by Ali Vali
*
“Jerome Rhodes,” Anthony Curtis said out loud as he stared at himself in the bathroom mirror. The name, his new identity, and the face he saw still unsettled him.
A year ago he’d been happy in the back of a van with his team of colleagues and friends, knowing where his life was headed. Only Special Agent Anthony Curtis didn’t exist anymore. He’d died or, more accurately, been erased under the skillful hands of the plastic surgeon Gracelia Luis Ortega had found. Now he appeared more Hispanic—his lips fuller, his cheekbones more pronounced—but his eyes were the same. They were his only anchor to his past and the only physical trait he shared with his mother.
“What’s wrong?” Gracelia asked as she dropped her robe and stood naked before him.
This was his savior; at least that’s what she said constantly. Gracelia was a beautiful woman and the best lover he’d had, but all that didn’t balance out her dark side. She was vicious, so much so that he realized everything her brother Rodolfo had done paled when compared to her actions. Rodolfo might’ve unwittingly been her teacher in that area, but she’d mastered her education so she could groom her son Juan to follow her. Her lessons had culminated with Juan strapping his uncle to a tree, coating him in honey, and unleashing ants on him. Juan had snapped before Rodolfo had suffered too much and shot him dead. They raised family dysfunction to new heights.
The elaborate death trap had been Gracelia’s vengeance for Armando Ortega, the love of her life and Juan’s father. When Rodolfo found out Armando had gotten Gracelia pregnant and then run, he’d handled the situation with a tree and ants. The thought of thousands of those little fuckers tearing off his dick made him cringe. Gracelia had never forgiven Rodolfo for the betrayal, so she’d taken everything from him, including his life and business.
“Nothing,” Anthony said, not in the mood for a fight or a long discussion. In their time together he found Gracelia much smarter than her son, but just as psychotic, so he tried his best to keep her calm. “I’m still trying to get used to all this.”
“Stop worrying and enjoy the time off before we have to return to the States to make sure everything is in order.”
They’d fled New Orleans after killing Rodolfo and returned to Gracelia’s home in Cabo San Lucas. From the reports of the men they’d left behind, things were starting to calm down and the police had moved Rodolfo’s case off their priority list. The only problem Gracelia didn’t want to acknowledge was Juan’s disappearance. She’d had no communication from him in two months, and he hoped the stupid fucker hadn’t gotten himself killed in a way that’d cause him a problem. A new identity wasn’t ideal, but it was saving him from a life sentence in jail or running from Cain Casey.
“Nothing from Juan today?” he asked, risking Gracelia’s temper.
“You’ve got to start using ‘Gustavo,’” Gracelia said, as if speaking to a small child who refused to learn his lessons. “You are now Jerome and he is Gustavo.” She jerked the knobs of the shower on, as if not wanting to look at him anymore. “You act as if you don’t appreciate everything I have done to keep you safe.”
He came up behind her and pressed against her. “I’m grateful, but you have to admit Gustavo has to be found before he gets into trouble,” he said, using the name to appease her. “We’ve got a chance to build on what Rodolfo had, but we have to be smart about it.”
“Juan is my problem. Yours is to deal with the business,” she said, calmer. “He’s upset with not getting what he wants. You should understand that.”
“I know you don’t like disappointing him.” He turned her around to face him once they were in the shower. “But sometimes he can’t have everything he wants. If you can’t explain that in a way that’ll make him understand, I’ll be happy to do it for you.”
“Is it so hard to give him this woman who’s twisted his mind into a knot?” She cupped his testicles in her palm. Whenever she did, a tiny tendril of fear made him think she’d rip them off and show them to him as he writhed in pain.
“Do you want to go to war with three of the strongest families in New Orleans? Do you think we’re in that position?” This was the last conversation he was having about this. If Gracelia refused to acknowledge the truth, he was leaving and starting over with the men who had begun answering to him since they’d returned to Mexico. Gracelia had quickly become bored with the day-to-day decisions, so he’d taken over, leaving her to pretend to make the big calls. The men still feared her, but they’d grown to respect his authority.
