and was sure, but the confirmation is priceless.”

  “Congratulations! Based on the last menstrual period and hCG levels, you're nearing three months along.”

  “Wow,” I breathed, taking it all in. I looked at my beautiful ring, also for the 3,497th time that day.

  “Congratulations on two counts. He proposed to me last evening. I'm getting married, too.”

  “No one deserves this more, Care. I'm so happy for you. Let's have lunch. Miss you.”

  “Not sure about lunch. You're the only one of my friends who’s seen my who-ha. That's weird.”

  “No. It’ll be totally normal and I don't think of those things when lunching with friends. Unless you insist on eating lunch on your back with your legs in stirrups, we’re good.”

  I chuckled. It was a running joke between us.

  “I'll have my office schedule you for a few weeks from today. Sound good?”

  “Yes. Thanks for the quick turnaround and attention.”

  “Hey. I'm not just your gynecologist, I'm your friend.”

  Laughing, I said, “That saying has the makings of a good bumper sticker or television commercial for your practice.”

  “Oh, stop,” she chuckled. “Night, mama.”

  “Night.”

  Mama? Mommy?

  Holy shit.

  I hung up and leaned back in my chair, palms resting on my abdomen, smiling.

  I couldn't believe the direction of my life. I never thought I'd have a husband, a child, a father, or brother.

  And here I was- with all four.

  My life couldn't be more perfect, except if my mother and Chris were here.

  I'd wanted to tell Carlos, my father, and Emiliano last night about the baby since we were all together for dinner, but I wanted the confirmation first. Plus, I kinda wanted to share that private moment with Carlos first.

  We were having a baby.

  Except for telling Iza this morning, and Lissette having done tests, no one else knew.

  Smiling and eager, I wrapped up my file, grabbed my present for Carlos, and opened my door, walking out.

  I rammed straight into a chest.

  Before my bounce backwards from the impact caused me to fall, one strong hand squeezed my upper arm, making me yelp.

  Looking up, struggling, Manny’s face came into focus. His cold eyes caused goosebumps on my arms. I looked down quickly and saw that he had on a CAM boot and was using a cane in one hand.

  Surprise lit my eyes as they looked up and met a hard, cruel twist to his lips.

  “You fucking cunt.”

  He shoved me back into my office, making me lose my balance and fall. My cell and the special box I had in my hands toppled over, and my head hit the wall.

  He closed the door and stood in front of it.

  “You have no fucking idea how long I've wanted to fuck you up for what you did to me.”

  He raised his cane and I lifted my arms in defense. He laughed as the stick struck my side. Manny looked quickly to where my box was. His eyes narrowed at the items that had spilled out onto the floor.

  “Pregnant?”

  “No!”

  Laughing, he snarled, “Right. Like you'd take the time to wrap a negative pregnancy test with newborn clothing.”

  “Fuck. You.”

  His face morphed from smugness to fury.

  “No. FUCK. YOU!”

  He raised the cane and destroyed my cell phone. He raised it again and hit the pregnancy test and onesie. Arching his arms once more, the cane came down hard on my head and shoulder. I cried out in pain but tried to wrestle it away. He aimed at my abdomen next but I twisted to the side to protect the area and the cane struck my upper back, feeling as if it left a path of fire on my skin. He quickly corrected, and he brought it down on my abdomen. I couldn’t move in time.

  “Oahhh.” My eyes were closed as I tried to get a grip on the pain. My hands rushed to my abdomen.

  My baby!

  His cackle was evil.

  I wanted to kill him.

  I hated him with every fiber of my being.

  But I had to protect the life inside me. He wouldn't take another life from me.

  He raised the damn cane again. Pissed, my anger overcame the pain and I reached, grabbing it, trying to pull it away. I managed to twist his hands, and he grunted and had to let it go. Being on the floor gave me a
small advantage, and I swung and hit his bad leg as hard as I could, making him yell. I hit him again, harder. He fell down this time. Using his cane to help me stand, I got on shaking legs. My whole body was going into shock from his assault.

  I wasn't going to let this motherfucker take me down, though.

  I wasn't going to let him overpower me.

  “What I did to you! You killed my mother, almost ruined my life, blackmailed me, and then you return here again to make me miserable!”

  It was more of a scream than a question. Rage shook me more than the shock of him shoving me.

  “You fucking killed my mother. You fucking asshole, I hate you!!”

  I hit him hard twice, just as my door opened.

  “Doc? I forgot my phone and had to return when I heard you scream.”

  Luis looked at Manny, who took the few seconds of surprise to his advantage and took his gun out, aiming it at me.

  I looked at Luis.

  “Call for help. Run!”

  Eyes wide, he looked back and forth from me to Manny. “I'm not leaving you alone!”

  Manny began standing, but had trouble since he had a gun in one hand- leaving him with only had one hand to help himself stand.

  “Go!”

  Luis turned to leave as Manny aimed for his head. I lifted the cane and brought it down hard on Manny’s arm managing to force it down. Unfortunately, he fired and the bullet went into Luis’ chest. Luis fell to the floor.

  “No!! Stop!”

  Manny turned to me with the gun still raised.

  “Give me my cane, or his head gets the next bullet.”

  With my shaky hand, I extended my arm and gave him the cane. He holstered his gun and swung his arm up and brought it down on Luis’ head.

  “No!”

  Luis was unconscious bleeding out on the floor of my office. Manny turned to me, smiling.

  “You're going to pay for all this shit.”

  “Let me help him.” I moved towards Luis, but Manny brought his cane down and hit me across my chest. I shouted in pain.

  “Stay there!”

  He went to swing at me again, only this time I haphazardly managed to block the blow and his cane fell out of his grip. Clanking on the floor, I reached for it and grabbed it. Not wasting a minute, I swung at his head. At the last second he moved to his right, but I managed to move a few more degrees and hit him still.