Eleon also watched his grandson. “Yuñior, what are you going to do?”
“What I do best, Abuelo; I’m going to get to work,” he said, lowering his head and squaring his shoulders. His brothers followed him to the rear of the home to the office they shared here as they did in Colombia. Yuñior closed the door, locking it from outside ears. “Hermanos, we have less than a year. We are here.”
Chapter Sixteen- Welly
Three months later – El Encanto, Amazon Basin
The evening arrived like a slow-moving snake down the Amazon basin, pushing water through worn pathways of sediment leading to the small village of El Encanto. An engine, small but powerful, came to a stop and the passenger stepped off the boat onto the dock. Whispers ran amongst the men, who scattered like bugs when the lights came on. A large man, thinner around the middle, stepped outside the Quonset hut and quietly inquired about whom had arrived. A smile eked at the corners of his mouth.
“What do I owe to the pleasure of this visit from The Bocaracá?” the man asked.
“Touching base. Checking on you. It has been four months. Are you faring well?”
“Mas o menos: I’m making it work.” the man said.
“The cartel meets in four months. Are you prepared to make your case?”
“My case is made.”
“You have the numbers to back up the request?”
“Four million on one hand, two on another,” the man said.
“Ten will not bring into question your standing, five will get you in the door.”
“Right now, I’m questioning whether I should come back or stay here. It’s a good life away from prying eyes. A decent selection of women come in and out of my home. Tons of freedom. No one looking over my shoulder,” the man said.
“Shitting in a wooden box with a hole in the ground doesn’t sound much like freedom to me, but to each man his own joy. Also, having to take a bath in a river where you can be eaten alive in less than a second doesn’t sound ideal either. I see the appeal of the freedom, but it does lack the comfort of home,” Yuñior told him.
“Home. Seems like a faraway place for me. Again, Bocaracá, I’m not sure I want to come back,” Tonda told him.
“The difference is, Tonda, if you come back, you return as an equal. His equal. My equal. You’ll have a seat at the table, and you can receive your father’s ink and be a cartel head,” Yuñior said. “You will be a Czar.”
“Or I can stay my big ass out here in the jungle, unite the three villages, rein the profits under one house, and build my own empire. I then have the option to send to the cartel their share, and keep what is mine. My home is nice, and I’m adding to it. I have a vision,” Tonda told him.
Yuñior nodded, accepting his answer. Quietly he inquired, “You’re not going to ask how he is?”
“I know how he is, Bocaracá. If anyone knows how the Fer de Lance is, that would be me,” Tonda said.
“Good enough. Do you need anything?”
“An invite to the wedding,” Tonda said.
Yuñior passed him the envelope. Tonda opened it and looked inside. It didn’t list a bride. “What the hell kind of wedding invite is this? Who are you marrying?”
Yuñior smiled, lifting the corner of his mouth a bit. “Come to the wedding and see for yourself,” he said, walking down the dock and stepping back onto the boat.
TWO MONTHS LATER – Pennsylvania
The sound of the doorbell startled Brody Johnson since he had very few if any visitors. He called out to his wife Millicent that he’d get the door. He rounded the corner, looking at the security system and spotted the dark head.
“Well I’ll be damned, you actually rang the doorbell,” Brody said, opening the front door. “I have been thinking about you a lot lately.”
“Have we turned into the gay, Brody the Johnson, if so, I shall take my leave now before anything gets too weird, and I shall be forced to kill you,” Yuñior chuckled.
“Same asshole, different shirt. Get over here,” Brody said, hugging the young man. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?”
“The Lady of the Lands paid your wife for the use of her services as a chaperone for me and Irena,” Yuñior said through clenched teeth. “I’m ready to head to Dubai in a few weeks for a holiday, and I wanted to get the dates on your calendar.”
“Dubai? Really. You said chaperone, so this is not a honeymoon.” he said, quietly watching Ed’s eyes. “And the other, Diadra?”
