by Sand, A. J.
“I told you, everyone needs a fear,” he says, shrugging.
After dessert is served we all move outside to the deck for dancing. I spot Alejandra double-fisting several glasses of champagne at a time, one of her feet in a stiletto heel, the other one bare and on the deck. Ramón goes over to her and greets her with a kiss on the cheek.
“How do you think they know each other exactly?” Drew asks me as the music starts to play.
“No idea.” We’ve never seen Alejandra at a fight, but maybe she’s one of those people who can’t attend because of her public lifestyle in Mexico. Damn, Google would be great right about now. “Divide and conquer?” I suggest. After a nod, Drew makes a beeline for Ramón when he leaves Alejandra’s side. Bracing myself for the crazy, I stride over to her.
“We seem to have international mutual friends.”
“Ramón Vega isn’t my friend.” I hold out my hand. “Would you like to dance?”
“Your mouthy bitch doesn’t mind?” She looks over to Drew and shoots enough daggers at her to pierce a hole in the ship. I grit my teeth into a smile but imagine myself tossing her overboard. A salsa beat is going, and I’m about to whip out those moves I learned at Las Sirenas. But Alejandra has no intention of keeping her hands above the waist, so I haul her off to the bar, so she can grab things she likes more than my dick.
“I was hoping you were dragging me off to have your way with me…” she says, pouting. She pushes me against the wall and curves her hand on my groin. “I would let you come wherever you wanted. In my pussy. On my chest. In my mouth. I bet that piruja doesn’t know how not to let her teeth get in the way, as much as she talks…unless you like teeth.”
I see why Drew only knows the insults. I step back, keeping her at a literal distance of arm’s length, as I grip her shoulders. “What happened between you and my father?” I figure if I cut to the chase it’s less time I spend getting groped.
Her demeanor shifts, her playful, sexual mood now dead (thank God). Mentioning Henry Chance is a bad omen for every living person who knows him. “He screwed me…and then he screwed me…”
“He owes you money?”
“Henry owes me many things, but money…not anymore.”
“Why? Did he owe you about fifty thousand dollars, by chance? And then started paying it off really, really recently?”
She nods slowly. “Not fifty. He owed me about half that.” That asshole. That fucking piece of shit asshole. Turning away from me, Alejandra waves to someone across the ship. Ramón is standing with Hector Peña and signaling for her. She runs her hand across my crotch and flits away toward them. From behind me, Drew threads her arms under mine.
“It was her my father owed, and I’m pretty sure we just helped him pay her. Which means she is the one threatening HJ. What did Ramón say? How does he know her?”
“He only said, ‘Our business interests intersect.’ I don’t think it’s drugs, and I highly doubt it’s the iron ore. He did mention brothels earlier. Maybe she’s the one who brings the girls.” Drew swings around to my front, and her brow bunches as she stares at me. “What are you thinking?”
“Just wondering what the hell my father really got his sons involved in.”
****
Ramón invites nearly the entire shipload of people back to his house for what he keeps calling the real party, which turns out to be loud music, booze, drugs, and partial nudity in about ten minutes flat. Much to my relief, he isn’t interested in showing off his new fighter’s skills, so after mingling for a few minutes, I decide to sneak off to my room to play six degrees of Henry Chance. I lock eyes with Drew as I ascend the staircase, and she casts a reassuring smile at me as she chats with Gabe. I don’t really like leaving her down there, but my thoughts are so muddled I actually need the alone time to process everything.
Henry told me he borrowed money from very bad guys to pay back the Ponzi scheme investors—Alejandra included—and needed the fifty grand to pay off the very bad—finger-chopping, child-threatening—loan guys. But Alejandra says she’s the one he owed, so is she really the finger-chopping, child-threatening bad guy? Did she also loan money to the other guy with the missing fingers? Is she behind the mysterious organization collecting fingers?
A knock startles me back to the present a little while later. “Come in,” I yell.
