El Gringo (The Sicarios of Navolato Book 3)

by Yolanda Olson

  I hate the realization that I just caused more work for her, because she’s been nothing but nice to me. What I hate even more is being treated like a commodity because of what I am instead of being accepted as one of them, even though we go about our business differently. But what fucks me off most of all is knowing that Pops probably thinks I’m an addict, especially since he was so quick to dismiss my drug theory.

  Of course, these are little secrets that I’m going to have to learn if he wants me to be a full-fledged bulldog, and honestly, I want one of those neat little intercepting walkie-talkies that Sofi has.

  This fucking sucks, I think as I place my hands over my face and close my eyes.

  When I open my eyes next, it’s dark outside. Well, almost because when I look at the ceiling, I can see the silhouette of flames dancing somewhere on the property. I sit up and rub my face, then laugh when I see: a nice pair of slacks, a white dress shirt, and a tie that have been neatly set up for me in a chair that was snuck in while I was asleep.

  Come hell or high water, apparently today, I’m becoming Mr. De la Cruz and not the other way around since I doubt Sofi will be quick to hold onto my name as her own.

  Getting to my feet, I walk over to the chair and pick up the pants first. I’m going to have to free ball this since I have no idea if the rest of my clothes are ready, and something tells me I won’t have the opportunity to ask.

  I get dressed quickly and pick up one of the longer broken mirror shards, prop it up against the door and look at myself.

  I can’t remember the last time I got dressed up, and even less for what reason, but I think I look okay, and I know that it’s the best I can do on such short notice.

  I wish I had some goddamn shoes.

  Another burst of silhouette flames dances across the room and I grin when I see that a pair of dress shoes were left underneath the chair. Whether they’ll fit or not is a different matter, but again, I don’t have any time for negotiations.

  I pick them up and sit down on the chair, then slide my feet in. They’re a little tight but I’m assuming I won’t have to wear them very long, so I decide not to make it an issue.

  One more look in the long shard of mirror and I lock eyes with my reflection, then shake my head.

  I’m starting to realize that maybe it wasn’t the sketching that made me destroy the room, but possibly pre-wedding jitters.

  This is the first time this has ever happened to me and I didn’t even get to woo or seduce my bride-to-be.

  I was simply told that this is the way things will be, and I know I’m just going have to roll with the punches and be the standup kind of guy that Sofi deserves.

  Before I leave the room, I walk over to the window and glance out into the garden. I can see Pops standing at the end of some makeshift aisle in the same white suit he wore the day he told me that this was going to be my future.

  He’s chatting with some man I haven’t seen before, but I’m assuming he is of some importance since he shakes his hand and laughs as the man walks away from him and takes a seat in the front row.

  I scan the audience and realize that the only familiar faces are Pops, Hector, the bulldogs, and most of the merry maids.

  I think it would have been nice if I could have had a friend or two in attendance, but the only friend I’ve managed to make and keep wandered off the other day and I never did get the chance to find out where.

  Inhaling a deep breath, I move away from the window and head toward the door. This isn’t going to go away any time soon, so I may as well get it over with.

  I head down the corridor to the back doors, hesitating slightly when I put my hand on the knob. I know Sofi wants this even less than I do, but I can only hope she’s considered my request to at least be friends.

  Or maybe I can talk her into being partners in crime. We did a pretty good job of finishing Cankle off together and we could Bonnie and Clyde our way across Mexico if she wants to.

  I let out a short laugh when it dawns on me that I’m stalling the inevitable, so I yank the door open and step outside.

  It doesn’t take me long to get across the garden and find the neatly placed row of white chairs, and it takes me even less time to make my way up toward Pops. When I reach him, he extends his hand, a big smile on his face, and claps me on the back.

  I cough slightly.

  I’m not sure if he was trying to knock the lungs out of my body or if he’s genuinely happy to see me, but I didn’t think he had that much strength in that body of his.

  “You look nice. Presentable,” he remarks proudly, and I offer him a tight smile. Nothing I can say right now will wipe away his feelings of joy, and honestly, I wouldn’t want to even if I could.

  With the way Sofi is, he probably thought he’d never be able to marry her off until I came along.

  I think I’ll try to talk him into early retirement, I muse as I reach down and roll up the sleeves of my dress shirt.

  Pops’ smile falters slightly, so I lean over, “It’s a little tight. After being restricted all day, I hope it’s okay to take a breather?”

  He nods and claps me on the back again causing me to stumble a bit, and I grit my teeth.

  I keep telling myself not to return the gesture. The man is happy right now, his only living daughter is getting married, and he seems to be content to look past the fact that an “addict” is going to be his son-in-law.

  I’ll let him have this moment for now.

  I clasp my hands in front of me and look up at the stars. The flames I saw dancing across the ceiling and the walls of the room are from the rows of torches lighting the way to the altar, adding hues of yellow, red and fire to the sky above us.

  And in the distance, I can see another set leading off into a part of the property I haven’t wandered onto yet.

  That question gets answered soon enough when a guitar starts to strum a haunting, yet beautifully melodic tune.

  I can feel a bead of sweat start to break the skin near my temple and I take another breath.