“I’ve giving her a bit of space while I work out the details in my own life,” he offered. “I have asked a great deal of people who surround me and have not looked within to ensure the woman who shares my life is getting the better end of the deal.”
Brody’s mouth dropped open. He used the back of his hand to test Yuñior’s forehead for fever, only to receive laughter in return as his hand was pushed away.
“What kind of psychoanalyzing shrink wrap nut job got ahold of you?” Brody asked.
“A lot has happened in the past five months, Brody the Johnson. Actually, a great deal has happened in the past year, and I’m stronger and wiser, and understand better how to best use my power,” Yuñior explained. “I was born into a life which was all I’ve known. I have learned more and know more. Now, I can do more, but better.”
“Sit down and catch me up first. I need to understand what all has happened,” Brody said to the young man, who looked tired, and worn in his soul.
“No, I don’t want to talk. Can we have a beer and maybe just hang for a while?” Yuñior said.
“Just hang?”
“Si, por favor. There are so few people in my life who expect and want nothing from me. You are one of those people. My cup is empty. Can I simply sit and possibly have a friend nourish this weary soul?” he asked.
“Sit as long as you need to, Ed. I’ll get us some beers. You hungry?”
“I could eat as long as your wife didn’t do the cooking,” Yuñior said, laughing and looking at the centerpiece on the table. He thought it was supposed to be a napkin holder, but it also held the salt and pepper shaker and a jar of mustard and had toothpicks sticking out of jagged little holes. “I see your wife has returned to creating devices to worship Satan.”
“You leave my wife alone, Ed! She is working on her craft,” Brody contested.
“If the craft is making Satan feel good about his lot in Hell, she is how do you say, ah si, in the pocket,” he said, chuckling. “It feels good to laugh again.”
The sound of caps popping off of bottles raised Yuñior’s head. The eyes which were always so sure held a sadness that Brody couldn’t dismiss. He understood more than the young man could say.
“Call her. Ask if she would like to see you, Ed. Ask for a simple yes or no, and if she says yes, go with just you. Don’t bring any luggage, flowers, or candy; just you,” Brody advised.
“She deserves so much better, Brody the Johnson. In her eyes, she feels as if I made her into my whore, but I haven’t had sex with Irena,” he said, looking up at him. “We had an understanding, and she left me. She left, and I haven’t heard from her in months, and I don’t have the courage to call and have her break my heart more than it already is shattered. I’m hurting all over, and at times I can’t breathe because I miss her so much. No, I haven’t killed anybody or plucked the eyeballs out of that mutherfucker Tito with a rusty spoon, but I thought about it.”
Brody pressed his lips tightly together, feeling the anguish of the young man in love. “Where’s your phone, Ed?”
He pulled it from his jacket pocket.
“Call her right now. Ask if she wants to see you,” Brody encouraged.
Reluctantly, Yuñior unlocked the device and dialed her number. He wasn’t expecting her to answer, but she did on the third ring. She didn’t say anything into the line, and Yuñior spoke.
“I am in the U.S. Would you like to see me?”
“Yes,” Diadra replied.
“I’ll be there in two hours,” Yuñior told
her.
“See you then,” she answered and ended the call.
He looked up and was smiling. This made Brody smile as well. Brody stood up and swallowed down the beer. “I’ll make you a sandwich to take with you.”
“No, I have food on the plane. I shall get a bite then,” Yuñior said, getting to his feet. “Thank you for being my friend. I appreciate and value you for pushing me to think things through especially when I wanted to get a quick result. The lessons you have taught me will pay off in the end.”
“Ed, I’m always here if you need me,” Brody said to the young man as he walked down the front stairs to a waiting car. He spotted Gunther in the driver’s seat and a young woman with dark hair in the passenger seat when the driver got out to open the door for Yunior. Brody waved at them both.
“Good luck, kid,” Brody said, wishing him well.
“HOW THE HELL IS HE just going to call me as say he’s in the U.S. after I haven’t heard from him in five months? He’s got a helluva nerve,” Diadra said, grabbing the cleaning supplies to go over her bathroom.
