Kiss of the Cartel

by Slater, Nikita

  Luis stands, his body going from a supposedly relaxed position, uncoiling like a viper, tension and cold fury running though him. This man is the boss of an entire cartel, beautiful, majestic and lethal. And he belongs to me. Pride blossoms in my chest as I watch him face his nemesis.

  “I am not your son, Garcia. I never was. You killed the only father I have in a dirty warehouse where I was meant to be next.” Tomás opens his mouth as though to deny the accusation. Luis cuts him off. “Your time is over. Don’t insult both of us by pleading. Keeping you and your sons alive, even this long, is more than you gave my family.”

  Tomás thinks over Luis’ words and then his entire demeanour changes, going from mild old man to a sinister, calculating would-be cartel boss. He straightens, his rounded shoulders going back. His face reflecting defeat, but also defiance. “My son will have Arturo by now. I want to negotiate. Arturo for my life and the lives of my sons. Let me go and you can have your cousin back.”

  Luis chuckles. “Bold words. But incorrect. My man, Juan, and Arturo will have captured your other son and his men by now. You have nothing to bargain with.”

  Tomás explodes in rage, his hand gripping his cane so hard the knuckles are white. “I should’ve put your whole family in the ground years ago!” he snarls, pointing at Luis. “Manuel was never supposed to be boss, I was. He moved in when my health deteriorated and took over. In the guise of friendship, he offered me the position of his second-in-command. This regime should belong to my sons, my family. Not yours!”

  Luis doesn’t say anything, just watches dispassionately. Renaldo, who is standing stiffly next to me, tries to speak. “Father, enough. We’re finished. It’s time – ”

  Tomás cuts him off, turning his furious gaze on his son. “If you weren’t so goddamned weak, we wouldn’t be in this position. You and your fucking brother. Both useless!” He swings back to Luis, evil intent lighting his eyes. “I wanted to deal with you as a baby, but I was swayed by your mother.”

  A chill settles over the room, freezing everyone in its path.

  “Explain,” Luis demands.

  “You think she betrayed Manuel only that one time?” he sneers. “She craved power like an addict craves heroin. She spread her legs for any man who would have her, so long as he promised protection if her husband found out. She was beautiful, so I took her offer. If I’d taken that opportunity to wipe out your family years ago, I wouldn't be in this position now.”

  Every word out of Tomás’ mouth is a poison dart, hitting Luis like a bullseye. To the other men in the room he looks stoic, unmoved. But I can see the seething rage, just simmering. He wants this man dead, needs him dead. Luis would kill him now with his bare hands but he must follow protocol. Take him back to his territory. Negotiate terms. Perhaps spare one of the sons. And then there’s Arturo to think of. Arturo deserves his own justice for being set up to take the fall.

  I can’t allow this. There can't be a chance that Tomás survives this. He must die in atonement. Luis must be allowed to take justice the way he wants, the way he needs.

  “Enough.” Luis cuts off Tomás’ ranting vitriol. “You can speak all you want when you’re in my basement, under my knife.”

  Tomás looks unmoved by the threat, his face set in stone now. He’s old world cartel, he understands the concept of justice. Knows what’s coming his way, probably sees it as some kind of vindication. I see an opening. “I’ll secure the prisoner,” I say to Luis, already moving toward Tomás.

  “Lena, get away from him!” Luis’ voice is sharp and commanding. He suspects what I’m up to.

  I look over at him, as though distracted, giving Tomás the opportunity to grab me. He tosses his cane away, grips my arm and spins me around to face the room. He’s holding a knife at my throat. I grip his forearm and stare unblinking at Luis. His eyes are glowing their rage. Not at Tomás. He knows I could take the old man down in less than a heartbeat. No, he’s furious at me. For interfering, for cutting through cartel politics.

  He may be furious, but he’s not about to refuse my gift. I’ve given him exactly what he needs. Swift and decisive revenge. A death for a death. Fast, cold and cruel. The way Manuel died.

  His hand goes for his gun at the same time as I twist in Tomás’ arms, spinning myself against him and then ducking under his arm. Luis leaps toward the desk, grabs him in the blink of an eye, slams him down on the desk and shoots him in the head. I step away as Tomás’ body slides off the desk and slumps to the floor.

