Los Zetas Cartel Collection (3 book series)

by AJ Adams

  There’s no point in trying to get people to change, so I didn’t even try. Instead, I focused on fixing a possible feud. “Mateo, Solitaire didn’t mean it.”

  “Sure. I know that.” The reply was automatic. Mateo was fuming.

  “Listen, Escamilla was holding her against her will.” I outlined the circumstances and heard him sigh. “So you see, it wasn’t personal.”

  “Oh, Jesus, Arturo! I had no idea!”

  “Yeah, it sucks.”

  That was Mateo dealt with, but ten minutes later I got a text: it was a picture of Solitaire, sporting a shiner and sitting in a cage. It was inevitable; I’d been expecting something like this. Escamilla would have taken pictures and sent them to his friends. Now Solitaire was my girl, everyone would be dying to see them.

  It was infuriating, but pretending it was unimportant would kill the thrill of them faster than anything else. I deleted it, as well as the other dozen clips that came after, all of them showing Solitaire having a fucking awful time. I wished I could take Escamilla out all over again, but knowing he had gone screaming helped me keep it together. I congratulated myself on the fact that at least Solitaire didn’t know – I know, I know. I’m an idiot. I should have known that she’d get them too, but in my defence, she’s damn good at hiding her feelings.

  Anyway, I didn’t know, and as I’m also good at ignoring bad shit, I drank with my family, caught up on the gossip, and when dusk fell, the younger kids dossed down in the den in front of Frozen, and the dancing started. Solitaire was soon giggling away as Chumillo showed her his best moves. As he’s famous for having two left feet, everyone else gave them plenty of space.

  In the meantime, Loli was giving me hell. “Arturo, Tina’s cousin Delia is coming for a visit. She’s a lawyer and beautiful –”

  “Loli, I’ve got a girl. I’m serious about Solitaire.”

  “The English fea?”

  “Don’t be like that!”

  “I hear she was with José.”

  The way she said it, Loli knew exactly what Solitaire had gone through. And she was blaming my girl for being a victim. “Loli, you were taken once. You were lucky and were found fast. Solitaire was not.”

  Loli dropped her eyes and came back fighting. “I heard she’s got a mental problem.”

  “What?”

  “She’s gone crazy, right? Doesn’t know who she is?”

  “She was electrocuted! It’ll come back!”

  “She won’t tell you if it does,” Loli said darkly. “I hear she was a topless manicurist in Amsterdam. And then she went to Tétouan with some Spanish mafioso!”

  I had to laugh; this is exactly what Solitaire had predicted.

  “Why not get a whole girl? A decent girl?” Loli wailed.

  “Come on, Loli. Be nice.”

  Julia moaned as well but after a token complaint, she turned to her own problems. “Arturo, Chava has a woman. A stripper, for heaven’s sake!”

  That was surprising. Salvador, Chava to his friends, is a straight-up guy. As far as I know, he’s only ever had eyes for Julia. “Are you sure, querida?”

  Julia began to cry. “She came to the house, Arturo! Her name is Miriam, and she showed me pictures of her and Chava!”

  That was a problem. “Have you spoken to him?”

  “Yes! He says I’m to mind my own business!” Julia was in floods now. “Arturo, I have three children to bring up!”

  “If you want to kick him out, you’ll have all the help you need. You know that.”

  “I don’t want him out! I want a husband and a father for my children,” Julia sniffed.

  “I’ll talk to him.”

  “Put the fear of God into him, Arturo. I want him back, but I don’t want this to happen over and over again.”

  I knew exactly where Julia was coming from. In the cartel there’s so much free pussy available that it’s inevitable that the men screw around. The women know it, but as long as it’s not paraded publicly, they pretend it doesn’t happen. Of course, every now and again there’s a chupita who throws a spanner in the works by confronting the wife. Some wives walk away, but most have kids so they try to fix things. When it goes right, the man stays clean or at least picks more discrete girls to fuck around with. When it goes wrong, the wife is caught up in an endless cycle of having every bit of pussy flung in her face.

  “Julia, this won’t happen to you. Be certain of that.”