It often surprised her how nasty a bathroom could get when a person lived alone and didn’t share the space with anyone. She cleaned high and low, making sure to get those knobs which covered the bolts anchoring the toilet to the floor. The dirty dishes which sat unattended in the kitchen sink were washed, and checking the time, she started dinner.
“What are you doing? You haven’t heard from him in five months, and now he calls and you’re rolling out the stops. You’re so pathetic,” she chastised herself as she picked out lacy black underwear. “Diadra Parsons, you should be ashamed of yourself for even thinking about having sexual relations with that man!”
The new black bra she found on sale that pushed her breasts up and made them look two times larger than they were, became the choice for the night. Quickly, she added rice to the rice cooker and slid the chicken into the air fryer.
“Fifteen minutes,” she said, looking at her watch. Running down the hall, Diadra started the shower, undressing quickly to scrub all the good parts. The loose tendrils of her hair delicately framed her face as she pulled the bulk of the tresses high on her head. From the closet, she grabbed a loose fitted skirt and a slouchy tee shirt. “I don’t want to look like I put in too much effort.”
Just as the timer dinged on the chicken, the chime rang at the door. Double checking herself in the mirror, she called out she was coming. Diadra peered out the peephole to see him standing at the door. Inhaling deeply to calm her nerves, she opened it.
“Hello, Ed,” she said.
“Diadra the Parsons,” he replied, walking past her into the living space. It felt like he was coming home. The couch and the painting he purchased that hung on the wall which reminded him of his Diadra were still here.
“No luggage. No Zeta. No Gunther,” she said.
He held his arms out to his sides. “No flowers, no candy, no chocolates, or jewels. All I have is me. Is that enough?”
“It has always been enough for me,” she said, “after five months...no word. Why are you here now?”
Yuñior took out his cell phone and pressed a few buttons to pull up a song. The music played, and he turned up the volume. He sat the device on the counter.
“You learned to tango, and I never got my dance,” he said, holding out his arms. Diadra stepped into the embrace, and they began to move. In his arms, all the feelings returned. Her leg lifted slowly, the rise of her thigh pressing again him, as he gently lifted her, his foot slowly sliding between the high heeled mules she wore. String hands gripped her sides as he pulled her body close, the hands slowly, inching their ways down her thighs. The readiness of the connection apparent, pressing into the softness of her belly. The emotions ran rampant, and they both stopped. She knew the look. She knew what he needed. He had but to ask, and he did. “Diadra, will you receive me?”
“Receive you?”
“May I...make love to you?”
“Why the hell are you asking? You’ve never asked before. Don’t start trying to change shit up on me now. Let’s get to it,” she said, scowling at him.
“You don’t have to tell me twice,” he said, lifting her into his arms and heading for the bedroom. Five months of yoga sessions alongside his father didn’t completely abate his hunger. His mouth trailed her thighs as he ripped off the underpants.
“Listen here Ed, you’re going to stop tearing up my panties,” she warned him.
“I’ll buy you more,” he said, going for the sweet spot and hearing her moan. He struggled with his own pants and kicked off his shoes. Anxious hands pulled at the shirt to free her breasts and the sight of the lovely brown skin, made him moan. “I missed you so much, Diadra. So much, my love.”
He moved over her, connecting their bodies, sinking into the velvet softness, and holding her tightly. His mouth found hers, kissing her passionately as their tongues dueled. She hit her first climax and clung to him.
“So good. So good,” she moaned into his ear, fueling him to quicken his pace.
“You’re mine, Diadra,” he whispered, bringing them both to a satisfying ending. Yuñior looked down at the heavy lids, sated by the passionate encounter. “I love you, and I’m working hard to put the pieces into place.”
“I understand,” she lied.
“No, not completely, but you will,” he said, touching her cheek. “I can’t stay tonight. I’m working.”
“Oh,” was all she could muster.
