by Crow Gray
“You mean you finally have me under your thumb,” Rosita said with contempt.
Trista was confused. “I don't understand?” she said, looking back and forth between the brother and sister.
“Ah, my sister Rosita, my parents were very aged when she was born. They called her a miracle baby. She never quite adjusted to being so much younger than me, or perhaps it's me that never adjusted. I couldn't help but think of her as a daughter more than a sister,” Esteban said.
“How old are you Rosita?” Trista asked.
“I'm twenty-six,” she said, still looking at Esteban with disgust.
Trista quickly did the math and realized Esteban was roughly twice Rosita's age.
“Did your husband tell you the whole story?” Rosita asked. “I bet he did not.”
Trista couldn't help but notice the striking beauty of Rosita. Her skin was very dark, along with her silky hair, so black it shined. She was wearing blue jeans and a t-shirt, both of them hugging every curve of her perfect body.
“Rosita, let's not speak of such things, not on our first day together,” Esteban said, his happy mood starting to fade.
“He killed my fiancee when I was sixteen. Shot him in the head and buried him in the desert,” Rosita said.
“He stole from me! Even worse, he stole from my bosses! I did what I had to do!” Esteban said, the veins in his neck standing out as he exploded.
“He did not! That bastard Rodolfo did it, and you know it! You killed Leandro to cover up for your no good fucking friend!” Rosita said, exploding as well. She became even sexier when angry, her Latina fire adding a new layer of sensuality.
Just as fast as it had flared, Esteban's temper cooled. “This is all very long ago, let us put the past behind us and look forward to happier times.”
Rosita stared out of the window, her eyes empty. “To me, it may as well have been yesterday,” she said, tears welling in her eyes.
Finding Ed Sharp was easy, and Axl walked up behind him calmly as he walked down the street. It was late, but not so late the streets were entirely deserted. Then again, in Diablo Vista, the streets were never completely deserted. Axl was glad, as he didn't want too many witnesses, but at the same time didn't want to stand out so much Ed noticed him. As they passed an alley, he grabbed Ed and tossed him over a Dumpster.
“What the fuck,” Ed said, rolling to his feet and pulling out a small .25 automatic pistol which Axl easily slapped away from him.
“Hello, Ed,” Axl said, stalking towards him as Ed backed deeper into the alley.
“Axl? Axl Dane?” Ed said, his voice cracking a little.
“Damn, you recognized me even in this dim lighting? I didn't know I was so famous,” Axl said, keeping a close eye on Ed for more weapons. That turned out to be a smart idea, as Ed pulled a switchblade and made a clumsy slash at him. Axl caught Ed's arm and twisted it back until he dropped the blade, which he then kicked under a nearby dumpster.
“Shit, Ed. You try to shoot me, then try to stab me? I'm beginning to think we aren't friends!”
The lighting in the alley was bad, a combination of moonlight, neon, and fluorescent lights coming from a few of the windows. But he could still see Ed had gone pale. He knew Axl's reputation, and also knew odds were against this visit being anything but bad.
“What do you want, Axl? Are you just gonna kill me in a damn dingy alley?” Ed asked, almost crying.
“Not yet, but that may be in your future if you don't shut up and listen to me,” Axl said.
Ed was still backing his way down the alley, eyeing the end and contemplating making a run for it.
“Stop moving, right now. If you run, I'll shoot you,” Axl said, meaning it.
Ed stopped. “What the fuck, Axl? What the hell have I ever done to you?” Ed's mind was racing as he thought of what he possibly could have done to Axl. He screwed a lot of people over, and it was possible Axl had been one of them.
“Trista Morales. Leave her the fuck alone,” Axl said, stepping closer to Ed.
Ed appeared flabbergasted. “Trista Morales? What the fuck Axl, you working for Esteban Morales now? I never thought you'd be one to sell out.”
“I'm not working for Morales, you dumb ass. If I were, you'd be dead already. Just leave her alone. If you go anywhere near her, or her name even passes through your mouth, I'll know. And I'll kill you.” Axl wasn't sure if he'd kill Ed, but he wasn't sure if he wouldn't either.
