by Hamel, B. B.
I felt her body, kissed her shoulder, tasted sweat on her skin, and in that moment I knew I’d do whatever had to be done to make sure she came through this all alive, because the world deserved her, the world needed her.
Fucking hell, I needed her.
If I had any chance, it was with this girl, and I wasn’t about to let that go.
25
Clair
Just after midnight, clouds over the moon. Streetlights glowed orange and buzzed an electric hum. I stood in the middle of an empty parking lot, the little wooden shack where the parking attendant usually sat stood empty and abandoned. Old chip bags littered the ground, a rosary hung from a nail. Grass grew in the cracks in the pavement.
I leaned up against the long metal pylon shoved in the ground next to the shack and crossed my arms.
The city was empty. Not a single drunk couple, homeless guy, insomniac, young idiot, or pack of feral cats walked past. I wanted to scream, wanted to make noise, but I was told not to move, not to do anything but stand and look nonthreatening.
The Jalisco were late. Ten minutes late, exactly, and I was ready to give up and walk away. I would have already if it weren’t for Luca whispering in my ear.
“You hear that, sweetheart?”
I tried not to move my mouth too much when I answered. “Hear what?”
“That’s the sound of a bunch of scared fucking cartel guys,” he said.
I reached up, fidgeted with the little Bluetooth speaker in my ear, then stopped myself. It was tiny and covered by my hair, but I had to be careful. I dropped my hand back to my thigh.
“It’s quiet,” I said.
“Exactly.” I heard him laugh into the phone. “They’re scared because they know you’re a badass. They didn’t think you’d show.”
“Please, if they’re watching, I bet they can see me shaking right now.”
“No way. They just see some bad-ass bitch standing there like a boss, waiting to face them down.”
I smiled a little. “Don’t call me a bitch.”
“I mean it in the nicest way possible, darling.”
I stifled a laugh and took a deep breath. “Seriously, Luca. Where are they?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “But they’ll show. This is crunch time for them, darling. They can’t afford not to show up. You’re their last, desperate move, and if they can’t get what you’ve got, then they’re through.”
“Yeah,” I said, taking a deep breath and letting it out. “I know you’re right. I just hate waiting.”
“Waiting’s always the worst part,” he said. “When the time comes, it’s never as bad as we thought. Being afraid is always worse than the thing itself.”
“Yeah? Where’d you read that?”
“Learned it the hard way.” A little rueful laugh. “From all those nights kicking in doors. I’ve been scared shitless, shaking in my fucking boots, you know what I mean? But as soon as the running, the shooting, the yelling starts, it all goes away. Fear replaced by action. The thing itself is never as bad as the waiting. Anticipation and fear are the real enemies, darling. You master those, you master the world.”
“You should write a book,” I said, then caught sight of a shadow down the block. The shadow resolved itself into the shape of a man, then a second man, then a third. I leaned forward as the trio came toward me. “Shit, I think that’s them.”
“Steady,” he said. “Stay calm. I’ll tell you what to do.”
“Right. Right. Steady.”
The lead guy was tall, stretched out and skinny, with shabby brown cargo pants and a long brown jacket. He carried a suitcase in his right hand and his left was shoved into a pocket in his jacket. The second man was short, broad, squat, with a patchy beard, dark beady eyes, and rumpled street clothes. The third wore a pressed suit, looked like he worked out, was almost handsome if it weren’t for the hooked nose and the thinning hair.
They crossed the street then came toward me. I stood up straight.
“I don’t see my mom,” I said.
“They’re not alone,” Luca said in my ear. “We just got word of a couple cars parked around the corner from you.”
“Really? How many in there?”
“Not sure yet. Guys on the roof are watching. Just pay attention and do your job.”
The men crossed into the parking lot and came toward me. I crossed my arms over my chest and stood there, not moving, as they came within a few feet of me. The man with the briefcase leered at me, a wicked, goofy grin on his face.