“If you want to give him everything even when it’s not wise, you’ll go down with him. Not me, or anyone, will be able to save you.”
Gracelia grabbed him by the biceps, appearing panicky. “You can’t leave me. I’ll kill you if you try.”
“Then kill me and put me out of this miserable limbo,” he said, and shrugged her off. “If you want to cater to that idiot, do it. I’m out of here.” Her smile was smug, as if she wasn’t buying his bluff. But he wasn’t bluffing, which was freeing. The worry and despair of living the same day over and over was gone. This was it. He wasn’t interested in dying, but as he walked out of the bathroom he finally felt like he was getting somewhere.
“You’re asking me to cut Juan out,” Gracelia said as she stood on the bathroom tiles dripping wet. “I can’t do that. He wouldn’t survive.”
“That’s not what I want.” He threw his towel on the bed and shoved his legs into his jeans. “Gustavo or Juan, whatever you call him, is fixated on Emma Casey. To get her you have to get through Cain Casey. If he’s lucky enough to do that, the Jatibon and the Carlotti families will join with the Casey crew to hunt you down. I watched these people for years, so I know that for sure. Besides, Cain found Juan when he returned under the Ortega name with the help of Hector Delarosa. Do you have that much muscle at your disposal and haven’t shared it with me?”
“Why would Hector help Casey?” Gracelia asked as she put her robe on, her skin covered in goose bumps.
“I didn’t get to ask, but it might have something to do with what Cain brings to any of her business partnerships. Hector was smart to dole out the favors. He wants to establish himself, and getting Casey to back him is smart. Trying to get her wife for Juan to play with is fucking stupid, but knock yourself out since he needs you to prop him up.”
“You want me to sacrifice him. It’s not that easy.”
“No,” he yelled, tired of explaining himself. Gracelia had a talent for hearing only what she wanted. “You need to take a lesson from Rodolfo and keep him in line.”
“My son hated Rodolfo.”
“Obviously,” he said as he put his shoes on. “Especially with you whispering in his ear about the god Armando.”
“You are talking dangerous words now.” Gracelia’s voice had become low and threatening.
“Close your mind if you want, but while Rodolfo was alive he kept Juan on a short leash so he wouldn’t do anything stupid. Rodolfo knew Juan’s limitations and let him do only what he could handle.” He picked up his wallet and passport and slipped them into his back pocket. “The only person who did learn from Rodolfo, and he’s taking those lessons to heart, is Carlos Santiago, or Carlos Luis, since he took the name Rodolfo gave him. He’s being smart about how he does things, and one of his priorities is hunting you and Juan. If you were thinking of rolling over the men loyal to your late brother, forget it. They belong to Carlos now.”
“That won’t last long.”
“Good luck to you, then.”
He made it outside with Gracelia a few feet behind him. “Wait,” she said before he could walk out to the road. “I’ll find him and tell him we have other, more important things to worry about.”
“This is your last chance, you understand that, right?” He entered the house again but couldn’t look at her.
“I do, but I must understand what you want.” Gracelia gripped his biceps and forced him to face her. “Tell me honestly or you really can leave.”
&
nbsp; “I want the chance to build a new life where I’m not the asshole always taking orders. I thought that’s what you wanted help with, but you’re more interested in babying Gustavo.” He spat the name out like a rotten piece of fruit.
“Stay, then, and we can start over together.” She walked him back to the bedroom and began to take his clothes off after she’d dropped her robe.
He wanted to believe her because he didn’t want to start over with another organization. A tremor went through him that made him think of the old saying, “someone walking over his grave,” but the box of coke on the dresser dulled any anxiety and doubt. Staying was probably suicidal, but that magical white powder took the fear of that away as well.
“Sure. Why the hell not?”
Even if this ended badly, he was taking all these bastards down with him.