  Relax; this is the same girl you watched fist fuck a couple of twin hookers, cut a man’s head off, and assert her position as the boss of the bulldogs. Nothing more, nothing less.

  Everyone gets to their feet as a single row of torches appears a few strums later. I smile slightly when I see Anabella leading them, hoping that she’ll be willing to stick around if I’m ever made the boss around here.

  Behind her is an array of gorgeous women I’ve never seen before, but the way they’re dressed and how they present themselves tells me that in someone else’s world, they’re as important as Sofi is in this one.

  I let my breath out and steal a glance at Pops, who’s rigid with anticipation. He feels what I feel right now but in a completely different way.

  I guess it’s just nice to know I’m not alone in the nerves elevator that’s currently bouncing up and down inside of me.

  I reach up and run my thumb across my forehead to catch another bead of sweat before it has the chance to roll over.

  I don’t want to look as nervous as I feel because it could potentially be perceived as weakness, and I can’t put that kind of dent in the armor here.

  Anabella makes her way by me, a smile on her face, and pride in her eyes.

  I remember that look.

  Mom used to give it to me whenever I got a good grade on a test, did my homework all on my own, or even helped her clean up around the house without being asked.

  It’s a look of genuine happiness and pride, and I didn’t realize how much I’d missed it until now.

  Before she has the chance to turn and make her way down the aisle, I reach over and give her arm a friendly squeeze. I grin when she shakes her head and leads the rest of the cartel ladies down the way I came, then raise an eyebrow as they form a line behind the back row.

  Everyone who has been on their feet turn their backs to me, and it takes me off guard. I cast a curious glance at Pops, but when I see his eyes starting to well up,
I turn my attention back down the row and suck in a breath.

  I can’t get over how fucking beautiful she looks.

  Sofi is wearing a traditional Mexican dress: black with pops of bright color throughout, shoulders bare, and a big puffy bottom. Her hair is neatly pulled back in an elaborate bun, but it’s her face that’s taken my breath away.

  She’s been made up to look like Death; a white skull with black eyes, and lines where the bones would be. She’s holding a bouquet of blood red roses and as she slowly makes her way up toward us, I can’t help but hope that I look half as decent as she does.

  “Wow,” I murmur under my breath as she continues to approach. The tattoos on her arms are shining brightly, but the one that bares the most meaning is the one I see the most clearly.

  Daddy holds my attention, and even though I know it says more than that, I can’t help but reach over and nudge Pops, nodding at her arm.

  “Always a Daddy’s girl,” I tell him quietly, and he lets out a cross between a laugh and a choked up sound. “I’ll take care of her,” I promise him when she’s only a few steps away. He gives me a quick glance and nods before he makes his way toward his daughter and takes her hands in his.

  “Hermosa,” he says to her before he kisses her forehead, and I have to agree.

  I’ve looked death in the eye once or twice but if it had ever been as beautiful as what I see now, I never would have run.

  She smiles up at her father then turns her eyes toward me. I hold out a hand as he graciously passes her over to me and I give her hand a gentle tug.

  “At least we’ll look good killing people, eh?” I joke quietly to her and she shakes her head and chuckles.

  When we turn around to face the altar, a short, pudgy man in a black suit is suddenly standing there with a bible in his hand.

  “Ready, Gringo?” she asks me under her breath.

  “Like we have a choice,” I reply slyly out of the corner of my mouth.

  Here goes nothing, I think as he opens his mouth and begins the ceremony.

  “Querido amado …”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  We’re sitting at an opulent table near the back patio. It’s not as long as the dining room tables, with only room for me, Sofi, her father, and a couple of the other important people in attendance.

  But when I see Anabella starting to walk toward us with a platter piled high with food, I get up and walk over to her.

  “Tonight, you’re my guest,” I tell her with a warm smile as I set the platter down on the table. She looks a little shocked, and even embarrassed, but I won’t take no for an answer tonight.

  I walk to the patio and grab one of the large wicker chairs that I’ve spent a couple of nights in and carry it toward the wedding party table.

  “Scoot down a little,” I say to Sofi who looks up at me and grins. I think she likes that I’m a rule breaker because the maids should be working and probably have no business sitting with us, but I don’t know.

  I’m not a fan of watching her slave all day and night and I did promise myself that I’d give her some breaks if I ever came into power around here.

  Not that I think I’ll have any soon or anything, but a little flex here and there until the torch is passed to me won’t hurt.

  I use a foot to push my chair closer to Sofi’s when she makes space, then set Anabella’s next to mine. I tap the front of it to let her know that it’s okay to sit down, then help her slide it in once she’s comfortable.

  As Pops gets to his feet and the attention of the raucous crowd falls on him, I reach for a plate and place it in front of my new mom.

  She doesn’t know it yet, but that’s how I see her, and I’ll treat her just as good, if not better, than my own since I never did get to have many years with her.

  Anabella rests a hand on my forearm, and I grin at her before I drape an arm around the back of Sofi’s chair and give Pops my undivided attention.