“You’re the girl,” he said. “You’re Clair.” His accent was light, barely perceptible.
“That’s me,” I said. “Where’s my mom?”
“She’s nearby.” Suitcase guy laughed. “My name’s Julian, the short guy there is Bautista, and the dapper gentleman is Leonel.”
“Nice to meet you,” I said.
“Oh, come on, Clair,” Luca said, mockingly. “Don’t tell them it’s nice to see them. You don’t gotta be polite.”
I wanted to tell him to shut up, but I held my tongue.
“Polite, I like it.” Julian beamed at me. “I assume you know why you’re here.”
“You want my money,” I said. “And I want my mother.”
“That about sums it up.”
“I don’t know how you expect to get it. I don’t even have control of it yet.”
“Ah, well.” Julian held out the briefcase. He brought his other hand out of his pocket, and I flinched, afraid I’d see a gun. But he just held the case with that hand and flipped open the latches.
Inside was a stack of papers.
“We had a lawyer draw these up, you see.” The dapper gentleman named Leonel spoke up. “Not exactly ironclad, but so long as you don’t contest anything, they’ll make do.”
“And if I do contest them?” I ask.
Bautista grunted at me like a dog. “We’ll kill you,” he said.
“Now, Bautista,” Leonel said, making a disdainful face. “None of that.”
“Just telling the bitch what she wants to hear.”
“Don’t call me a bitch,” I said, almost automatically.
“Good for you,” Luca said, chuckling.
“What did you just say to me?” Bautista stared at me, eyes wide, but Julian laughed and closed the briefcase.
“I’ll apologize for my friend here,” Julian said. “He’s the least civilized of the three of us.”
“I saw you that night,” Bautista said, eyes wide. “I saw you run like a bitch. So I’ll call you what I want to call you.”
“He’ll die first,” Luca whispered, so soft.
“If you want this deal to happen, you should put your dog on a leash,” I said.
Leonel and Julian both laughed, and Bautista turned red. He took a step forward, and for a second I thought he might lash out. But Julian put a hand out and Bautista stopped himself with a growl.
“Enough of this,” Julian said. “If you sign these papers, we’ll make sure your mom walks free and we’ll leave you alone for the rest of your lives.”
“However short they may be,” Bautista said.
“Make them show her,” Luca whispered in my ear.
“I want to see her,” I said.
“I’m afraid we can’t do that,” Julian said.
“Push,” Luca whispered.
“I have to make sure she’s okay,” I said. “I need you to show me that she’s okay. I can’t just… just trust you people.”
“I understand your position,” Julian said. “But I also know that you didn’t really come here alone. I don’t know where they are, but there’s no doubt in my mind that the Leone are around here somewhere. They might even be listening in right now.”
“Keep pushing,” Luca whispered. “We need her.”
“Of course they’re here,” I said. “I’m not stupid enough to come without them. But we have a deal and they can go fuck themselves. The only thing I want is my mother.”
Julian laug
hed. “Where are they?”
“Rooftops,” I said.
Julian glanced at Bautista and nodded. Bautista walked away and took out a phone. He called someone, spoke rapid-fire Spanish, nodded back at Julian.
“Okay then,” Julian said. “You were honest with us, yeah?”
“I was honest,” I said.
“Good,” Luca whispered. “Good girl.” His voice was crooning, calming.
“Then come sign the papers.”
“Bring my mother out here, right now, and I’ll sign.”
“We can go in circles all night,” Julian said.
“I gave you something. Now you give me something. That’s how negotiations work. If you can’t come here and meet me halfway in good faith, then I’ll walk away and let you and the Leone family shoot at each other. Honestly, that would probably be the best-case scenario for me.”
Julian stared at me, and I swear, my knees were shaking.
But I felt strangely in control. Like I was finally at a point where I’d do anything, truly do anything, and nothing else mattered. Even if these three men would kill me, and I was sure that they would, it just didn’t affect anything I was going to say or do.