*
Muriel Casey drummed her thumbs on her steering wheel as she waited for the gates to Cain’s home to open. She noticed her ex-lover Shelby had already arrived, as had a new paneled van across the street. When she’d left the previous afternoon she’d noticed a large delivery vehicle with a local bread company logo painted on the side.
“Because that’s what you see parked on a street like this all the time,” she said, and laughed.
From the beginning, Cain had advised her to laugh and blow it off when it came to all this. If you let the anger build, you either got sick or had a stroke, so she’d tried to listen. Her hands and stomach tightened as she stared at Shelby’s small sedan. The government-issued SUV was either in the FBI garage or at Shelby’s house waiting for her to return to her duties.
Their breakup had been easy. She’d sent Shelby back everything that belonged to her—every gift and any correspondence between them. After that she’d insulated herself from any further contact, and eventually Shelby had taken the hint. Only now, Muriel saw her every time she had to drop by Cain’s.
They never exchanged words, and she still didn’t understand why Cain hadn’t given the order to stop her at the gate. Her cousin was smart enough to know this was another ploy for the FBI to worm their way in to where they didn’t belong. At least she thought Cain was smarter than she’d been when for a brief moment she’d considered turning her back on her family for a chance with Shelby.
Her father, Jarvis, had died thinking that she was close to that decision, and she’d have to accept the disappointment of never getting the chance to make amends. That made her chest burn from shame and had made sleep for more than a few hours at a time impossible.
“Good morning, Muriel,” said Ross Verde, Emma’s father, when she got out of her car. His shirt was stained with sweat and the knees of his pants were dirty. Cain had gladly given him a large section of the yard for a garden, and Muriel often saw him out there with Hayden and Hannah pulling weeds and checking the multitude of fruits and vegetables they were growing.
“Be careful in this humidity, Ross. Pretty soon you’ll figure out the only thing to miss about Wisconsin is the weather.”
“Cain offered to air-condition the yard for me, but considering the mild winters here I don’t mind the heat. Getting out here keeps me sane.” He wiped his forehead after storing his tools in the small shed Cain had erected for him. “I’m not one to sit around all day doing nothing.”
“You’re part owner of a successful casino now, so maybe you should learn to gamble,” she said with a laugh. “I’m glad you decided to stay.” She put her hand on his shoulder for the walk to the house via the kitchen. “Emma is happier for it, and it’s good to see Cain with in-laws.”
“I don’t know about gambling, but I’m enjoying my retirement for sure. I dreamed from Emma’s childhood of what her future would be, and now that my prayers were answered, I’m having a great time being grandpa.” He left the basket with peppers and tomatoes on the counter before joining her at the kitchen table. “How are you doing?”
“I’m fine,” she said quickly, her now-standard answer to that question.
“Cain’s my family now,” Ross said, covering her hand with his. “That means I consider you the same. It’s okay to admit that you miss your father. We didn’t have much time together, but I think of him often. I’ll be forever grateful to him for helping Emma make her way back here.”
“I do miss him,” she said, and had to swallow as a way to try to tamp down her emotions. “There was so much left unsaid between us, and that’s how it’ll stay.”
“You don’t have children yet, so let me explain a father’s perspective.” Ross seldom raised his voice, and she nodded, sensing her heart rate slow at the soothing tone with the slight Midwestern accent. “When you have a child, everyone says you pour your hopes and dreams into them from the moment you first hold them.”
“You don’t believe that?”
Ross nodded and closed his eyes momentarily. “I did as well, but along with all that sometimes you also give your child your fears, weaknesses, and insecurities. It’s easy to do, especially when, like Jarvis and me, you have only one. For so long I let my wife beat Emma down as a way to try to get some sort of vengeance for what she felt deprived of. It was easier to not fight in an effort to keep some unrealistic peace.” His eyes became glassy and his expression was one of regret.
“But you got to make it up to her,” she said.
“And you think I’m lucky because I did and you’re damned because you didn’t?”