  She was grateful but not convinced about Solitaire. “A girl who was with José Escamilla? Surely you can do better than that? I hear she was in jail for theft when she was just fifteen!”

  “Please try to be nice.”

  “For you, Arturo.” But it didn’t come from the heart.

  Next I had Alexa, my mother’s cousin’s youngest daughter, wanting me to meet her new novio, an American kid, Seth Richardson from Oklahoma. Alexa is studying Applied Mathematics at SDSU, and she met him there during a football game. He was all blond hair and freckles, a typical clean-cut American kid, and from the look of Alexa, she was smitten.

  “I’m on a sports scholarship, golf,” Seth was grinning. “My major is geology.”

  “Sounds great!”

  Five minutes later I wasn’t as impressed. Seth had opted for hydrogeology, something I’ve been looking into recently, but he wasn’t doing well.

  “I didn’t think it would involve this much math,” he complained. “I’m thinking of switching to paleogeology, ‘cause I hear it’s easier.”

  I wondered what Alexa saw in this loser. She’s intelligent, fun and pretty, so she could get anyone she wanted. Why pick a lazy bum like Seth? I didn’t say anything, though. I was certain she’d see soon enough there were better choices.

  But Alexa is bright, and she knew what I was thinking. She asked Seth to get her a beer, and the second he was out of sight, she was at me. “You don’t like him!”

  “He’s young.”

  “Oh come on! Is it because he’s Jewish?”

  I began laughing. “No Alexa! It’s because he takes the easy way out. He’s not good enough for you.”

  Alexa wasn’t laughing. “I know he’s soft,” she said, “but you’ve no idea how hard it is for me to get a date.”

  “You? Are you crazy? You’re smart, funny, a looker –”

  “And a math major,” Alexa moaned. “The second the guys hear that, they’re off!”

  “There will be one who isn’t afraid of brains.”

  “And that’s Seth,” Alexa replied.

  “Querida, there will be others, trust me.”

  Alexa shrugged. “Maybe you’re right. But Seth is good fun, you know? I really like him.”

  “Then that’s good enough for me.” I was lying, but what could I say? She’s young, and so she’ll do a few frogs before meeting a prince. It’s inevitable. And if Seth was a toad, her family would deal with him. I’d make sure of it.

  “Seth was dying to meet you, he talked about nothing else all the way over, so be kind.”

  “Always, cariña.”

  I meant to, but it didn’t work out. I was in the middle of a conversation about Songbird with Kyle, Quique, Pedro Rojo and Rafa when Seth sat down at our table. There’s an unwritten rule that only the senior staff sit at my table, but at a family party there’s lots of give and take, especially with outsiders, so we just shelved the conversation and made nice.

  Seth was a bit on edge, and it took me a second to realise he was totally amped. That wasn’t good. I sell coke and occasionally have a party toot, but I don’t want my family fucking around with the stuff. Call me a hypocrite if you like, but you won’t find the tobacco barons encouraging their kids to smoke, and I’m the same.

  Apart from everything else, a family party is not the place to get high. We drink, but we leave bouncing powder and hookers for business parties. It was bad enough to have the bonus girls dropping by – if the women figured out Seth was high, I’d get an earful that would last till Christmas. My house, you see, so it w
ould be my fault.

  I decided I would send Seth on his way the very next day, and put my sisters to work finding a couple of suitable dates for Alexa, but it wasn’t worth taking immediate action. Throwing him out would embarrass Alexa and spoil the party.

  The men had seen what I’d seen, and they knew what I was thinking, but when I didn’t say anything, they knew I would hold off. We’re tight, you see. So they looked, and then Rafa was making small talk about San Diego, a city he knows well, when Seth cut him off. “I was wondering about job opportunities here,” he said to me.

  “Loads, for hydrogeologists,” I told him. “Water is one of our essential resources, and if we’re going to expand our industrial base, we’re going to have to drill.”

  “I like the idea of desalination,” Rafa mused. “A factory by a port offers plenty of advantages. Look at Singapore!”

  “Solar stills are better,” Pedro Rojo argued. “Desalination will affect fishing. Stills prevent pollution and give us sea salt to use in our factories.”

