by A. J. Adams
“You gave up Arturo’s contacts.” Solitaire’s voice came through muffled but clear. I heard Fuentes and Mateo lay it all out, and I could see the others listening, too.
Now Mateo was trying to scare Solitaire into giving up the access code. He really was a moron. Nobody can make Solitaire do anything she doesn’t want to do, not even me.
As Kyle and his men worked fast but silently, Solitaire was telling Fuentes to go fuck himself. My girl sounded as cool as a cucumber. I think she’d be calm if a tornado hit. I decided that once I got her out, I’d kiss her all over and then take her away and beat her till she was creamy. Afterwards I’d beg her never to do such a stupid thing again.
I know, I should have been worried, but with all of us there, I knew we had it in the bag. Mateo and Fuentes had been lucky, but now they were outsmarted and outgunned. We’d blow our way in, stun them with the grenades, whisk my girl out and then total the fuckers.
Kyle signalled he was done, motioned us all back and then looked around. I was about to ask him what the fuck he was waiting for when I heard a small hooting sound. It was Chumillo and Pepe Rojo, snaking through the long grass. The rest of the cavalry had arrived.
They waved at Kyle, and he motioned us all back. “It blows on three,” he mouthed. “Guard your position, take down whoever comes out, but do not enter until I give the all clear.”
I took up my position by the door that was already beginning to disintegrate, burning intensely with smokeless heat. I should have waited for the all clear but hearing Solitaire’s voice shouting, “Go, go, go!” and then that gunshot, my gut took over, and I was crashing in.
As the door splintered and vanished, time slowed down, just like in the movies. Fuentes was face down on the floor, covered in blood and clearly dead. My Solitaire was down, too. She’d been shot, but she was looking at me, her eyes dark with pain. Mateo was also on the ground, half hidden by the sofa. I stepped aside to get a bead on him, but he was a tricky bastard to the end, rolling fast and shooting up at me. I went down like a like a ho in a back alley, but I got a shot off. It went right in Mateo’s face. I’d been targeting his chest, but my aim was off.
As I hit the floor, all I wanted to do was reach Solitaire. I wanted to tell her that I loved her, but I couldn’t get to her. The last thing I saw was a spray of blood. The last thing I heard was her screaming.
I came to again with a rush. I could hear, but I couldn’t see a thing. I was moving, flying through space, and there was a lot of yelling.
“Clamps! And get Rodriguez in here, NOW!”
“Doctor, what about the girl?”
“We do him first.”
The stupid fuck was about to make a mistake. I fought through the fog and opened my eyes. “Solitaire. Save Solitaire first!”
Bautista’s face hovered above mine. “I am doing my best,” he snapped. “Now lie still, you damn fool!”
I felt a pressure on my neck. I tried to lift a hand, to brush it away but a nurse was clinging to my arm, hissing in fear or anger.
Bautista was yelling again. “Get goddamn Rodriguez!”
I tried to turn my head, and then there was a sharp pain, and I was out again.
The second time I came to, everything was quiet and dark. For a horrific moment I thought I was dead and buried. The muted beep of a machine somewhere stopped my heart bumping its way out of my chest.
I opened my eyes, looked around and there she was: Solitaire. She had two black eyes, she was swathed in bandages, and there was an oxygen mask over her face, but she was alive. I could see her chest rise and fall as she breathed.
“Solitaire!”
My voice was a whisper, but her eyes opened instantly.
Her arm came up, and she lifted the mask. “Arturo! Oh thank God!” Her voice was a thread, but she was smiling.
I tried to sit up, but a large hand came into view, pushing me down. It was Bautista.
“Lie still, Arturo! Solitaire, leave that mask alone!” He sounded tired.
We’re not the type to take orders.
I struggled to sit up. “Is Solitaire –?”
Solitaire was lifting her mask. “Is Arturo –?”
Bautista smiled, not a sight I’d seen before. “You’ll both be all right, if you lie still!”
“He shot Solitaire!”
“The bullet nicked a rib, painful but not lethal.”