In the end, I had to save my mother. That was all that mattered.
“Fine,” Julian said, and snapped his fingers at Bautista, who took out his phone again, made another call, hung it up.
“They’re moving,” Luca whispered. “Car doors opening. I see her right now.”
I almost answered. I really almost answered, my mouth opened, I was on the verge of speaking, but then I shut my mouth before the words could come out. I was sure they noticed, sure they saw that little lapse, but they didn’t mention anything.
We stood in silence for two minutes, until my mother appeared around the corner, shepherded by two bald men with no necks and dark jackets. She started running toward me when they reached the parking lot, but one of them grabbed her elbow.
“Mom,” I said. “Mom, are you okay? Did they hurt you?”
“No,” she said, glaring back at her captives. “They didn’t hurt me, because they don’t want to make their mothers ashamed of them.”
One bald monster rolled his eyes.
“We’re not unreasonable men,” Julian said. “We didn’t beat her, didn’t hurt her. We will though, certainly we will, but it didn’t come to that. We’re happier for it, I think we’re all happier for it.”
“What now?” I asked, but I wasn’t talking to Julian.
“Getting into position,” Luca whispered, and I heard a bit of static over the line as he began to move. “Stall them.”
“Now you sign,” Julian said. “We make it nice and official. Then you walk away with your mother. Your life won’t have changed at all, and nobody got hurt. All very civilized.”
I took a step forward. Julian opened the briefcase again and offered it to me.
I took it, put it on the ground, and knelt in front of it.
He leaned down, looking over my shoulder. I found a pen tucked into a little pocket, took it out, clicked it open, then began to skim the first page.
“Don’t read it,” Julian said, his voice soft, his breath warm on my neck. “Don’t waste your time. Just sign the fucking thing.”
“I’m not letting you take more than you’re owed,” I said. “So unless you want me to get a lawyer to go through this, you better let me read it.”
He chuckled darkly, but didn’t argue.
The lawyer-speak flowered in front of my eyes and made no sense.
It didn’t matter. I skimmed, kept skimming, pretended to go through it. I initialed the first page, flipped it, read on.
As far as I could tell, it wanted me to sell my soul and my firstborn child.
“Another minute,” Luca whispered, sounding distant. “Just hold on.”
“What does this mean?” I said, jabbing the pen at a random clause.
Julian grabbed the paper from my hand and held it inches from his nose. He squinted, shook his head, shoved it back at me.
“Who the fuck cares? Sign the goddamn thing and move on.”
He was on edge. I initialed the bottom with shaking hands, flipped to the next page, skimmed it, and signed. I had another six pages to go, and I hadn’t actually absorbed a single word.
None of it mattered. My heart was beating, my arms sweating. I could smell the ink and I thought I tasted something metallic on my tongue.
“What’s taking so long?” Leonel asked.
“Hurry the bitch up,” Bautista said. “Fuck, it’s hot, it’s late, and I’m exhausted.”
“Honey, you take your time, okay?” Mom’s voice sounded like she was annoyed about the whole thing. “Don’t let these men rush you.”
I looked up, trembling. Julian crouched down next to me.
“You’re stalling,” he said. “You think the Leone family’s going to save you. But listen, little girl. They’re not coming, that much is clear. The rooftops are empty. You’re all alone out here.”
“The rooftops are empty?” I asked, surprised.
They were supposed to be up there.
I wasn’t lying when I told them that.
“Ready,” Luca whispered. “When I say so, you hit the ground. Okay?”
“Our guys are up there now,” Julian said. “So sign the papers, get this over with, and we can all move on with our lives.”
I took a deep breath and looked at him. I nodded, trembling, and initialed another page.
“Down,” Luca said. “Now!”
I threw the paper aside, and hit the ground hard. I covered my head as something exploded above me. I heard a grunt and something wet splashed the back of my neck.