“Fuck, Axl, why do you care? You fucking her too? She is one hot piece of ass, huh?” Ed said.
Axl sighed, almost feeling sorry for Ed. Ed truly was an idiot. Axl backhanded Ed right in the lips, feeling blood on the back of his hand as Ed's lips split.
“Fuck, Axl!” Ed said, covering his busted lips with his hand.
“Don't insult her again. And stay the fuck away. I'm serious. All you're going to do is get yourself, and maybe some other people killed.”
“So, what, she hired you?” Ed asked, still inspecting the damage to his lip as best he could.
“That's none of your concern. But if you mention me, her, Esteban, or anyone with anything to do with any of us, I'll be back. And I won't be as friendly next time,” Axl said, opening his coat up and letting Ed get a glimpse of the Colt stuffed in his belt.
Ed's eyes widened. “Shit, okay man. No worries, I'll leave her the fuck alone, and you won't have to worry about me again.”
“Now Ed,” Axl said, walking closer to the pimp. Ed tried to back away but found himself wedged between the brick wall and a stack of old wooden pallets. “We both know you have shit for brains. Are you serious about what you're telling me, or are you just planning on doing something stupid the first chance you get?”
“Nah, man. I know I was playing with fire, Morales isn't one to mess with. I'm done, I promise,” Ed said, doing his best not to look Axl in the eyes.
“I know you took money from her. Keep it. I know you've probably spent it anyway. But I also know you touched her, and that I can't just let slide.”
Ed looked at Axl in the face this time, just as Axl pulled his fist back. Ed ducked, so Axl just kicked him between the legs as hard as possible, his snakeskin boots finding a home right in Ed's testicles. Ed howled and then started retching as he hit the ground, unable to do anything more than hold his balls and whimper.
“I'm serious. Don't make me come back,” Axl said, walking away. He knew he truly had Ed scared for his life. He also knew Ed was a dumb ass, and there was a fifty/fifty chance they'd be having this discussion again soon.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Axl waited until the next morning to text Trista, who called him back within the hour.
“I think your problem is solved,” Axl said when he answered.
“You think it is?” Trista said, a hint of uncertainty in her voice.
“Yeah. In most cases I'd be sure, but Ed is such an idiot it's hard to say. If it's not done yet, I'll make sure it gets done. But for now, you're good. And this comes with my personal guarantee. Ed's not going to be a problem.”
Trista sighed in relief. “Thank you. I don't know what else to say. You saved my life here.”
“You can thank me by paying me. Ten grand, in cash, and I'll text you the location to drop it off. There's a liquor store in town that takes all of my payments. I don't usually like to have clients back at my office once our business concludes.”
Trista was silent a while before finally saying “okay.” Axl thought he detected some disappointment in her voice, but it was hard to tell.
“If he shows up again, let me know immediately. I've got some eyes on him, so I'll hopefully know before you do.”
“Okay,” she said once again. “Thank you.”
“No, thank you. It was a pleasure doing business with you,” Axl said, hanging up. He texted her the address of the liquor store and then took a seat behind his desk. He never had gotten around to checking his ledger.
Things were quiet for about a week, then early one morning Ax
l got a call from one of his sources.
“Yeah?” he said as he answered.
“Axl? Bad news, my brother,” Gino said. He was a gambler that held private poker games every night, but he also kept his eyes and ears opened at all times.
“Shit, what now?” Axl asked.
“Your boy Ed? He took off in a huff, and it looks like he's headed for Esteban's house.”
“Are you shitting me? Esteban is going to kill his ass!”
“Esteban ain't home. He got called away on something big. Something so big nobody will even talk about it. But he's gone for a day or two, and somehow Ed found out. He's been pissed at you ever since you kicked his ass in the alley.”
“It was technically his nuts I kicked, but whatever. So he is going to push me huh? Sonofabitch, I knew he was stupid, I hoped he wasn't this stupid.”