  Stunned gasps pop through the air. Renaldo starts screaming his fury and grief. Emiliano hauls him away, leaving the room empty except for myself and Luis.

  Luis rounds the desk, coming at me swiftly, angrily. I back up, hold my hands in front of me to ward him off. “I’m sorry,” I whisper.

  He shoves my arms out of the way and lifts his gun, pressing it against my head. It’s hot from being recently fired and the smell of gunpowder is sharp.

  “I told you I would kill you if you ever betrayed me. Fuck, Lena!”

  “I’m sorry,” I say again and close my eyes, waiting for death. I have no regrets. I defended the man I love. I gave him revenge.

  He drops the gun and yanks me into his chest, holding me so tight I can’t breathe. “I was so fucking scared, Lena. Knowing you were out there hunting his men. Then you were here safe and sound, but you threw yourself into the arms of a murderer. Even though you did it on purpose, even though I knew you could kill him six ways to Sunday, I was still terrified for you.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Stop saying that,” he snaps giving me a little shake. He bends and buries his face in my neck. “Never again, sweetheart. You will become my wife and you will never do this shit again. That’s an order.”

  “Yes, Luis,” I say softly, holding him just as tight. “Whatever you want.”

  We both know he’s wrong though. I will never stop protecting his back.

  17

  Luis

  We take the spoils of the war back to my territory. Renaldo, hands secured behind his back. I tell Emiliano to take him down to the cells where Tomás’ other son is secured and wait for me there. I tell Lena to go to our room and I meet Arturo in the study, alone. He looks solemn. “I didn’t know –” he starts, but I cut him off.

  “You’re a fuck up, Arturo. Always out for a good time. Want to drink and fuck around. Forgetting about your responsibilities.”

  Arturo glares at me. “Not always. I got to the warehouse in time.”

  “In time for what? How the hell did you even know to come to the warehouse?”

  “Old man Garcia told me where you were…” Then he stops. “Fuck.”

  “Funny how that works out. Tomás set you up too. If not for Lena, you’d be dead as well.”

  “No.” Arturo shakes his head. He doesn’t want to be indebted to Lena.

  I wonder briefly if his parents were cousins, he’s so goddamn fucking slow. “Tomás knew about Lena. Did you know? But he underestimated her. Like you did. Like I did. Fuck. So she slaughtered everyone in the warehouse before you finally arrived and saved the fucking day. If she hadn’t, you’d be dead too.”

  Arturo takes a breath as he drops his chin to his chest. “What the fuck do you want me to do. Send her a thank you card?”

  I hesitate for a second, not to gather my courage, but to be ready to fuck Arturo up if he says anything disrespectful. “I’m marrying her, cousin. She’ll be my wife and you’ll respect her.”

  Arturo inhales as he stares at me. “She’s a whore. You’re going to make this family a laughingstock.”

  I’m on him before he can react, shoving him hard against a wall, knife in my hand, poised at his throat. “Here’s what’s going to happen. I’m going to marry her. You’re going to be my best man. The fucking housekeeper is going to be her maid-of-honour. It’s going to be a big fucking wedding and everyone in the goddamned country is going to be invited. And they all better fucking show up and congratulate us.”r />
  Arturo’s face is red. I can’t tell if he pissed, afraid or pissing himself. “Luis, let me go.”

  He doesn't give me the right answer, so I press the blade a little harder against his jugular. “We go in united, as a family. I head this fucking family and you're my goddamned second. You don’t want the job, I’ll find someone else who does. I know a few that would step up. But you’re family, you asshole. Loyal to the end.”

  I shove him hard then release him, turn my back and walk to the bar, grab the first bottle I encounter and unscrew the cap. Fucking tequila. I pour two glasses, hand one to Arturo, who's rubbing at his throat, at the thin line where my knife penetrated skin. “Now toast me, you fucking bastard. And promise your loyalty to both me and Lena. Or I’ll fuck up you and the rest of your family.”

