The thing is, I can’t just stroll up and start asking questions. Even if I weren’t me, that would be dangerous, and stupid. Because Iamme, it’s even trickier to get answers.
I’ve had exactly zero contact with the cartel in any form in fifteen years. To be fair, I didn’t know I was having contact with them back then, being an infant and all. But after that day, I moved in with my aunt, and was removed completely from that world. I spent a lot of years looking over my shoulder, sleeping with one eye open and all. Fearing that the man in white would return to finish the job.
El Marfil. Or as I’ve come to know him…
El diablo.
After a while, I realized that wasn’t going to happen. He’d left me alive for a reason…
Hewantsme to come for him.
And not that I want to prove him right, or play into his blood-stained hands, but the need in me to avenge my parents is far tooinsistent to ignore. After all he’s taken from me, Ideserveto take his life.
It’s my birthright.
The Ivory is smart. Part of my training was to learn everything there was to know about Manuel Blanco. Admittedly, gathering details wasn’t easy. Google only gets you so far, and when it comes to a Cartagena-born psychology student turned cartel enforcer who was only twenty-six when he took over ashead honcho, you won’t find anything of significance online.
It took a lot of effort to locate even the most minor of details. What Ididfind was that he is educated. And cunning…He’d have to be, to slaughter the leader of the cartel and take over the way he did.
Coming for him won’t be as easy as just slipping past some security and taking him out while he’s sleeping. I’ve thought a lot about this over the years, and yet I’m sort of flying by the seat of my pants here.
I suppose part of my plan is to not have a plan.Because when man plans, el diablo laughs.
Se listo.I have tobe smarthere. The last thing I want is for him to see me coming, whether he suspects it or not, and cartel people are rats. It’s just a fact. If someone finds out I’m here at all, let alone sniffing around, they won’t hesitate to dime on me. They’re all itching to tellel jefewhat they know so that he doesn’t think they were hiding something.
These people could be in Cirque du Soleil, being completely spineless and all.
I’m choosing to stuff down my disdain for the cartel as I walk past the restaurant on Amsterdam. Scouting the place first is a must.If I’m successful in killing The Ivory, I might seriously consider putting together a heist, because I’ve got a real knack for this stuff.
Comes back to that patience. Thinking things through, always being aware of everything around you.
“Ojos abiertos, boca cerrada, pajarito,”the voice echoes in my mind.
Eyes open, mouth shut.
Wrath coils around my insides, but I breathe and focus. Let itleadme in my objective. I might be hunting the deadliest game, buthemight not be as smart as he thinks he is.
Because he underestimated the will of the scared little boy he left in that closet.
I’m not that boy anymore.
And I’mnotafraid of him.
Thankfully, it’s a nice day to be strolling around Manhattan because I’ve been walking for a while. Getting eyes on these places, who’s coming and going. A couple spots end up being dead ends, but there are a few that seem promising. Still, I’ve yet to find any sign of my sister. Or The Ivory.
Eventually, I call it a day, dragging my despondent self into a nearby cafe. My mood is on the lethargic side, but I’m never too tired or sad for an iced matcha latte with strawberry banana cold foam.
Seriously, this thing is like a mood boost. I sit, sipping, in a seat by the window. Staring and contemplating every decision I’ve ever made. Each step I’ve taken, from that day when I was three to right here and now, in Manhattan, days before my eighteenth birthday.
All that time… and I’m still alone.
No family. No friends.
No childhood, and no joy. I havenomemories of laughter or smiles; holidays and celebrations with my family. The things I can remember have long since faded over time, because I was so young.
But thereisone I’ll never forget. One memory that hasn’t faded, that I still see as clearly as the day it happened… Branded onto my brain.
That’s what he took from me. More than just killing my parents right in front of my face, and stealing my sister—my other half—hestolemy innocence.