The door swings open and Drew is standing there flanked by armed men. She’s in another dress Ramón provided. It’s red-sequin and very short. Her hair’s in a bun and she’s wearing a lot of makeup. The crime lord’s Cinderella.
“Hot date?” I say, walking toward her.
“Yes, actually.” She rolls her eyes. “I’m going to a fight with Ramón tonight…as his guest.”
My heart jumps. “What? Wait…he didn’t say anything to me…he wants you to go alone? Just with him?”
She nods with a bright smile. “Look at this house. The man likes to show off pretty things. And, baby, tonight I am that.” Well, it’s good to know that she can dig through all the crazy and find some humor. I can’t. “Gabe will be there.”
“Fuck no. I’m not letting you go with him.” I want to believe Ramón is satisfied that he proved his point in his meeting room of torture, and that he wouldn’t try to hurt Drew again, but nothing about that man makes sense.
“Do you guys mind?” she asks the guards, and they don’t move. “Where am I gonna go, and how fast am I gonna get there in these shoes?” One of them chuckles, but they step back from us. “I don’t want you to come, Jesse. Part of this separation is to scare us, keep him in control. So, we just have to walk a fine line. Don’t give him a reason to escalate because we’re being rebellious or we’re not scared enough. We can’t overreact or underreact. Also, I’ve been talking to Ramón in his office, and I asked him, if I help him study his fighters’ opponents and help his fighters like he wants, and if we are on our best behavior going forward, would he be willing to just give us a flat hundred grand in return. He agreed. You did beat Carlos, after all.”
“But a hundred thousand dollars? I think Ramón would shit gold if you asked.”
“We’re getting out of here eventually, aren’t we? I figure after everything, it’s the least we could get. Dirty money and all.” Her smile is confident but her eyes hold all the worry. “So, I’ll be fine. Promise.” As she turns to go, I grab her hand and pull her back, press her chest right up against mine, and link our fingers. Danger or not, my dick’s still getting hard.
“You’re beautiful…”
“Such a guy. Only a dude would find the time to hit on a chick during life-threatening circumstances. Earthquake? ‘I love when you wear your hair like that.’ Apocalypse? ‘Look at that ass!’” She rolls her eyes.
“Just come back to me, Hallisay,” I say, before I give her a hug. She pushes me against the door, grabs my face, and kisses me breathless. “Damn, just gonna leave me with that good-bye kiss, huh?”
She plants another one on me before walking away. “It was more of a don’t-fucking-get-yourself-killed-while-I’m-gone.”
****
Without Drew I’m antsy and too full of restless energy to keep lying here, so I leave the room eventually on a quest to find the training room for the fighters. The party inside the house has died down to a small group; they’re all still naked and really high, though. There’s much more noise outside. I take all the staircases down to the backyard and find some of the party guests standing around in a circle, cheering. Women have kicked off their heels and the men have loosened their ties. I push through until I’m in the innermost part of the group. There’s a fight going on between two young men. They’re both bloody, their clothes are in tatters, but they’re having the time of their lives. A crushing sensation pulses up from my gut and settles in my lungs. I’d put them around fifteen or sixteen. They’re kids. Just kids. There are several other male teenagers looking on, too, and rooting for their favorite, when they’re not gawking at the women. These must be some of Ramón’s
new fighters. A wave of old feelings slams into me. I’m looking directly into my past. I bet someone has made the same promises to them that were made to me back then. They’re probably in awe of Ramón’s gigantic house, they’ve probably been told about the money, and it looks like the perfect life. No one is telling them about José and Nico and Carlos. And me. They don’t know yet how they’ll struggle with what they become, or worse yet, embrace it. I clench my fists and a bitter burn rises into my throat.
Angry, I shove past the wild crowd again and head back into the house, but a familiar voice emits from one of the patios, and I trail it up. It’s Alejandra and she’s still partaking in Ramón’s debauched decadence, sniffing and eating coke from a mirrored tray at a table. There’s a stuffed envelope nearby, and I can see the stack of bills inside. She joins one of Ramón’s men at the railing that overlooks the part of the yard where the fight is happening. Alejandra and the man are speaking Spanglish, and she’s pointing down into the yard. My nosiness gets the better of me, and I inch closer to them from behind, until the tops of the boys’ heads finally come into view.
