La Princesa (The Sicarios of Navolato)

by Yolanda Olson

  I’m the perfect mix of both and I fear no man except for our father.

  “Tatiana,” the guard greets me with a nod as he pulls the door open for me. I pull open the zipper on my purse and hand him my cellphone, giving him the next few seconds to inspect the rest, before he gives me the go ahead to walk in.

  I give him a small smile as I breeze by and into the room toward the large office table in the middle.

  Pulling one of the lead chairs out, I sit down, cross my legs, and get comfortable. It seems that most of the captains who were required to attend are here, except for one.

  And he’s the one Papa wants me to sway in our favor or feed to the dogs.

  The difference between this captain and the rest at this table is that he’s no Sicario. Instead, he’s a rogue DEA agent who’s looking to make a quick buck and keep his head attached to his shoulders while crossing the border in and out of Mexico.

  “You look nice today, Tati,” Lorenzo Munoz says with a grin. I give him a withering stare as I lean back in the chair. He’s the underboss of the Vargas Cartel in Durango and can be as ruthless as he is seductive. The problem is that he doesn’t know how to dial it down when I’m within his reach, and it puts me off each and every time.

  “Thanks,” I reply curtly.

  Jackass or not, I have to acknowledge his bullshit otherwise it puts Papa’s business in danger.

  “Where the fuck is this pendejo?” I ask loudly after another ten minutes passes.

  “Think this is a set up?” Lorenzo asks thoughtfully.

  “If it is, no motherfucker who enters this room uninvited leaves alive,” I declare to the rest of the men at the table. They look at each other, eyebrows raised, before nodding and murmuring their agreements to my declaration.

  Of course, this is where Ana Sofia would be the most useful. Perhaps I should have told her where I was going after all.

  Clearing my throat, I reach for the folder that had been set down in front of my chair before I arrived. Flipping it open, I lay my sunglasses down then pick it up and stare at the picture.

  He’s a handsome man, even if a little on the rough looking side. The photo is colorized so I’m able to take in the pale hue of his skin, the shock of green in his otherwise vacant eyes, and the dark blonde hair that sits messily on his head. Granted, this isn’t an official picture, but the Vargas boys have never been much for taking their time when scouting.

  That’s why they’re at the bottom of the food chain around here. Lack of patience leads to messy endings and I long for the day that we can finally be done with them.

  “Got a crush, Tati?” Lorenzo asks with a chuckle.

  I glance up at him dangerously over the top of the file, my eyes narrowing at the tight smile on his face. I wish he would learn to have some fucking class. He reminds me of the unskilled young boys that tease the girls they like, then when all else fails, attempt embarrassment.

  “No, I think he’s more your type, Enzo,” I snipe at him, a grin forming on my lips when the rest of the men at the table begin to chuckle under their breaths.

  He gives me a level stare as he glances quickly up and down the line of powerful underbosses, then forces a tight smile onto his face.

  “Cabróna,” he shoots back, danger beginning to dance in his eyes.

  I shrug as I go back to my research. I’m not entirely thrilled to be kept waiting, nor am I exactly interested in staying longer than I told Papa that I would. He’ll send every Sicario he has to Altata just to bring me back home.

  And if he doesn’t, he’ll send something much more dangerous—Ana Sofia.

  I wait ten more minutes and when the informant still hasn’t arrived, I get to my feet and grab my sunglasses.

  “I don’t have time for this bullshit. Keep me posted on what happened,” I say to no one in particular as I turn on my heel and head for the door.

  I can only hope that leaving these men behind won’t mean their demise, and if it does, then I’ll have to find a way to explain to all of the bosses of Mexico why I wasn’t there to save them.

  Chapter Four

  I get to my car and slip into the driver’s seat, giving myself a once over in the rearview mirror. Tucking my hair behind my ears, I let out a sigh as I reach for my purse and fish around for the keys.

  Once I locate them, I toss my bag back into the passenger seat and start the car. As soon as I’m ready to pull out of my spot, I see something curious that catches my attention.

  A man I’ve never met before is walking up the street toward the building. He casts suspicious glances over his shoulder, then disappears into the front door of the safe house.

  I know that I should turn the car off and go back inside because he looks so goddamn much like the man in the photo, but the problem is that if I enter behind him, the rest of the men inside will suspect me of being in tandem with him and that’s not something I want to bring down on our father’s house.

  However, it gives me an even better idea.

  I snake a hand across the way to fish around in my purse for my phone. I take a deep breath as I tap the screen to life, then quickly go to my call log.

  The picture I have of my sister as her contact photo is one of my favorites of us. She has her arms wrapped around my neck, smiling so brightly at my resistance of her affection, made clear by the frazzled smile on my face.

  I tap her name then begin to chew on my thumb nervously.

  “Digame,” she says into the receiver when she answers.

  “I think this is a set up,” I blurt out.

  I didn’t mean to start our conversation like this, but Ana Sofia really is the only person I know I can trust.

  “So get the fuck out of there, Tati,” she replies evenly.

  I lean my head against the back of the seat and blow out a breath. She may be the more physically brutal of the two of us, the hot-headed one who’s always willing to run into danger instead of from it, but she doesn’t like when anyone else does it.

