We haven't had a job like this since high school. Since I froze and couldn't finish the job.
Sure, I've hardened since then. Sure, I've done enough to make myself feel like a different man. But some things don't leave you. Some things stay buried until the right words dig them back up.
As they keep talking, my heartbeat gets louder than their voices.
Another assassination attempt?
The only thing I really hear is the amount they're offering.
I look at Dad and nod.
The men hand over a list of notes for the hit, as vague as possible, before finally leaving.
I glance at the clock. Two hours gone.
As soon as I hear their car pull away, I look at my dad.
"Think you can do it, Mijo?" he asks, still thinking about the money.
"I don't know." I pause. "But you know who probably could? And we'd still get a cut for organizing?"
"Who?"
"Diego," I say.
"No."
"Dad."
"I said no, Mijo."
He starts walking away, but I don't chase him.
"Dad. He needs the money. They need the money. Aunt Val isn't getting any better. This would give them a chance at stability again. A chance at peace."
He stops. Turns back. Stares at me for a long moment.
I give a small shrug.
"And Diego would do anything for her. It would make sure the job gets done this time."
He weighs it. I can see him doing the math. The money. The risk. The favor.
Then, finally, he nods.
"Fuck. Okay."
My mouth quirks into a smirk, but there's no real humor in it.
"Let him know. You finish organizing this. I can't be a part of that."
"I understand, Dad."
I turn and head to my room, already pulling out my phone to call my cousin.
CHAPTER 23
RAUL
