Lena and I have our first fight as a couple. It's two days after we talk, start laying out a plan. We're in the kitchen eating warm tortillas with scrambled eggs and pico de gallo. It's all I know how to cook. Lena can't cook at all. She says cold cereal counts as cooking and I disagree. Cold cereal does not count as cooking.But that's not what the fight is about.The staff are gone – a paid week off. All told to leave. No one is in the house but the two of us. Lena is naked except for a T-shirt of mine. It swamps her, but I think it makes her feel safe and I'm fine with that. It's a stamp of ownership for me that she's dressed in my clothes, even if it's for my eyes only or maybe because. Maybe it's her subtle way of submitting to me.Right now, Lena and I are at a crossroads. She's in the kitchen because the staff are away. She rarely leaves the bedroom and only for short periods of time when the house is empty. She's uncomfortable with her new status as my woman and I haven't ye
Next, I call Tom. "Arturo is coming back. We have a meeting tomorrow to discuss his role in my father's death. I think he's aware he is being accused so there's no point in him being coy anymore. Word is that he will attempt an assault tonight rather than face me tomorrow. It hasn't been easy to ferret the information out, but I can be persuasive."Tom is excited. "Good, I hope that shit gets what's coming to him."I smile as I stare into Lena's eyes. "He will. The men loyal to me will take him alive. Leave him for me, when the time is right. He doesn't know that I know about the planned assault. He thinks it'll be a cakewalk."Then Tom says the words I've been waiting for. "How can I help?""I might need to take you up on your generous offer to shelter me. We're ready but things sometimes go sideways. I might need to run for my life." I pause as I think. "And if you can spare some manpower, to lend a hand in the house, to fend off the assault, that would be appreciated."Tom does
I walk confidently next to Luis. I try not to watch him but keep an eye on our surroundings instead, scanning the area as we walk up the drive to Tom' home. Luis says he's worried about me, but I'm terrified for him. Luis is the target. Not me, not his men, just him. We might be considered collateral damage in a war between cartels, but the fact is, if Luis falls, his regime falls.I breathe deep and force myself to channel the old Lena. The one who could think like a machine, act like a machine, be a machine. Turn the emotions off and react when necessary. There are two men walking in front of us, Emiliano and another. I take a few steps away from Luis, back and to the side. A better position to protect from attack if I need to. Luis frowns questioningly at me. I shake my head. We're too close to the mansion for conversation now. He just needs to trust me.Luis gives me a stern look and then faces forward, striding toward Tom, who is standing on his doorstep, a tight smile stretchin
Tom' hand falls from the desk and he stares at me with loathing. Unable to help myself, I smirk back. He's trapped in a box of his own making, there's nothing he can do now. Still he tries to plead with Luis, his gaze softening to confusion as it swings back to my lover. "Why are you doing this, son? I've given you my home, my protection. I even gave you my son, Roberto, as a sign on good faith."Luis stands, his body going from a supposedly relaxed position, uncoiling like a viper, tension and cold fury running though him. This man is the boss of an entire cartel, beautiful, majestic and lethal. And he belongs to me. Pride blossoms in my chest as I watch him face his nemesis."I am not your son, Garcia. I never was. You killed the only father I have in a dirty warehouse where I was meant to be next." Tom opens his mouth as though to deny the accusation. Luis cuts him off. "Your time is over. Don't insult both of us by pleading. Keeping you and your sons alive, even this long, is mor
We take the spoils of the war back to my territory. Renaldo, hands secured behind his back. I tell Emiliano to take him down to the cells where Tom' other son is secured and wait for me there. I tell Lena to go to our room and I meet Arturo in the study, alone. He looks solemn. "I didn't know –" he starts, but I cut him off."You're a fuck up, Arturo. Always out for a good time. Want to drink and fuck around. Forgetting about your responsibilities."Arturo glares at me. "Not always. I got to the warehouse in time.""In time for what? How the hell did you even know to come to the warehouse?""Old man Garcia told me where you were…" Then he stops. "Fuck.""Funny how that works out. Tom set you up too. If not for Lena, you'd be dead as well.""No." Arturo shakes his head. He doesn't want to be indebted to Lena.I wonder briefly if his parents were cousins, he's so goddamn fucking slow. "Tom knew about Lena. Did you know? But he underestimated her. Like you did. Like I did. Fuck. So
"Arturo."I approach the man laboriously and try to climb onto the seat next to him. He's sitting at the bar in my and Luis' home, waiting for my husband who is currently out on business. Arturo heaves an annoyed sigh and gets up to help me onto the stool. He acts like this is a grievous task, when we both know he can't wait for the arrival of baby Manuel (or Manuela as I have argued is a possibility). His hands are gentle as he lifts me onto the stool and makes sure that I'm steady before dropping back onto his own chair.He eyes me suspiciously as he sips at his drink; I think it's a gin and tonic since its clear and I've never known Arturo to willingly drink water. "What do you want?" His voice is gruff though his eyes soften as they dip toward my prominent belly.Arturo and I have developed an understanding. We don't have to like each other, but we both care about the same man, the well-being of this family and the entire cartel. In that, we acknowledge that we are stronger toge
Andres.Warmth hits my veins like sex after a long, agonizing dry spell. I take a breath, feeling the air rush through my lungs. Is it my imagination or is the air newer, fresher than the dank shit that was in here only moments ago? I sip at it like a man starving and lean back in the lounge chair, draping my arms over the side. I look at my left arm, at the needle sticking straight out from the vein. I think about reaching over to flick the used needle away, but my eyes catch on the tattoos surrounding the metal prick.Luna.Her name is a swirl of colour in the bleak wasteland of cartel tats that proclaim my place, my superiority within the organization run by family. Los Zetas. The most feared cartel in Mexico and beyond. And I am among the elite within this vast army of underworld thugs. These marks upon my body are trophies of war, my right of passage. Lost innocence. Except for Luna. The one mark I had written over and over; on my arms, my legs, my neck and over my heart. M
"Mama, when are we going home?"I stop, my hand on the light switch. I take a breath and look over my shoulder at my four-year-old son, such a miniature replica of his father that my heart aches. Except this time, instead of a happy ache I feel an agonizing wrench. I blink back the tears, not wanting him to see my distress, and try to find my voice."We might stay here for a while, cari?o," I tell him, keeping my voice steady. "I'm not sure yet." It depends on whether or not your papá can find us. I go back to the bed and give him an extra kiss, pressing his small body against mine, absorbing his warmth and taking in his unique babyish scent, grateful he hasn't lost it yet. Soon he'll be bigger, will not want his mama to hold him so close and embarrass him with affection. Then I will have to settle for showering his younger sister with my love. I press my lips against his forehead and help him snuggle back under the blankets."I miss papá," he says sleepily, smothering a yawn agai