  As they wrangled, Seth looked on open-mouthed. “I meant a job,” he repeated. “With the cartel.”

  There was a dead silence and then Quique laughed. “You’re not an undercover cop are you?”

  Seth looked offended. “Of course not!”

  “You shouldn’t believe all the stories you hear about Mexico,” Kyle said kindly. “Not everyone works for a cartel.”

  “Except politicians,” Pedro Rojo laughed.

  Seth wasn’t having it. “I know who you are,” he maintained. “Why don’t you just admit it?”

  We kept kidding him, and Seth got madder and madder.

  “Look,” he finally snapped. “I got Alexa to bring me here because I need a job. I’ve got skills, you know!”

  The second he said it, we were looking at him in quite a different way. We all love Alexa, and we don’t take kindly to our girls being used.

  “I thought you were dating,” Quique frowned.

  “Well, yeah. Sure.”

  As an answer it sucked big-time.

  “Considering you’re flunking college, I’d say you have no skills,” I heard myself say. I finished my beer and gave him my nastiest smile. “There’s no place for you here. Cut your visit short and go home.”

  Kyle was frowning at him. “And quit the blow. In fact, quit seeing our cousin.”

  We all stared at him, and he finally got the message. As he fucked off, Quique spat. “Que puto!” It was a sentiment we all shared.

  “Want me to send him back over the border?” Rafa asked.

  “Do it tomorrow.”

  “First thing, he’s gone.”

  “Kick the capullo’s ass while you do it.” Quique makes Neanderthal man seem feminist, but it goes hand in hand with a determination to protect, and so he has a special loathing for men who treat women badly. He’s a good man, Quique. He’s married to Kyle’s cousin Tina, and he takes great care of her.

  It was getting too heavy. “Come on, let’s go dance with the girls!”

  Solitaire was now dancing with one of my younger nephews while the older boys were looking on, their eyes glued to her rack, so I went to claim her and made them all jealous as hell.

  Then Kyle and Chloe announced they had set a date, and the party went stellar. Loli was mellow enough not to make a fuss when Carlos danced with the bonus girls, and no fewer than three people fell in the pool during a conga that cut a corner a shade too finely.

  In fact, it was turning into the best blast we’d had in months when that idiotic boyfriend of Alexa’s got on the floor. He had clearly taken a bump, and he began pawing Solitaire. She moved back and said something, and he made another grab for her. When Solitaire removed his hands from her ass, he took hold of her wrists and began kissing her. I was six feet away and moving fast to the rescue when she pulled away, and then it was Seth squealing as she twisted his arm up his back.

  Suddenly everything stopped, and we were all looking at them. Seth was white and coming down fast. I think he suddenly realised what might happen to him.

  “I said, hands off,” Solitaire hissed. “Now back off, or I’ll break your arm.”

  “Sorry! Jesus! I just wanted to dance. What’s the big deal?”

  “Sirena, why don’t you dance with Ricky?” I was red hot with rage and reminding myself I couldn’t kill the fucker in front of the family.

  “Hey!” Alexa came running over, her face white. “Seth? You okay?”

  Solitaire let him go and pushed him towards Alexa. In the same move she put herself between me and him, and then she took my hands. “Not now,” she said softly. Solitaire has small wrists but she had a good grip on me. Her eyes were sending a cerulean message. “Let Alexa manage him and come dance with me.”

  I knew everyone was waiting with baited breath to see what would happen next. Rage and visions of vengeance warred in my heart. Then I took a breath; no point in ruining the party for a couple of kisses and a bit of ass grabbing. “Sure, sirena. Come show me your best moves.”

  Everyone breathed again, Alexa took Seth away, and we all resumed partying. I acted like it was all over, but I saw Chumillo and Rafa go after Alexa. They’d escort them both back safely to her mom’s place or persuade her to let them drive the kid home. Either way, she was safe.

  As for the boy, I’d deal with him later. A broken arm for starters, and he’d lose those nice, white teeth his parents had bought him. It would be a warning of what happened to people who upset my Solitaire. But it could wait until he was back in his own home. I didn’t want to upset Alexa.

