Her eyes glisten, and for a moment, she isn’t just looking at me. She’sseeingme. “I love you” is on the tip of my tongue, but I can’t say it. Something pulls me back as I look away.
“I don’t know where I belong anymore,” she whispers.
“With me.” I reach for her hand and bring it up to my lips. “You belong with me.”
_______
Life slowly goes back to normal, or what Alma and I consider to be normal. Her working the weekends atLaCuevitaand me preparing everything for Vidal’s return to the real world.
“Jefe,” I greet him.
“You’ve been avoiding me,” he replies.
When Vidal Montalvàn speaks, every word demands attention and respect. I stare through the glass at the leader of Los Antros. Even dressed in an orange jumpsuit, he carries himself with the highest level of authority. He’s notinprison, he’srunningit.
And willingly too. After a drug bust, Vidal Montalvàn accepted a thirty-year life sentence to appease his kingpin father. The notorious family runs one of the largest drug smuggling businesses through the Federal Detention Center in Texas.
“You sent the Italians to beat me and starve me for three days, sorry I didn’t call to check onyousooner.” I let my sarcasm roll off my tongue.
“Aye, Efrencito, Efrencito.” He tsks as his hardened expression moves closer to the glass separating us. “These walls breed trustworthy soldiers. When I’m at the top, and we’re confined to this hellhole, it’s easy for you to maintain that loyalty because you want to stay alive. But the outside world is different. Out there, I’ve seen the way people turn on each other.”
“I’m not like that.”
“As I’ve learned.”
Vidal will be out on parole soon enough. His home will be ready, and he will take his father’s place at the head of the Colombian Cartel. Adrian, Ricky, and I have been his minions on the outside, pulling the strings while Vidal pulls the levers from behind bars. Ricky is Vidal’s nephew and the one who will take his place on the inside. Patricio made sure, upon Vidal’s release, that Adrian would be cut loose from his ties to Vidal as the heir to Calavera Hotels. As for me? I haveno promises, no neat arrangements in place or prestigious last name to save me from my fate.
“What happens to me when you get out?” I keep my voice flat.
“What do you want to happen?” Vidal replies.
“I told you I want out.”
Silence stretches between us. He nods as if confirming something only he can see.
“You know, Savino mentioned to me you had nothing to place in front of you to really test your loyalty. But Claudi told me you’ve grown real close to one of the dancers at La Cuevita.”
Every cell in my body freezes, and I do my best to stay neutral.
Touch her, and I’ll kill you.
“Threatening women doesn’t seem like your style, Vidal,” I say with a fake calm.
He lets out a cruel laugh. “You’re done when I say you’re done.”
And just like that, he calmly places the phone onto the receiver as one of the guards on his payroll escorts him out. Standing to my full height, I slam the phone back onto the wall where it’s mounted. Outside, Adrian is waiting in the driver’s seat, and Ricky has moved to take my place in the passenger seat.
“No mames güey.” I groan when I open the side door to find the floor covered in nut roll wrappers.
We have four more stops to make before I can pick up Alma. I need to find a way out of this shit. Doing Vidal’s dirty work is starting to weigh on me.
“Everything good?” Adrian asks when we arrive outside a Mexican Market on the east end of Houston. The property belongs to the Consuelos, but they’d offered it up to Vidal as a bargaining chip for Adrian’s freedom.
“Todo bien,” I lie.
But the truth is, inside I’m rampaging. My teeth grind, and my fist clenches as I think of all the injustices I’ve had to face. Deep down, I fucking hate that Adrian has had all the resources at his fingertips because of his ties to the Consuelo family. The same resources I could have if I wanted them—if I was willing to confess to Patricio that I’m his biological son. But my pride won’t allow it.
Vidal still owns me. Patricio hates me.A mutual feeling.And somewhere in the middle of all that, I’m the bastard caught between their shadows. Alma’s right, I am fucking Bruno Madrigal for fuck’s sake. I close my eyes and picture her instead. Alma, waiting in the lot behind the club, the way her smile widens at the sight of me, the way her body molds against mine as we lay tangled in the sheets.