  And much like I suspected, he starts to give a speech. He talks about when Sofi was a young girl and how he found her. How he brought her into his home and saw no difference between her and her sister. How nothing in this world will ever mean more to him than his daughters and how he’s proud to see how much she’s grown.

  He goes on and on to the point where he starts to ramble about his empire, the people in it that he can trust, and then he switches to the outsider who’s to be welcomed like he has always been here.

  Namely, me.

  I can feel my face burn as the blood rushes to my skull. I’m doing my best to keep the smile on my face and my eyes as interested as the powerhouses around us. I can feel them eye fucking me, wondering what’s so special about me that I was welcomed so quickly into the fold.

  And I’ll show them all when the time is right.

  I’ll prove that I belong even if I was pretty much taken hostage into this empire, and I’ll make them fear and respect me as much as they do the man who’s pouring his heart out to his guests, extolling the virtues of his daughter and her new husband.

  The guests left an hour ago and I’ve been outside with the staff helping them pick up. I don’t have anything else to do since I doubt Sofi will be in any kind of hurry to consummate our marriage.

  So, I make myself busy and have small chat with Anabella as I pick up a stack of chairs and carry them into the house behind her.

  She’s fun, has lots of great stories to tell me, and even slightly embarrassing ones about watching Sofi grow up that I’ll keep tucked away in case I need to lighten a mood at any given moment.

  Lupe trails behind us in stoic silence and then rushes by with two full trash bags in her hands. I scratch the back of my head as I let out a sigh and hurry to catch up to her.

  “Here,” I say as I take them from her. “Just tell me where they go.”

  She’s so damn scared of me now that she won’t even look at me and I hate it. All I wanted from her was to keep her ass down and her head up, but whatever Anabella said to her must have hit home harder than anything else I could have barked.

  “Listen,” I begin as I toss the bags on the side of the house where she’s lead me. The cool night air feels nice on my slightly sweaty skin, so I don’t mind taking a brief interlude to set things straight with her. “I don’t want you to act so damn scared around me, okay? The only problem I have with you is how inappropriate you were when I walked into my room. I take it Anabella has set that straight already, so let’s let bygones be bygones and start over.”

  I hold out a hand to her but she’s too scared to take it at first. I let out a friendly laugh as I reach down for her wrist, force her hand into mine, give it a shake. Before I send her on her way, I remember something.

  “You know what will make me forget all about this?” I ask with a grin.

  She raises an eyebrow at me.

  “A couple of days ago, I forgot a sandwich in my car. Now, granted it’s probably a level three biohazard in there at this point, but if you can get in there in the morning and get rid of it for me? Maybe give the car a power scrub too, I’d be willing to pretend this is the first time we’ve met.”

  She looks up at me and nods, a small smile starting to curve her lips.

  I honestly feel a little bad about sending her into a toxic wasteland, but if she’s willing to trade off her biohazard for mine, then I think we can start over nicely.

  I jerk my head to the side and she’s off like a shot. I wait for a few seconds until she’s safe and out of sight then glance up at the sky and inhale the fresh air.

  I take the long way around the house to see if there’s anything else that needs to be done, and when I see that there’s barely anything left, I decide to turn in.

  Heading back into the house, I then walk the last mile toward my bedroom. I know I left it in disarray and I’m hoping it’s still like that because I don’t want to be responsible for having given Anabella something else to do.

  I undo my tie as I reach the door, then pull it free, befor
e I push the door open.

  What I find inside makes me raise an eyebrow curiously, then chuckle.

  The room has indeed been picked up, and everything looks like it did before I had to fight my bout of cold feet.

  But there’s a little something extra now.

  Sitting on the edge of the bed and looking impatient as ever, is none other than Ana Sofia De la Cruz herself.

  “Where were you?” she asks me curiously, a hint of irritability to her tone.

  “Cleaning up. It’s not like I had anything else to do,” I reply with a shrug.

  She’s managed to get most of the makeup off her face, with only a few small trails of the white base leaving streaks near her neck. I flip the light switch on as I toss my tie on the dresser, but she shakes her head, so I turn it off.

  “Listen, if you’re here to beat me up or something, can it wait until tomorrow?” I ask as I walk over to the chair and wrestle the shoes off my feet.

  Sofi smirks as I rub my digits, trying to get some feeling back into them before she reaches up and pulls the pins out of her bun. I watch her hair cascade down around her face as she gets to her feet, then she begins to shrug off her dress.

  “What the fuck is this?” I blurt out curiously and as the dress crumples to the ground, I see that she was free balling the ceremony in her own way too.

  “What I owe you,” she replies simply as she comes over and pushes me back against the chair. Sofi straddles me as she drapes her arms around my shoulders, but this feels kind of cheap to me.

  I reach up and grab her forearms, pull them away, and give her a gentle smack on her ass, “Maybe when you really want to and it’s not to settle up an old debt.”

  But she doesn’t budge, instead she grabs a fistful of my hair and yanks my head back. “What makes you think I don’t want to, pendejo?”

  “Gee, I don’t know. Maybe the way you’re trying to manhandle me and the pet name you just dropped?” I ask with a grin. Sofi smirks as she gets to her feet and walks over to my bed.