  It makes me wonder how much of her died on the streets in Culiacán when her parents did.

  “That’s the thing,” I begin thoughtfully, “I think they wanted me to leave before this fucker got here.”

  “Where are you?” she asks immediately. There’s La Carnicera, I think as a small smile begins to form on my lips.

  “Altata.”

  “Go somewhere safe and call me back with an address. I mean it, Tati,” she says in a softer tone. I agree and disconnect the call.

  I can’t think of anywhere that I can go where I won’t be recognized as a Cancio, but I would like to think that our father’s name will keep the wolves in their cages.

  Especially since this is supposed to be neutral ground.

  Blowing out a breath, I turn on the navigation system on my phone then settle on Cancha de Besibol in Bachimeto. It’s about twenty minutes away from where I currently am and should put enough distance between me and whatever the fuck is going on in there now until Ana Sofia arrives.

  I find a safe place to park off the grounds, then text Ana Sofia the information before I wait for her reply. She tells me she’ll arrive as quickly as she can and for me to stay out of trouble.

  The last line makes me smile because it’s what I usually say to her when Papa lets her go out for the day.

  We’re not prisoners in our home by any means, but he knows that if we’re caught in the wrong place at the wrong time, it could mean our lives. Which is why he sends his Sicarios to follow us when we’re out and about alone. He thinks we don’t know, but both my sister and I have caught them from time to time.

  We’ve never turned them in, though.

  They’re only doing as their boss commands, and any negative report to him could cost them their standing, their jobs, income, or worse.

  I begin to tap the steering wheel impatiently. Even though I know how long it should take her to get here, I don’t feel like baking in the goddamn car. Shutting the engine off, I remove the keys from the igni
tion and push the car door open.

  I remind myself that she’ll be here faster than it took me to arrive because she assumes that I’m in danger, which I possibly am, and she’d sooner lose her life than let me lose mine.

  I tuck the keys into the waistband of my skirt and begin to walk toward the park. There are some cars driving up and down on the street, but not enough or too few to cause me any concern.

  I smile at a family exiting as I enter. The young man who I assume is the head of this little rabble nods at me as he and his woman walk by. I chuckle when I catch the nervous gleam in his eye. It’s clear to me that he knows who I am and is more than likely getting the fuck out of town just in case.

  “Que tengas un buen día!” I call out to them over my shoulder, then grin when he damn near shoves his woman and their small children up the path.

  I shake my head good-naturedly as I head toward a wooden bench erected underneath a small tree.

  It won’t be enough to keep the damn sun away, but it will help me not roast to death while I wait under the shade.

  I know I should remain aware of my surroundings, though I can’t imagine anyone here would give me an issue. After giving one more glance around, I lift my legs onto the bench, lie on my side and push my hair behind my ears.

  A little nap before La Carnicera arrives isn’t out of order. I didn’t sleep much last night since the weight of this responsibility has been heavy on me since Papa told me he needed to me to do this for him.

  I stifle a yawn with my fist before I rest the side of my face comfortably against my hands and close my eyes.

  Chapter Five

  “Who is she, Papa?” I ask, wrinkling my nose at the little girl he’s holding in his arms. Her face is buried in his neck, she’s shaking so hard that I can see it from where I’m standing, and I think I see blood on her leg.

  “Tu nueva hermana,” he tells me in a soft voice as he attempts to set her down, but she begins to cry, so he decides not to.

  My sister? I have a sister? I wonder curiously.

  “Hi,” I tell the girl as I step a little closer. Papa rubs her back gently, leans down and whispers something into her ear. She pulls back from him slightly and uses both hands to wipe the tears from her face before she looks at me quickly then buries her face into his neck again.

  “I’m Tatiana,” I say in a louder voice. I don’t understand why she doesn’t want to look at me, or why she’s afraid, but I want to be her friend if she’s supposed to be my sister.

  My lower lip begins to tremble at the thought that this girl won’t like me. I begin to wring my hands as I look up at Papa who’s shushing her as he begins to gently move side to side. It’s what he always does when I fall down and scrape a knee or get hurt in some way.

  He’s trying to make her feel better.

  And that’s when I remember what always makes me feel happy when I’m sad.

  I turn around and start running toward my bedroom. The last time Papa went to America, he brought me the biggest and softest stuffed fox that I had ever seen before.

  I push the door open to my room and jump onto my bed to grab it, then turn around and run back toward the front door. I can see Mama now talking to Papa quietly and she doesn’t look too happy, but he keeps shaking his head. No matter how mad she gets with him, I’ve never heard him yell at her, and with a scared child in his arms, I don’t think he’ll start now.

  As soon as I reach them, Mama scoops me up in her arms and Papa lets out a sigh.

  I begin to wriggle out of her grip immediately and she sets me back down onto the ground with a loud huff then walks away.

  I’ll ask her what’s wrong later, but right now, I want the little girl to feel better.

  “Toma,” I say as I reach up and tap her on the leg.

  She flinches slightly and it makes me want to cry. If she’s already hurt and I only made it worse then she’ll never like me.