“I could have told you, Axl. Ed Sharp must have been jacking off when the brains got passed out.”
“Okay, Gino, thanks for telling me.”
“Anything more I can do?” Gino asked.
“Nah, I got this one. I owe you one,” Axl said, hanging up. Fuck, he thought. I may end up having to kill that little bastard after all.
Axl got into the Bronco and took off towards Esteban's house. He knew where it was. There was a new subdivision going up not too far from the Mexican Border. The whole thing seemed fishy, as it was a weird place to put a bunch of fancy houses. He dialed Trista as he drove.
“Axl?” she answered. “Is something wrong?”
“Yeah, Ed is on his way to your house. Esteban's gone, right?”
“How the hell did you know that? I just found out last night. Esteban said he had something very important to take care of, and he took off. Ed is coming here? Did he know Esteban was gone? What the hell?” Trista asked, exasperated.
“I don't understand it all, either. Are you alone?”
“Um, not exactly.”
“Who's there?”
“Esteban's sister, Rosita.”
“His sister? I didn't even know he had a sister,” Axl said.
“It's a long story.”
“So it's just you and her?”
“And the pool man is here,” she said, and Axl detected an odd lilt in her voice.
“The pool man? You need to warn him then. I don't know what Ed has in mind, but I'm sure he has bad intentions. Do you have a gun?”
“Yes, I have a pistol.”
“Get it, and get everyone together and lock the door. Don't do anything until I get there, but shoot him if you have to. I don't know how much of a head start he has on me.”
“Okay,” Trista said.
“Gotta go, call if you have to,” Axl said, tossing the phone into the seat. The hands free on his phone sucked, and the last thing he needed was to be distracted driving. He also didn't want to get stopped by some policeman looking to write a ticket either. He went as fast as he dared, rubbing the Colt Python by reflex.
He made the drive in record time, realizing he hadn't thought of a way to get past the guards. He pulled up to the gate slowly, but the guards opened it for him without him having to ask.
“Hey, Mrs. Morales told us you were coming by. The pool's got a leak the pool boy can't fix, eh?” the guard said, an overweight black man who was bigger around than he was tall.
“Yeah, something like that,” Axl said, going along with the story Trista has been smart enough to plant.
He drove on through, wondering if he'd know which house was Esteban's. He'd never seen it but had heard about it. It was easy to spot. It was by far the largest and nicest house in the neighborhood, and sure enough, Ed's jalopy was parked on the curb just outside.
He cursed and pulled into a nearby vacant lot. There were only a few houses constructed, but several more sites had been staked out for future projects. Axl kept his Colt hidden as he slipped out, wondering the best way to approach. He saw the front door was open, so he made his way there. He drew the pistol and listened before he entered, hearing distant voices. Someone was yelling, and he heard male and female voices.
He slowly walked in, following the sounds. He made his way up the large, winding staircase. It looked like Esteban had seen Scarface too many times from the décor of the house. He tracked the voices to an open doorway upstairs, finally able to pick out what was being said.
“He kicked me in the nuts! Who the fuck does he think he is? I mean, come on!” Ed was yelling.
“Man, just calm down, let's talk about this,” another male voice said, one Axl didn't recognize.
“Fuck you, who are you to tell me to calm down?” Ed said.
“Dammit, Ed, what the fuck do you want? More money?” Trista said.
“I want you and your stupid asshole boyfriend Axl dead is what I want!” Ed said. He sounded out of his mind, probably on something.
“Think about who she's married to,” the male said again.
“I could say the same of you! I know you're fucking her!” Ed said, causing Axl to make a face.
Axl crept slowly to the doorway, and saw that Ed had his back to the door and was waving around some type of handgun. He crept closer, keeping his Python handy but not wanting to shoot Ed in the back unless he had to.
“I should shoot you right in front of her. No, I should fuck her in front of you, then shoot you in front of her. No, no, I got it. I should fuck both of the girls then fuck you, then shoot you all. No, I know, I'll shoot you and then fuck you,” Ed rambled, obviously out of his mind. Even in such a tense situation, Axl was having a hard time keeping a straight face at Ed's words.