“Don’t worry. When I return in less than a month, we shall have all the time we need,” he said. “This is my promise. This is my vow to you.”
“You don’t owe me anything, Ed. We are this,” she reiterated.
“No, my love, we are so much more. Have faith in me. I’m coming back for you,” he said, holding her tightly. “Just give me a month.”
He held her close until his watch chimed, and he had to depart. He was reluctant to leave, and Diadra was reluctant to let him go, but both understood that the young Czar had work to do; playtime was over.
Chapter Seventeen- Effectiveness
Millicent Johnson wanted to throw Irena from the plane through the tiny closed window. She didn’t for a second understand how the young Czar would spend a lifetime with the shrew and not kill her. Initially she believed that the sexual relationship between the two is what held the handsome young man in place, but there was no form of affection between them. Finally, tired of the constant whining, Millicent faced the young woman.
“A good wife and partner knows when to speak and when to remain silent, Irena,” Millicent cautioned.
“Is that what you’ve been taught from Dull and Dotards Magazine?” Irena quipped.
“No, it is how women who are helpmates to husbands act, versus sitting there chirping like a spoiled drunken bird that fell out of the nest,” Millicent said. “You have zero social graces in understanding how to read a room. Everyone on this plane is quiet and the only sound that can be heard is your grating voice. Please, calm yourself.”
“As if I would take direction from you!” Irena scoffed.
Millicent was at her wits end. They were only an hour and a half into a seventeen-hour flight. There was no way in hell she was going to tolerate this behavior out of anyone, let alone a grown woman.
“Ed, I think it will work best for all involved if we kill her now, crash the plane, and use the seat cushions for a water landing,” Millicent said with a straight face. “I don’t know why you would think it would be a better idea to get to Dubai and tell her father she was stolen by human traffickers. That’s going to take too long.”
Irena’s eyes grew wide as she looked at Yuñior. “What is she talking about?”
Yuñior placed his finger over his lips and shook his head no at Millicent. He’d tuned out Irena the second the doors closed on the plane. The weeklong holiday was only to put the final irons in the fire and close it all up.
“You’re not going to let her talk to me like t
his are you, Yuñior?” Irena pleaded.
“Are you going to prattle on the whole trip?”
“Oh, so I can’t talk to you while we fly?”
“Irena, it is a 17-hour flight. Are you seriously planning to talk for 17 fucking hours?” He asked, shocked at her inability to adjust her stance.
“If I feel like it! What are you going to do about it?” she asked like a petulant child.
Yuñior, unfazed by her antics, reached for the intercom to speak to his pilot. “Please turn the plane around and take us back to Miami,” he instructed.
Irena’s eyes were wide as the pilot confirmed the request. “Yuñior, you can’t be serious! You can’t really be turning the plane around and heading back to Miami.”
“I refuse to torment my friends with your childish behavior. I have tried everything I could over the past year to teach, guide, and help you transform into the woman I need at my side, but you’re just the worst,” Yuñior said. “The idea of you being the mother of my children makes me want to neuter myself. Irena, I’m sorry, but I don’t like you.”
“You’re treating me like this because we aren’t sexually intimate,” Irena chirped at him, poking out her lips. “If you weren’t so busy fucking that New Yorker, maybe we could have been more.”
“We’re not sexually intimate because my cock doesn’t like you either,” he said, feeling bad for the brutal honesty.
Brody spoke up, clearing his throat as he felt the plane turn going back to Miami. “Ed, you’re being a little hard on her. She’s just excited about getting in this much time with you.”
“No, Brody the Johnson, Irena is spoiled, entitled, and self-centered. She hasn’t given one thought to what the trip may mean to you and your wife or what this trip may mean to me. Instead, she focuses as always on herself. When we return to Colombian airspace, I shall contact my father and tell him I’m breaking the contract.”
Her mouth grew wide.
“You can’t do that!”
“I can do that, and I will,” he said adamantly.
Becoming the Czar Page 20