  Arturo wraps his fingers around the glass as he looks down at the amber liquid. Then he meets my eyes and raises his glass. “Here’s to you, Luis. And your virginal wife.”

  I plow my fist into his face so hard he falls back a few feet, hits the floor with his head. Tequila flies everywhere. He’s down, stunned. I’m standing over him with clenched fists, waiting for the next stupid thing that comes out of his mouth. He laughs, hard, hearty, incongruent with the blood flowing from his mouth. “Fuck tradition, I guess. Marry for love, you stupid bastard.”

  I walk away and drop on the couch. I want to go to Lena. I want to wrap myself in her arms and hold her to me. “I intend to.”

  Arturo picks himself up off the floor, picks a cloth up off the bar and presses it to his mouth, then looks at the blood. It’s funny. Everyone does that. Always looks at the blood, like it's going to tell a story. He drops into a chair across from me. “So she’s your wife and I’m your second.”

  “Yes.”

  He tilts his head as his eyes meet mine. “Not your bodyguard?”

  I shake my head. “I’ll lock her the fuck up if she ever puts herself in the line of fire again.” I stop as I think about this. We’ll have babies. She needs to stay safe. “And Arturo, I need to trust you. She needs to trust you.”

  Arturo stares down at the bloody cloth he’s holding. “Here’s what you need to know. You head this family. I respect that, expect it, have no desire to lead. I like what I do and you and me, we work well together. You don’t have to watch your back around me. And Lena. She’s your woman, your wife. I respect that. It could be so much fucking worse.” He grins. “You could be marrying my sister.”

  We both laugh. Arturo’s sister would send me to an early grave.

  We drink, still tequila, then we head downstairs to the cells. Besides Emiliano, there are only two men down there – Tomás’ sons. The rest of Tomás’ men have been removed from the property and, depending on where their loyalty lies, dispatched. Arturo and I are a good match. I prefer a bullet to the head, an easy death, rather than watching men suffer. Arturo, he likes the fight, likes the blood. He’s happy to get his hands dirty. Roberto is the better son. He’s strong, smart, capable. Not a coward. He would do the best job of taking over Tomás’ estate, his leadership. I have Arturo and Emiliano beat him to death in front of his brother.

  Renaldo gets to live. Arturo only beats him half to death, then we cut off his ring finger. A reminder that he’s married to my family. That if he fucks around on us, we bury him. I tell Renaldo to give his regards to his wife and kids. I will be by to meet with him next week. Emiliano and a couple of his men return Renaldo along with Roberto’s body back to Tomás’ estate.

  “Get out of my house,” I say to Arturo. He grins savagely. His blood lust is sated. Now he can go find some drink and some pussy.

  The house is quiet as I enter the main floor. No staff and I have this sudden awareness of how empty it is without my father. I slip my hands into my pockets and lean against a wall, surveying the shadows as I feel grief, atonement, love and the weight of responsibility. I’ve had my first success as head of this cartel, of this family. I have avenged my father’s death and I have destroyed an enemy. It’s a heady feeling.

  I carry it with me upstairs to my bedroom. Lena is waiting for me, wearing nothing but my T-shirt, sitting in the middle of the bed, legs crossed, hands on her knees like she’s meditating. Her eyes are hard question marks as she gazes at me. I smile as both my heart and my cock warm. I sit down on the edge of the bed and pull her to me, her legs straddling me, her knees on either side of my hips, her pelvis pressing against mine. My erection is hard against my zipper and I let it out, sliding easily into her. I hold her close to me, in my arms, not moving, just savouring.

  “Is it done?” she asks.

  I kiss her neck. “Yes. It’s all done. Arturo understands that you are family now. The most important family.”

  She eases herself up and down on my cock, slowly, languid little thrusts. I allow her this small moment of control.

  It’s torture, but I want to finish my thoughts. “We’ll be married, Lena. You’ll be my wife. The wife of a powerful cartel leader. There will be expectations. Can you handle that?”

  She moves a little faster, her arms tighten around my shoulders as she drops her face into the crook of my neck. “Do I have a choice?” she whispers.

