Page 5 of High

I patted him on the cheek—hard. He winced. Arlo was six years younger than me, the same age as Manny, and was born in the US. He had no memories of what our early life had been like in Mexico, not like I did, and his lack of experience meant he’d only ever lived in the lap of luxury. So when he made stupid comments like this, I wanted to kick his ass.

“Who’s in charge, hermanito?”

“You are,” Arlo whispered. “But, Jefe—”

“You don’t get a say in this. It’s my decision, and I know what’s at risk. You will hold the fort until I return, do you understand?”

He bowed his head toward me and fell back in his seat. “Yes, Jefe. I want Manny home as much as you do.”

“Good.” I turned back to the other men and straightened my shoulders. “We leave next week. Make sure everything is ready. Rafael, you mentioned the border patrol that’ll help us get through that estúpida wall. Is he still on board?”

Rafael nodded. “Yes, Jefe. I confirmed it again today. He’ll get us through a hole in the wall near Tijuana. That’ll get us the best route to Manny’s home without going through any checkpoints that someone might be watching.”

“Is there a reason we don’t go underground?” Isaac asked with a frown, running his hand over his shaved blond hair. “The route near Tecate could work.”

“We’ll come back through there unless something goes wrong,” Rafael said, glancing at him. “Entering the States a different way will make us less predictable in case Antonio finds Manny gone before we get over the border. Miguel will be waiting for us with cars if we keep to the plan. We’ll travel in different directions back from Baja.”

I nodded, stroking my chin. “Makes sense.”

“But once Antonio knows Manny’s gone, he’ll want to get him back.” Arlo’s jaw tightened, and I studied him carefully. He and Manny had gotten along fine when they were teens. They weren’t best friends, but they hadn’t hated each other, either. As far as I was concerned, Arlo wasn’t a threat, because if he had been, I would have taken him out, brother or not. “He knows where you live, Thiago.”

“Exactly,” I agreed. “Antonio also knows what a stronghold we have here. His assets are in Mexico, so the chances of him moving enough men to cause problems is slim. We’ll double our security if need be, but we’re safe. He won’t risk a war on our home turf.”

“If a man’s desperate, he’ll risk anything,” Axel said. He had his arms crossed, but that was usual for him. Most of the time he looked like he’d rather rip someone’s head off than talk. Axel was the oldest out of all of us, and at forty, he’d fought alongside Papá before he stood at my side. His age showed with his gray-infused black hair and the exhaustion lines around his eyes. He had a slightly bent nose from a fistfight with a sicario. “Antonio lost his wife all those years ago. Who knows what he’ll do when his son is taken from him?”

“Then we’ll be ready for the retaliation, if it comes to that.” I stood and the others followed me. I stared around at them and inclined my head. “This is happening, so let’s make sure it’s done smoothly.”

They nodded, aware of the dismissal I’d given them, and started to filter out of the room. Rafael stayed behind, though, and when the others had left, he cleared his throat and stepped closer.

“I managed to talk Santi around to setting up a meeting with Odin, the president of his club. You met with him last year, remember?”

I hummed. Santiago was our cousin, and unlike us, who went into the family business of drug production and distribution, Santi chose to become a biker for a club just north of us, the Norse Lords MC. His mother, María, was another sister of my father. “How did you do that?”

Santiago hated drugs and made a point of keeping away from us since he’d run off to Pleasant Beach, but as far as I was concerned, you couldn’t escape blood.

Rafael snorted. “I told him that his president would be pissed if he passed on a deal that could make the Lords a lot of money, without consulting him first.”

I shook my head. “Why do we need them? Pleasant Beach is a big city, but one location isn’t going to break us.”

“Odin has a flawless network. He’s Switzerland—neutral without enemies. His hands are wriggling in all the cookie jars we want to stick ours into, and if we get into bed with him, he could set us up in places we haven’t managed to get near.”

“We’ve got most of the West Coast and the Southeast. Your brother is handling Miami.”

Rafael shook his head. “If Killough finds out Joaquin’s in Miami, he’s going to be mad, Jefe. He thinks Miami belongs to him.”

“We’ll handle that when it happens. For now we focus on getting Manny home and doing a deal with Odin. Have you heard from the Russians?” I straightened my black suit jacket and gestured for Rafael to start heading toward the door. He followed me out of the room and into a hallway with more wooden floorboards and beige stucco walls. Crystal lights hung from the ceiling, lighting the narrow passageway as the setting sun filtered through the glass front doors of the mansion.

“They’ve been in contact, but they haven’t given me the kind of reassurance I’m happy with that they can get the guns we need. They say the automatics are coming in from Moscow via Seattle and traveling south. Axel said he’s handling the Russians, though, and told me not to worry.”

I nodded. “I trust Axel. He knows how to finesse these situations. Reach out to Odin and set up a meeting for after we get Manny home. I have too much on my mind about this rescue mission without worrying about dealing with Santi’s bullshit.”

“Familia.” Rafael rolled his eyes and I laughed.

“Santi has always been difficult, but even he knows I’ll only allow so much before he becomes a liability.”

“At least he’s not fucking Killough’s assassin anymore,” he muttered, lips twisted.

Ah yes, that had been Santiago’s prime moment of rebellion. He’d been lucky that Killough’s pet killer hadn’t come anywhere near us, or Santiago and his lover would have been another Reyes Cartel statistic. The only thing that saved him, other than being our cousin, was his beautiful mamá, my Tía Maria, a perfect Reyes woman who still talked to my mamá on a weekly basis.