“What the fuck?” Leonel said.
“Fuck!” Bautista’s grunt. “Fuck! Fuck!”
More explosions. It took me a second to recognize gunfire from somewhere close. I rolled onto my side, covering my head, and saw my mom standing there, frozen, her eyes wide. One of the men tried to grab her and pull her away.
Across the street, a blue door burst open. Luca jumped off the stoop, came sprinting over. I screamed for my mom as more gunfire erupted around me. Bautista went down, a handgun in his hand, the barrel pointed at my head. He staggered back as his skull exploded in a blossom of blood, brain, and bone.
Leonel was next, bullets taking him as he began to run.
Luca slammed into one of the men holding my mom. He tackled the guy, slammed his shoulder into the big man’s chest, knocking him to the ground. Luca brought up his Glock, fired twice into the other guy’s chest, knocking him back, then put a bullet in his head. He turned and repeated the procedure on the guy he’d tackled, two in the chest, one in the head.
My mother stood there, her face white, her eyes wide.
“Come on,” Luca yelled. He grabbed me from the ground, pulled me up. I realized I was covered in Julian’s blood. He was sprawled on the ground, riddled with bullets, inches from where I was huddled.
Luca pulled me and my mom away from the parking lot. More gunfire erupted as we turned the corner. I saw two black cars parked on the curb, and people were shooting at them from third-floor windows. It hit me all of a sudden that the Leone people weren’t on the roofs at all, because they were inside the houses.
“Trapped them on the roofs,” he said. “We’ll kill those fuckers soon, but they’re dangerous, so we’ve got to run.”
Bullets slammed into the ground all around us as he sprinted across the street again. He pulled me along, and I pulled my mother. We barely kept up as more bullets sprayed the concrete, sending shards and shrapnel into the air.
We reached the blue door he’d come out of. He made sure I got in, made sure my mother got in, then slammed the door shut behind us.
The living room was empty, a single lamp in the corner lighting the place.
“Where are we?” I asked, breathing hard.
“Safe house,” he said. “This is all Russian territory, and we’re allied with th
e Russians.”
“What about the guys on the roof?”
“We’ll finish off the guys outside then move up and take them out. They’re trapped now.” He leaned up against the wall and took deep breaths. “Fucking hell, that was close.”
“Are we safe?” I asked.
He met my gaze and nodded once. “We’re safe.”
My mother collapsed onto her knees and began to sob.
I knelt down next to her, wrapped my arms around her, and pulled her tight.
Gunfire popped off for the next ten minutes, coming and going. I heard screams in the night as the Leone family finished off the Jalisco guys on the roofs.
But one by one, they killed them all. Every single man, finished.
“Is this the end of them?” I asked Luca.
He shook his head. “Diego thinks so. He thinks they brought everything to this. That guy out there? The one who said his name was Julian?”
“Yeah,” I said. “The dead one. I mean, the one that bled on me.”
“He as the acting leader,” Luca said. “The other two, I think those were his lieutenants. I recognize Bautista, but not the other one. Their network in this city is broken now, and it’ll take them months before they can get it up again, if they decide it’s worth the effort.”
I hugged my mom tight, kissed her, then stood. Luca stared at me, and I stared back.
I walked to him, let him wrap his arms around me, and I let out the sob I’d been holding deep inside for days.
“You’re okay, little darling,” he whispered, kissed my hair, and hugged me close.
26
Luca
Don Leone hobbled across his office toward the huge mahogany desk. There were scorch marks all over the front, the rug was ripped and torn, the bookshelves smashed, the books decimated. Most of the debris had been cleaned from the floors and the windows were boarded up and taped over, but the office would never be the same, no matter how much work they put into it.
He let out a grunt of pain as he sat in a chair behind his desk. His leg was still wrapped in bandages, and his limp was even worse. I hovered in front of his desk with Clair standing close, our shoulders touching.