  “Hija,” Papa says to her softly. “Your sister wants to share something with you.”

  The little girl takes a deep breath as she pulls away from Papa again then looks down at me. Her eyes are big and brown and so small right now. Until she sees what I’m trying to give her. Almost instantly, she smiles as she reaches her hands down for my fox and I look up at Papa with a smile.

  He looks so proud of me that I know I did the right thing.

  “We can share him, okay?” I tell the girl who nods as she hugs the fox. Papa carefully tries to set her down again, and this time, she lets him.

  Reaching forward, I take her hand in mine and begin to lead her down the hall. I can see her leg is bleeding so I’ll clean her up and put a Band-Aid on it and she’ll feel better because of it.

  And if she doesn’t, then she can keep the fox.

  “I’m Ana Sofia,” she says to me in a shaky voice as we walk slowly toward the bathroom.

  I smile at her and when I do, she hugs the stuffed animal close to her.

  “You can call me Tati. I’m your big sister and I’ll help Papa keep you safe.”

  When I open my eyes again, I’m startled to find that I’m not alone on the bench anymore.

  I sit up immediately and let out a sigh of relief when I see it’s my sister. Her arms are crossed over her chest and she’s staring off into the distance.

  “Stay out of trouble doesn’t mean fall asleep, Tati,” she scolds me tiredly.

  “Sorry,” I reply in a froggy tone.

  I lean my head toward her slightly to rub my neck, then get to my feet.

  “Did you tell Papa what happened?” I ask as I stretch my arms over my head.

  Ana Sofia begins to chew her lower lip thoughtfully and shakes her head. And I know that I can believe her because my sister has never been a liar. At least, not when it mattered.

  “Go home, Tati,” she instructs me in a quiet tone as she finally stands up. When I arch an eyebrow at her, she shakes her head to let me know she’s not in the mood for disagreements.

  “What—”

  “I’ll take it from here,” she tells me before she reaches forward to envelop me in a hug. It’s strange to receive affection from her, and I know she’s going to put her life on the line right now which is exactly what I didn’t fucking want.

  “Not without you,” I reply stubbornly as I return her hug.

  “This isn’t up for debate, Tatiana.”

  “You’re right, it’s not. Get in the fucking car and let’s see if the boys are still swinging their dicks at each other,” I say as I pull away from her and start walking up the path again.

  “Listen, if this gets too hairy,” she begins, but I cut her off immediately.

  “If they won’t listen to diplomacy, then perhaps they’ll listen to the metal.”

  She gives me a faint smile as she shakes her head and falls into step beside me.

  Once we make it to my car, she informs me that she’ll follow me back to the building which means she’s come fully prepared to turn into Papa’s best killing machine.

  I linger by my open door for a moment as I watch her begin to pull her hair back into a topknot, then shake my head fondly when she walks straight to the trunk of her car and pulls out a heavy black bag.

  The smile isn’t for what I know she’s going to do.

  It’s for the fox on her arm just below Papa’s name.

  The same one I told her that she’d be able to keep to help her feel better.

  And she did it the only way she knew how.

  Chapter Six

  Ana Sofia parked further up the street than I did. I give her the time she needs to slip her sharp objects into the waistband of her pants before she’s ready.

  “This should be fun,” she tells me with a grin as we approach the front door together. Once inside, we head toward the room and find the guard sitting in a chair just outside of the door.

  “Tatiana,” he greets me as I approach, and when his eyes fall on the woman beside me, I can damn near smell him pissing himself. “Ana Sofia,�
�� he mumbles.

  She smirks and jerks her head toward the front door of the building. He’s off like a fucking shot; where as I use words to get my point across, my sister will indiscriminately shed blood for the same purpose.

  Once she’s satisfied that he won’t come back, she pulls both of the doors to the meeting room wide open and walks in with me on her heel.

  “Qué tenemos aquí?” she asks with a smirk as she waltzes toward my empty seat at the head of the table and sits down. Ana Sofia kicks up her legs and gives each of the men seated an amused look. I walk over and grip the top of the chair she’s made herself comfortable in, then grin down at her when she looks up at me and sticks her tongue out.

  She’s in a playful mood on the outside, but on the inside, the Devil would shit himself in fear knowing what she’s capable of.

  “Sofi,” Enzo pipes up with a laugh. “How long has it been?”

  “Not long enough,” she replies with an eye roll. I chuckle when he grits his teeth, then glance around the table until I spot the man that we were waiting for sitting at the other end. I lean down and tap my sister’s shoulder, nodding toward him. She drops her feet instantly, climbs up onto the long table, and makes her way toward him.

  When she reaches him, she crouches down and peers into his eyes.

  “Like I said, what do we have here?” she asks him evenly.

  He glances toward the man closest to him, Guillermo Garza, who works for the boss of the San Ignacio cartel. Actually, the more I let him being here settle in, the more I’m becoming convinced that this is a fucking set up.

  That animal never shows his face until it’s time to kill—the only question I want an answer to is this; who at this table is his mark?

  I know there’s no way I’m going to get my sister’s attention unless she’s willing to give it, so I’m going to have to fucking take it and get us both the hell out of here.