He fitted the mask over Solitaire’s face again and then looked me over. “You were shot in the neck. It’s stitched tight, but you almost died. In fact, you did cross over for a few seconds.”
Solitaire lifted her mask again. “We were miles away from here. How the hell did we get back?”
“Helicopter,” Bautista said succinctly. “You landed on the roof, and we don’t have a helipad!” He tried to sound angry, but he was grinning.
Bautista turned to me. “That hulking brother of yours has filled my hospital with his thugs again. There are armed men in every doorway and snipers on the roof. What’s worse, half of my patients think the shadow of death is roaming the halls because he’s checking every entry and exit every ten seconds. And my nurses are having hysterics because your cousins are searching them for weapons every time they come to check the monitors.”
He does like to complain, but he’d saved Solitaire, and me, so I knew what to say. “Sorry, Doc.”
“Hmm, well, if you’re really sorry, you can both lie still and heal.” He fiddled with a drip.
“Yeah, but Doc, I need to know –”
“Later,” he said firmly. And then I was out again.
When I drifted back, I saw Solitaire’s bed was tight up against mine. She was sleeping, but she was holding my hand.
“She saved your life.” Kyle was sitting in a chair next to my bed. I could see why Bautista had complained. My brother’s a big bastard, and all the black gear he wears does give him that aura of sulphur.
“When you went in, against my orders, and got shot like you fucking deserved, she got a grip on your neck. She clamped the wound and kept you from bleeding out.”
The way Kyle told it, he piled her on top of me and then he, Chema and Quique had carried us out and thrown us in the chopper.
“She was in agony but she refused to let go,” Kyle said quietly. “When we got here, she was so far gone with fear for you that they had to knock her out before they could pry her loose.” He looked at me. “If you give her any kind of shit over this, Arturo, I’m going to finish the job and take you out myself.”
“Christ no, Kyle!”
“Good. You realise that if you’d waited a few seconds, I would have taken the bastards down with the stun grenades, and you wouldn’t have been shot?”
“Yes, I know. I panicked.”
“When you get better, I’m going to beat the hell out of you.”
“Funny, I was thinking of doing that with Solitaire.”
“You’re a perverted fuck.”
Solitaire’s voice drifted from the other bed and she pressed my hand. “He’s my perverted fuck, and I don’t share,” she mumbled at Kyle. “Go find someone else to thump.”
That made me laugh, which was all right, but Solitaire got the giggles too, and it’s a bad idea to laugh when you have smashed ribs.
“Utterly buggerly fuck,” she moaned. “That is so the wrong kind of pain!”
That got us all going again, and when Bautista walked in, he clearly thought we were crazy. Then he caught sight of our beds shoved up close together and frowned. “How did that happen?”
“I did it,” Solitaire said quickly.
Somehow I doubted it, and so did the doc.
Kyle grinned at him. “She bullied one of my people into it.”
“I should ban each and every one of you.” The words were harsh, but his tone wasn’t. “Seeing Solitaire is up to no good, I guess she’s feeling better. How are you feeling Arturo?”
For a moment he took me aback. “What’s up, Doc? Am I dying after all?”
H
e knew right off what I was getting at. “I’m not your number one fan,” he sighed, “but it’s customary to monitor patients immediately after anaesthesia, just to make sure everything’s okay. Most people talk about the pain or ask if they’re okay, but all I got out of you was concern for Solitaire.” He grinned. “It was exactly the same with the frigid English cow, as a friend of mine described Solitaire.”
“Chloe,” Solitaire said instantly. “I’m going to appoint her maid of honour. Dealing with Arturo’s sisters will teach her to be cheeky about me.”
That set us off again, and Bautista left, shaking his head but grinning.
We were in hospital for five days, and in that time it became clear that everything was in good shape again. With the Songbird duo identified and taken care of, everyone was doing their best to mend fences.
“It’s like a frigging love-in,” Quique moaned. “Guys who were at each other’s throats last month are buying drinks and hugging.”
“Better than shooting each other.”