The man mimics her, pointing, too. “Him. And that one. Maybe him for half the rate.”
“Okay, half then. His skills have not yet been honed but he’s a quick learner. For those three—cuarenta mil dólares.” Forty grand? She’s brokering a deal. So this is their similar business interest. She’s supplying him with fighters.
“Keep moving. None of your business,” a guard comes out of nowhere and says. It’s the one who was there when Drew and I were “invited’ here. Ulysses. The butt of a high-powered rifle crashes into my chest three times, and I stumble backward.
“I was just looking for a place to work out…” I tell him as I regain my balance. He raises the gun again—it’s aimed at my forehead this time—to show he’s pretty indifferent, despite my explanation.
“Hey! Leave him be,” Alejandra yells out. She’s back at the table, gathering her envelope of money and shoving it into her bag. Ramón’s henchman, the one she was talking to, comes out of the house with another overweight envelope for her.
Alejandra is blinding in a silver dress covered in tiny mirrors. It’s nightclub in the front and ball gown in the back. No wonder she parties here; she’s as gaudy as the house. She walks over and links arms with me before glaring at Ulysses. I imagine he’s upset that there’s one less concussion he will get to dole out tonight.
“Have you seen the white tigers…and the panthers?” Alejandra asks.
“No,” I say. Of course Ramón has exotic animals here. Anyone with gold toilets probably thinks housing endangered species is a sensible next step.
“Then I’ll show you…it’s a lovely garden with a grotto. I’ve been naked in it. From there I can show you the shortcut to where his fighters train.” Her steps are unsteady down the stairs and she’s leaning against me, but I can’t tell if she’s had too much of everything or if she just wants to find more ways to touch me. “He told me once he fed people to the cats. He always teases those who won’t leave his parties that he’ll do that. Do you think he throws them in alive?” Alejandra giggles, while I just get unnerved.
“What were you doing up there?”
“Just a little bit of business between the grownups…” she says. She pauses to watch Ramón’s men lead three of the boys into the house. They must be the chosen ones, the ones lucky enough to one day replace Carlos. Alejandra takes my arm again and we walk until the noise fades. We stroll a paved walkway into a lush garden, and she points out the dark entrance of the grotto, with its rock ceiling that looks like teeth. Through a thicket, I can just make out black iron bars and hear a soft feline growl.
“That was Ramón’s next generation of fighters, huh?”
“I suppose…”
“Where do you get them, Alejandra?”
“Places where there aren’t any mansions, Jesse.” Irritation edges into her voice. “Mexico’s a poor country. Everyone deserves the chance to live well.” You or them? “What is the saying you have in America? Pulling yourself up by your bootstraps? They’ve never even had boots.” Then she gestures at a gray building almost completely behind the house. “You can work out right through there. If it weren’t so late, I would stay and watch you get sweaty because you won’t do it with me.” She pinches my ass and disappears into the flowers.
OF MONSTERS AND MEN
Drew and I fall into a routine over the next week. She goes to fights with Ramón at night and spends a lot of her time with him when he’s here at the house. They’re always in his real office or in the loft. I spend a lot of time in the gym facility or jogging the curvy roads outside the house—with Ramón’s men following me really slowly in a souped-up Escalade. Working out helps with the stress of being here, and it sure as hell passes the time quicker.
The three new fighters are staying at the house, too, for the time being, so we’re all always in the gym together. Ramón trains them into exhaustion with his other established fighters. But none of them is learning anything close to any kind of true fighting technique, just how to beat the shit out of people. They’re ridiculously happy to be here, too. They’re from different parts of Mexico, sought out by Alejandra while they were working low-wage jobs or living in abject poverty, and lured here with the promise of a way to make more money. They want to talk to me and find out what it’s like in the cage, but as soon as I mention what happened to Nico, they look at me like I’m one of the “cool” parents, who is trying to convince their kids that they know best because they were young once.
