“Jasper,” Silas says, waving lazily between us. “This is Ricky and Efren. They work for Vidal. I’m sure you’ll cross paths soon enough.”
I nod in greeting. Jasper nods back before slamming the shot in front of him.
“So, what’d you do this time?” he asks.
“I almost shot at Patricio Consuelo. And you know why? Cause of this fool!” Silas announces loudly.
“This fool saved me,” Silas’s voice fills the entire bar as he throws an arm around my shoulders and yanks me in tight. I stiffen, trying to peel myself out of his sweaty embrace. “He saved myfucking life!”
“Wait? Did you really?” Ricky asks, his chismoso ass never one to turn down a good story.
“Tell him the story, Pa,” Silas slurs, his body swaying to the side. “Tell them how ju saved my life.”
“Why the fuck are you screaming, dawg?” I say, and that does it—he bursts out laughing, loud enough to turn heads.
“Gente de rancho.” I shake my head, glancing across the bar at Ricky, Jasper, and a few other guys who’ve slowly migrated over.
“Okay, okay, cholo,” Silas says, waving me off. “You don’t wanna tell it,Iwill.”
He clears his throat dramatically, like he’s about to give a TED Talk.
“I was in solitary confinement when this fucker”—he jabsa finger into my chest—“would come by every day with the food cart. One day, I tell him, ‘Hey, you think you could get a message out for me?’”
Silas pauses, waiting for a dramatic effect, and I sigh as he holds me there in a headlock.
“Two weeks later?” He spreads his arms wide. “Aurelio busted me out.”
I catch myself on the bar when he drops me, and the floor looks like it’s spinning. Silas crosses himself, kisses his rosary, and points to the sky. As expected, absolutely no one is impressed with the story.
Silas turns and wraps his other arm around Jasper.
“And this guy, man, this guy’s a fucking brother to me.”
“Get the fuck off me,” Jasper growls, but Silas only tightens his headlock.
“Jasper’s a little uptight,” Silas whispers loudly. “He’s a P.P.I.”
Every drunk in the room laughs—myself included—until Alma flashes through my mind.
“You’re a dick,” Jasper mumbles, pushing Silas off him.
“Oh shit,” I say, sobering just enough. “Are you really a private investigator?”
A private investigator could solve a lot of problems in my love life right now. Maybe if Alma could just get the right information, then I could convince her to finally leave this hellhole.
“I was,” Jasper says flatly. “Now I just use my skill set for the club.”
“If you ever need a P.P.I., he’s the best,” Silas slurs. “Here—I’ll send you his contact info right now.”
Silas staggers up to the stage and grabs the karaoke mic. He starts singing everyChentesong in the jukebox off-key while Ricky dances with a woman old enough to be hisgrandma. It buys me a few moments of privacy to explain to Jasper about Alma’s situation before the doors slam open.
The devil herself storms in, wearing eight-inch Louboutins. Thalia snatches the empty bottle of Don Julio off the bar, and marches straight toward the stage.
Silas’s eyes go wide.
“Oh shit,” he mutters into the mic.
Right before she breaks the bottle over his head.