Quique rolled his eyes. “It’s disgusting!”
“Then I won’t kiss you for coming to my rescue,” Solitaire laughed.
“Jefa, if you kiss me the boss will shoot me,” Quique replied. “And it would be worth it.”
He meant it, too. Kyle’s team had told everyone what they’d heard, and now that everyone knew Solitaire had risked herself in order to trap Songbird, she was a heroine.
The hospital was inundated with flowers, chocolates and bottles of gin. Solitaire kept the card and flowers sent by her girls in Reynosa but divided the rest among the staff, all of whom promptly adored her. It was just as well, because Luz disapproved of the watery stews and jello the hospital gave us and took to appearing twice a day with a truckload of food to ensure we ate properly. I never did find out if Bautista knew, but it was odd how he never once appeared during a mealtime.
The only people who were less than enthusiastic were Loli and Julia. They came together and put on an act that should have been screened; it was pure telenovela.
“Arturo, what happened?” Julia wailed.
“It’s your fault!” Loli added, glaring at Solitaire.
“Yes, Arturo led a blameless life until he met me!” Solitaire snapped. “You know what we do, so quit whinging when we get hurt.”
“You bitch!” Loli squealed.
But Julia was shaking her head. “She’s right,” she sighed.
“What?” Loli was furious.
“Come on, Loli. Let’s be real about this. We chose this life, and we know the dangers.” Julia looked at Solitaire. “But please tell me this is a one time thing.”
“It had better be,” Solitaire grumped. “I am sorry, Julia, but it had to be done. We had to find the traitor. Getting shot wasn’t part of the plan.”
“For God’s sake look after him,” Julia begged her. “Arturo never listens to us, but you’re such a hard bitch that he’ll mind you.”
I thought all hell would break loose, but Solitaire laughed. “I’ll do my best.”
After that they got on better, and I’m thinking they might be friends – by the time we celebrate our silver wedding anniversary maybe.
Funnily enough Solitaire apologised to me afterwards. “I’m edgy because I got scared.”
“Getting shot is a tough deal.”
“Not me, you damn fool! I meant your getting shot!” Her eyes filled with tears. “I thought you were dead, Arturo.”
“Ay-yay-yay, sirena! Don’t cry!” Thank God it was our third day there, and I’d been cut loose and given permission to move about again. I rolled over and hugged her carefully. “Talk to me, sweetheart.”
Solitaire burst into tears. Yes, my totally in control girl sobbed like a baby. I’d thought earlier that it would be nice to see her lose it, but it wasn’t. It wasn’t just that her ribs hurt when she cried – I was appalled that she hadn’t told me how frightened she’d been those last few weeks.
“You had flashes that made you think you were Songbird and you didn’t tell?” After she came totally clean, I set her straight. “You were the one who talked of trust, Solitaire. You can’t hold back because you think I can’t handle it.”
“I know,” she sniffed. “I guess I’m used to being alone.”
“That was in the past.”
“Yes.” She snuggled into me. “One thing I am grateful for is learning that Fuentes and I were never an item.”
I murmured something soothing because I didn’t want to tell her it was a relief to me, too. God help me, but I’m jealous of any man who’s ever touched her. Pathetic, but there it is.
“I thought I might get a bit more back after being sedated, but it didn’t happen,” Solitaire said softly. “In fact, my dreams and flashes have stopped. When I look in the mirror there’s nothing except for my reflection.”
“Is that what you want?”
Solitaire thought for a while. “Yes,” she said finally. “I know what I need to know. I have some good memories of my parents, and everything between then and now is well lost.” Her eyes were sparkling again. “And from now on it’s all good, Arturo, because whatever happens, we have each other.”
If it hadn’t been for Solitaire’s broken ribs and all those damn tubes and drips, I would have had her there and then. Just as well, really. I don’t think I would have wanted an audience, and with Kyle’s security in place, we couldn’t fart without half a dozen of them checking up on us. What we did do was talk, and there was plenty to discuss.
“I was wondering if I fucked up over Mateo.”
“In what way?”