“Death isn’t something you can undo.”
“No, but Jarvis and I shared something very special. Even if I’d never had the opportunity of coming here to enjoy my family, I knew how wonderful my daughter grew up to be. Despite my failings she’s happy and strong, and that’s what your father thought about you.”
“Thanks for saying so, Ross, but I knew my father. What I did was a betrayal not often forgiven in my family.”
“Why are you here, then? Do you come every day to simply say hello to your cousin?”
She laughed at his persistence. “No. I still work for Cain and my family.”
“No parent will ever fault you for following your heart, even if it doesn’t work out. We bleed with you when it doesn’t end how you hope, but it’s no reason to shun your child. Not unless you’re a fool, and Jarvis wasn’t a fool.” He released her hand so one of the staff could put the coffee mugs down. “If you’re here with a full briefcase every morning, that means Cain trusts you, and your supposed betrayal wasn’t as bad as what’s rolling around in your head.”
“How about in my heart?” She took a sip of her coffee, but this, like most things, didn’t taste right. Her time with Shelby seemed to have dulled all the things she liked—even something as insignificant as a cup of her favorite brew.
“You have to either decide to believe my daughter and what she told you his last words were, or not. Emma wouldn’t have lied about how much he loved you or how proud he was of you.”
“Thanks, Ross, I’m trying my best, but it’s hard on me knowing that was on his mind at the end.”
“You could waste a lot of time worrying about that, which to me means your relationship with Jarvis boiled down to the very last days of his life. What came before was of no consequence at all,” Ross said, then lifted his mug to his lips. “If that’s the road you’re on, you might miss out on a whole lot, like someone to love who’ll love you and heal all those sore spots.”
“You’re not talking about Shelby, are you?”
“I’m sure he’s not,” Emma said when she walked in and headed for the refrigerator for some juice after kissing the top of both their heads. “You need to forgive yourself so your dad knows I did a good job of getting his message across. He’s probably up there cursing me.”
“You did great. It’s just me questioning myself.” She stood to pull Emma’s chair for her. “She’s waiting again?”
“Yes, and Cain’s left her in there again.”
“This is getting ridiculous.” She thought of the hours of tape Cain had been able to get b
y bugging her house after she began to suspect Shelby’s motives. All those nights Shelby had whispered how much she loved her, and how she’d held her hand during her father’s funeral, had been part of an undercover operation. Now was the only time she regretted not having pulled the trigger to end someone’s life. She’d come close, though, to begging Cain to order Shelby eliminated.
“You’re angry, but try to think about what she’s going through,” Emma said.
“Have you forgotten what happened when that bitch’s coworkers thought Cain was to blame?”
Emma swallowed so hard Muriel thought she’d spit the juice right back up. “The seizures are gone, but no one can promise they’re gone for good, so no—I haven’t forgotten,” Emma said coldly.
When Shelby’s parents had been brutally killed in California, Shelby had been the first to lay the blame at Cain’s door. The agents she worked with weren’t far behind. They’d cornered Cain on the way to work and used unnecessary force to take her down. The results had been a severe concussion, seizures that left her disoriented and sick, and a three-week hospital stay. Muriel’s behavior had been so in question that Emma had kept her out of Cain’s room for hours, but hell, she didn’t blame her for the harsh treatment.
Had it been her lying in that hospital room she’d probably have cut Cain out of her life permanently, but Cain had welcomed her home. She’d been forgiven for her lapse in judgment and her neglect of her family. Cain had taken her word that she wanted back in and her promise to never put someone like Shelby above her blood.
“If you want, I can tell her to get the hell out of here,” she offered Emma.
“I know you would, but she’s here for Cain, so Cain will deal with it.”
“Shelby’s probably taking advantage of what happened as another way in. She’s got no honor.”
“Muriel,” Emma said with a sad smile. “You have more reason than any of us to hate her, but I truly think her grief is real.”
“Cain’s not falling for this act, is she?”