“Jess, you’ve tried. You can’t beat yourself up if they’re not listening,” Drew says as she tries to steady the heavy bag I’m hitting. I love how supportive she is, but I can’t hit the damn thing as hard as I want when she’s on the other side.
“I know, but they’re being manipulated. Just like I was.” Even thinking about it makes me jab the bag with more force. Fucking Henry Chance.
“I asked Ramón about it and he says they’re free to go whenever…” She rolls her eyes. “But they never leave. You should see his other fighters, the ones whose fights I’ve been going to. They love this life. So, it doesn’t matter what you say, babe. Someone who has been living the very opposite of all this isn’t going to reject the opportunity to live like this. There are a million others ready and willing to take their places, too.”
“Well, they won’t even see any of the money for a while after Ramón tells them they’re going to have to pay for this living out of any winnings first. And if they aren’t winning, they’ll probably get dumped right back to where they came from, and still have to pay him back. Look at José.” I stop hitting the bag, too afraid I’ll hurt Drew. Besides, I want to do some other things to her right now.
“Are we breaking already?” she asks, scrunching her face in confusion. She has her hands on her hips, her running shorts are sitting low, and her stomach is speckled with beads of sweat. I only smile before I pick her up and carry her to a wall, putting her against it. We’ve barely had any alone time, and I just miss touching her. It’s better than hitting that bag, that’s for sure.
“Jesse!” she protests but she wraps her arms around my neck.
“What? No one else is in here.” As soon as my lips crush hers, I press my tongue into her mouth. She grips the back of my neck and clenches my waist tighter between her thighs. I grind my hard-on against her as desire cranks through my blood. Jesus I hope no one comes in here right now. “And I just wanted to kiss you…” I whisper, dipping my face to her collarbone. “Everywhere.” Drew moans as I run my tongue along her shoulder and suck on her earlobe. “So, let me kiss you everywhere…” I thread my tongue between her breasts. My thumb circles her nipple and I pull her sports bra down, exposing one of them. I flick my tongue all over it before taking the hard point into my mouth, and a square gold wrapper falls to the ground.
“Kissing is so overrated, baby…” she says with a smirk as I set her down to pick up t
he condom. She came in here with a plan. Damn, I love this woman. After I rip open the wrapper, her hand eases down the front of my shorts, and she rolls the condom onto me.
“Five minutes?” I say with a wink.
“Just like the old days,” she teases as she giggles. We don’t even take her shorts off; when I lift her again, we just push them and her underwear to the side before I rock into her. I bury my breaths in her hair, and Drew presses her face into my shoulder, her moans making my skin vibrate. I shudder as her hand rides down my sweaty back, and her nails poke into the base of my spine. My fingers slip between our bodies, and I match the rhythm of my thrusts with how I touch her clit. The rush from being in here, the possibility of being caught, has my skin on fire with butterflies swarming beneath. Her body jerks a few times and her teeth sink into my bicep with a soft groan. I’m spent as soon as she comes, finishing just as her climax ends.
Quickies really do get a bad rap.
“I don’t even want to pull out,” I whisper. “You got another one in that bra?”
The door to the workout facility springs open and I shield Drew as she adjusts her clothes. I barely have time to toss the used condom somewhere. Several of Ramón’s men storm in and are screaming for us to come with them. What now? I take Drew’s hand as we’re led into the backyard. There are golf balls strewn all over the grass. Ramón has a golf club in his hand, and a golf bag propped against a table. All of the guards are around, but Ulysses is standing across from everyone else. The closer we get to them, the more dread bears down on me as overbearingly as the Mexican sun.
“What exactly were your instructions during my party?” Ramón asks Ulysses once we’re within hearing range.
“To mind the grounds.”
“Yet…” Ramón hits a golf ball and it rolls to the halfway point of the house. “I was told you assaulted Mr. Chance. Is that so? You’re aware he has a fight coming up.”