“Maybe if I’d been nicer to him –”
“Arturo, you sent him to school, kept him, gave him work.”
“But I didn’t like him.”
“He wasn’t easy to like. And you could have let him rot.”
“Maybe I should have.”
Solitaire thought for a while. “I don’t think so. I mean, the others have turned out okay.”
“I know. I’m not thinking straight.”
“It’s just random guilt, Arturo. Let it rest for a while. It will come to you.”
She was right. It took me a while, but I finally decided that shit happens. I might have done a million things differently, but I’d never know if it would have made a difference. All I could do was pick up the pieces. That meant dealing with Mateo’s mama.
“I’ve already been to the rest home,” Chumillo reported.
“That was good of you.”
“She used to give me candy when I was a kid.” Chumillo looked uncomfortable. “All she talks about is wanting chocolate. The nurses say she thinks it’s her birthday. Some throwback to her childhood.”
“So she’s not suffering?”
“No. She’s completely senile.”
I thanked God for it and arranged to take over the payments for the home. “Throw in a box of chocolates every week, and have someone check up on her regularly.”
“Right.” Chumillo shifted about a bit and then said. “Some of the men wanted to take her out, but I told them we’re not like that Gulf scum. We’re men! We don’t take revenge on an old lady.”
“Well done.”
I agreed with him, but I did wonder if I was going soft. What with me getting shot and Solitaire, too, we should have had a bloodbath, just to broadcast how dangerous it is to fuck with us.
“Nonsense,” Solitaire said later. “There’s business, and there’s humanity, Arturo. We do what we, do but we’re honest about it.”
“Honest, sirena?”
“Of course! Everyone knows what we are, Arturo. They can avoid us if they want. We don’t ask them to take out loans, buy counterfeit DVDs, or stolen TVs. And if they voted to make prostitution legal, we’d be out of that business, too. And as for the blow, well, everyone knows what that does to you, but if they want to buy it, let them. It’s the same as smoking.”
“It’s what I always tell myself, too. We’d have no business if there weren
’t so many crooks begging us to work with them.”
Solitaire grinned. “By the way, the Reynosa club is making a bomb.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Got a text from Jesus. Selling sex toys has bumped up profits. He says he thinks he might get two percent more margin by using the old system, but it would be a lot more work. He’s decided my way’s better. He wants me to open another club for him, and he says three of your other regional heads want in, too.”
“Excellent. But after you get better.”
“Sure, but what I meant was, we’re business people. And that means we don’t mess with old ladies, kids or people who live straight.”
“Sometimes the lines blur.”
“From now on any blurring means we err on the side of caution, even if it costs us two percent.”
The sapphire eyes were determined, and I knew this was one of those times where you make a life choice.
“Right you are, sirena.”
After all, I have it all. I can afford to be generous.
“You’re grinning, Arturo.”
“I’m feeling good.”
It was true, too. In a weird way, being shot was like a holiday. We talked day and night, and it brought us closer together than ever before. So we enjoyed our time together, but Bautista was happy at the end of the five days to tell us we could go home.
“No booze, no wild parties and no running around,” he warned us.
“We’ll be in bed by eight,” I told him.
“And none of that either,” he replied without a blink. “Two weeks without won’t kill you – it will just feel like it.”
I never knew the man had a sense of humour. I’m sending him a CAT scan machine next week. It looks like a giant doughnut, but I hear it’s faster than an MRI machine. It set me back three mil, which will make up for all the trouble we’ve caused him. And in case he misses getting pissed off at me, I’ll ignore the date and time he’s set for our check-ups and drop in on him a day early without notice. I know, I’m an asshole. I just can’t help it.
Getting home was a relief, and we did take it easy although we didn’t quite follow Bautista’s strictures on sex. It’s amazing what you can do with a feather, cuffs, a blindfold and an ice cube. Anyway, we took it easy, and a month later we were given the all clear. Solitaire still had to be careful bending over and stretching, but she was healing fast. I was sitting in my office, going through some paperwork when Solitaire came in.