“Dude, that doesn't even make any sense,” the male voice said.
“Hey, Ed,” Axl said, causing Ed to turn. Ed's face met Axl's fist, and then Ed hit the ground and was still.
“Axl! Thank god!” Trista said.
Axl stepped into the room, seeing Trista and a man who must have been the pool boy. What caught his attention, however, was the young Hispanic woman seated quietly in a chair by the window. She was so stunning Axl was unable to look away from her. She caught Axl's gaze, giving him a smoldering look before turning to look out of the window.
“Is everyone okay?” Axl asked.
“We're fine, dude. That was awesome!” Geoff said, giving Axl a thumbs up. Axl looked Geoff over. It was like someone had looked in a catalog and ordered a pool boy. He was a surfer type from head to toe, pretty on the outside but probably vapid on the inside.
“I take it you're the pool guy?” Axl asked.
“Yes, that's Geoff. And that's Esteban's sister, Rosita,” Trista said, indicating the girl who was holding most of Axl's attention.
“Rosita. What a pretty name,” Axl said, then realized it sounded a little out of place given the circumstances.
“I like the name Axl,” Rosita said, giving Axl a look that made his throat tighten.
“Yeah, so, if I can interrupt your love connection, can someone explain what's going on here?” Geoff asked, his question directed at anyone who could answer.
“I'll let Trista explain it for you later. For now, let's get him out of here,” Axl said, pointing at Ed's unconscious form. A sound in the distance caught Axl's attention, and he walked out of the bedroom and over to a window on the opposite side of the house. A Mercedes was flying into the driveway at a speed that was far from safe.
“Oh, shit,” Trista said, having joined Axl in front of the window along with Geoff and Rosita.
“Esteban?” Axl asked.
“Yes. What do we do?” Trista said.
“Oh fuck! What do we do? Oh, shit!” Geoff said, starting to freak out.
“Hang on, aren't you the pool guy? I wouldn't think you being here would be that far out of bounds,” Axl said.
Geoff scratched his head. “It's not my usual day, though.”
“Then something came up, and you had to come early,” Axl said.
Geoff gave Axl a blank look and then smiled. “You're a smart dude, aren't you!”
&n
bsp; Axl just stared at Geoff. “I'm going to be a little harder to explain, though. I need to get out.”
The front door burst open, and Esteban ran into the house, going straight to a room on the bottom floor as if in a great rush.
“What the hell?” Axl whispered to Trista.
“That's his office,” Trista whispered back.
Axl backed into the bedroom, checking the window out in case he needed to make a getaway.
“Honey, is everything okay?” Trista called down to him. He didn't answer, instead running from his office carrying a duffle bag and heading back into the garage. He peeled out in his Mercedes and was soon out of sight.
Axl stepped back into the hall and watched as Esteban raced out of the neighborhood. “That's probably not a good sign,” Axl said. “I think we should all get out of here.”
Before they could move, the screech of tires filled the air. Soon, three ragged pick-up trucks came pulling into the neighborhood, driving right onto the lawn of Esteban's house. The trucks bristled with rough looking men carrying automatic weapons, mostly AK-47 assault rifles.
“Fuck. What has Esteban done now?” Axl said, mostly to himself.
“Oh shit, dude, this is NOT cool,” Geoff said, giving the newcomers a slack-jawed stare.
“That bastard. He must have screwed the cartel,” Rosita said. Axl turned to look at her and saw the anger burning in her eyes. She looked sexy as hell.
The men started to swarm from the truck when two more cars drove into the neighborhood. They were both Cadillac SUVs, and they stopped on the road just before reaching the house. The men who had come in the pick-ups, the majority of which appeared to be Latin, stopped and watched the cars as if unsure about the new arrivals. Several men in black suits exited the two SUVs. They were all wearing sunglasses, and carrying some type of compact sub-machine gun. What was most striking about them was the fact several also had samurai swords strapped to their backs.
“Fuck, they must be Yakuza,” Axl said.