  "No," I tell her, my voice steady despite the amazing squeeze of her pussy tempting me to lose all semblance of thought.

  "Good," she whispers. "I don't want anyone but you."

  “We’ll have children. Your job will be to raise them, protect them. Be a mother. Can you do it?” I ask her, running my hands from her back down to her hips. "Life hasn't been kind to you. Maybe you don't want this responsibility."

  "I want it," she whispers, her breath hot in my ear. Her lips as they stroke down my collarbone.

  I slide my hands under the T-shirt, feeling the softness of her back, the strength of her muscles. The curve of her breasts.

  “You will never stray. You will never leave me.”

  “I won't,” she says softly, a little breathily as she moans.

  “I won’t either,” I promise.

  She groans as I shift, her fingers digging into my back.

  “And you will never put yourself in the line of fire, Lena. Even for me.”

  She pulls back and looks at me, into my face and stops rocking on my cock. “I can’t lose you, Luis. The thought makes me lose my breath.”

  I bark a small laugh as I thrust up into her. “It’s my cock making you lose your breath.”

  “Can I still train?”

  I think about this as she trails bites up my neck until she reaches my ear. She nuzzles me, nips the lobe and then clenches her pussy, tightening it around me. Fuck, she’s persuasive. “Yes. If you keep doing that, you can still train. But only to protect the children.”

  She giggles, then she gets serious. “What will they say? All the people? I’m not a good Catholic girl.”

  I flip her around and drop her on the bed so she’s under me, my cock still buried inside her. “They’ll say that you are Mrs. Ramirez, and they’ll respect you.” I’m fucking her faster now and I can tell by the clench of her thighs that she’s getting close. “And if they don’t, you have my permission to reach down their fucking throats and pull their hearts out.”

  She comes then, with a hoarse cry as she cradles me in her arms, between her thighs. I fuck her faster, my thoughts on our future as my own orgasm grows. Our children, our life together, a beautiful fantasy spread out before me. It’s too much and I come, my seed coating the walls of her vagina, invading her womb.

  "I love you," she whispers against me.

  My arms spasm around her and I hold her like I've never held anyone in my life. "Same, sweetheart."

  Epilogue

  Lena

  Two years later

  “Arturo.”

  I approach the man laboriously and try to climb onto the seat next to him. He’s sitting at the bar in my and Luis’ home, waiting for my husband who is currently out on business. Arturo heaves an annoyed sigh and gets up to help me onto the stoo
l. He acts like this is a grievous task, when we both know he can’t wait for the arrival of baby Manuel (or Manuela as I have argued is a possibility). His hands are gentle as he lifts me onto the stool and makes sure that I’m steady before dropping back onto his own chair.

  He eyes me suspiciously as he sips at his drink; I think it’s a gin and tonic since its clear and I’ve never known Arturo to willingly drink water. “What do you want?” His voice is gruff though his eyes soften as they dip toward my prominent belly.

  Arturo and I have developed an understanding. We don’t have to like each other, but we both care about the same man, the well-being of this family and the entire cartel. In that, we acknowledge that we are stronger together than at odds. Sometimes I think Arturo is ashamed of the way he treated me after I was taken to the dungeon, back when Luis was steeped in confusion and grief. He knows that I did everything I could, that essentially, I’d saved both of their lives by acting so quickly. He hides his shame behind a mask of loathing. Though, since the wedding he has been better. And since finding out about the baby, he’s been downright pleasant to me.

  “I need your help.”

  “My help?” he sneers. “Why don’t you go ask your pussy whipped husband.”

  “I would,” I say calmly. “But I need someone dead and we both know how Luis feels about me getting my hands dirty. Especially while I’m pregnant.”

  I have Arturo’s full attention now. He turns on his seat to face me. “I’m listening.” He absently reaches for his drink and takes a healthy gulp while his sharp eyes assess me. “Still don’t know why you won’t talk to Luis though. He’d kill the fucking pope for you.”

  I rub low on my belly and wish there was a back to the stool. Since I hit seven months my belly seems to have exploded outward. My poor back has been taking the brunt of the growth, going from zero to intense pain in seconds if my body doesn’t settle well into a particular position.