  Solitaire rubbed herself against me as we danced, and I instantly had a truncheon in my shorts. “You deserve a treat for being so forbearing,” she whispered in my ear. “I’m feeling a little naughty. Let’s finish this party with a smacking.”

  The truncheon began to throb and I had the instant vision of her on the cross, wailing for me to fuck her. If there hadn’t been dozens of people around us, I would have thrown her on the grass and taken her. Luckily I have lots of self-control, and we didn’t disgrace ourselves in front of the kids.

  While we danced, the barbecue was relit, and everyone got in the mood for a little chorizo and tequila finish. That’s when Alexa and Seth returned, with her looking thin-lipped with determination and him looking sulky.

  “Seth wants to apologise,” Alexa announced. “He’s leaving in the morning so we thought we’d swing by first.”

  What can you say? Seth mumbled a half-hearted apology, and Solitaire smiled and said something about party fever.

  “I left my sunglasses here,” Alexa said. “Let me just go get them.”

  She peeled off, and I was distracted by Pyotr saying goodbye. “Terrific party, Arturo. Best ever.” He shook my hand, gave me the half Nelson Russians always give each other, and said quietly, “I’ll miss you, Arturo. You’ve made me a fucking fortune in the last few months. But hey, that Solitaire is quite a package. Congratulations!” Then he was off, yelling cheerful goodbyes in Russian, French and Portuguese. Pyotr speaks six languages, usually in one sentence, and I often think he’s forgotten his native tongue. Maybe he hasn’t got one.

  When I turned back to Solitaire, she was picking up a drink and frowning at Seth, who was leaving. “He’s high as a kite,” she said worriedly. “I don’t want to interfere, Arturo, but that boy’s a total tosser. You should ask your sisters to find someone better for Alexa.”

  “Just what I was thinking.”

  “Good.” Solitaire gulped her drink. “That chorizo is delicious but salty,” she said. “A tonic is just the thing. You know, Arturo, that this tastes quite different from the stuff in England? It’s much more bitter.”

  The party was winding down, and as people began gathering up kids and leaving, the late stayers hung out chatting on the terrace.

  I was standing by the gate, waving goodbye to Loli when Chumillo popped up. “Boss, something’s wrong.”

  My heart dropped in my shoes. “Alexa? Has t
hat fucker –?”

  “No, it’s Solitaire.”

  I ran back to the house, and as I came round the corner, I heard Solitaire laugh. It wasn’t her usual giggle; this was loud, high and hysterical.

  Solitaire was sitting in my chair, white-faced, shaking and talking and laughing uncontrollably. Chloe was sitting next to her, holding her hands and nodding reassuringly. When she saw me, she looked up. “Here’s Arturo,” she said gently. “Talk to Arturo, okay?”

  Solitaire laughed again, a grating sound that made my hair stand up on end. “I see him in mirrors. In mirrors and in windows. Wherever there’s a reflection. Do you think that’s where hell is? In mirrors? Maybe he’s there waiting for me. If I break one, he might reach out and grab me.”

  “No, I said forcefully. “He’s gone, Solitaire. Forever.” I held her hands. “Come on, sirena. Come sit with me a second.”

  I was talking calmly, willing her to relax, but my heart was busy pounding its way out of my chest. I remembered her downing that drink and saying it was bitter; it had been spiked.

  While I was holding Solitaire, listening to her babble about Escamilla and her mother coming at her from reflections, Kyle was on the phone. “I’ve no idea,” he was saying. “It looks like an amphetamine rather than a psychedelic. Yes, involuntary ingestion, that’s what I said.” He paused. “Thanks. We’ll be there in twenty.”

  He stood up. “Arturo, she’s got to get rid of what’s left in her stomach.”

  Chloe stood up, quickly stirred a heap of salt into a glass of coke and handed it to me. “I’ll go find a bucket.”

  Solitaire was chatting away, totally disconnected from everything around her. “I feel him sometimes,” she said. “I can feel his ribs. Isn’t that weird? Don’t know who I am, but he sticks with me.”

  “Drink this,” I told her.

  Solitaire kept gabbling nervously. “I think I’m haunted.”

  Kyle moved forward. “Hold her arms, Arturo.”