by AJ Adams
“Look, the word is that the cartel is pissed, and I have family, you know?”
“Lucky you.”
Tim winced and struck back, “If you’d been a bit nicer to Mitch, maybe he would’ve spoken up for you!”
I snarled at him and he dripped off.
Another shot later, Jake slunk in. “Look, Mitch might be willing to help. If you ask nice, it could all work out.”
I just couldn’t take it. “Whose side are you on? The cartel’s or mine?”
Jake exited. I know Roberto turned up, but as that was tequila six or maybe seven, I only have the vaguest memory of whining and hand-wringing.
I went home, or at least I meant to, but I got turned around and ended up back at the shop. I let myself in and spent the night on the office couch. At first light, staggering out with the hangover from hell, swearing I’d never touch tequila again, I stumbled home.
The streets were silent and my head pounding when I turned into my own road. That’s when I smelled smoke.
My home was in flames. I was diving in, trying to get inside, when one of my neighbours tackled me. “Oh no, you don’t, chica!”
“Let me go! All I have is in there.”
Dan’s huge, and so he just leaned on me, pinning me, as he was panting, “It’s not worth your life, honey.”
He meant well, but he didn’t understand. All I had left of the past was going up in smoke.
“How did it happen?” Bettie, another neighbour asked. “I came by ten minutes ago and there was no sign of trouble.”
“I saw an SUV scream out of here,” Dan was letting me up. “Sorry, hun, but this looks like arson.”
“It does,” Bettie agreed.
I didn’t say anything. I was just numb. Everything I had left of my family, the photos, my sister’s stuffed toys, my papa’s racing cups, my mom’s pearl necklet, our school reports even, were gone.
“Fuck! What the hell!” Jake and Tim were there, dressed for work, and looking appalled. “Were you in there? Are you okay?”
At that point, it occurred to me that I was supposed to be inside. This wasn’t just an attack on my home; this was an attempt on my life. “Was it the cartel or Los Osos?”
“You’re kidding!” Jake was shocked.
Tim was shaking his head. “Don Valentine would never do this. Not to you.”
I knew Don Valentine would sacrifice his daughters if he wanted to send a message, so I wasn’t so sure.
“You know,” Jake said slowly, “he should have known this might happen.”
“Yeah,” Tim was frowning. “He lost his temper, but this is too much. He shouldn’t have withdrawn his protection. I mean, your family is a byword for loyalty.”
Roberto turned up, completely appalled. “Fuck! You’re in the shit with the cartel, but Los Osos had the balls to come here and do this?”
“They have to pay,” Tim agreed.
“Yeah, this is cartel business now,” Jake said.
Then they turned to me.
“Sorry,” Tim said. “I got freaked. Mitch threatened to get Dinah fired from the diner.”
Tim’s cousin Dinah, who had two babies to care for. “I understand.”
“I’m sorry too,” Jake sighed. “Mitch said he’d get Pops fired. With Mom being diabetic and with Medicare costs going wild, we need every cent.”
“It’s okay. Forget about it.”
Roberto didn’t say a word. He didn’t have to tell me what Mitch threatened.
I looked at the too-lean, shaking frame and forgave him. “Get help. You’re smoking too much. Weed isn’t your friend.”
Mitch being a complete backstabber hurt me. I got that he was mad with me, but to try and warn off my friends by threatening their families was low. It was also typical cartel.
He came driving up as we were debating what to tell the cops. “What a thing! What a fucking awful thing!” Mitch was yelling. “They’ll pay for this!”
I was actually relieved to hear it. “So was it Los Osos?”
“For God’s sake! Of course it was!” Mitch looked devastated. “Chica, you punched Neto in the balls. What the fuck did you think he’d do? Walk away?”
Typical. “He attacked me.”
Mitch was loud. “The fuckers will pay! This is too much! We’re going to send a strong message.”
“Like you gave to my friends?”
Mitch took my hand. “I was angry. Sorry, I don’t take rejection well. I didn’t mean it. I apologise.”
At that, I stopped listening. I didn’t trust him or Don Valentine. They might decide revenge was needed, but they were just as likely to try and use it as leverage for their negotiations. This time I’d take care of it myself.
Like I said, I have cartel blood, and it was rising fast and hot for revenge. I looked at the smoking remains of my home, thought of all the memories that had gone up in flames, and ached for justice. The emotion was so strong that I was feeling faint. Suddenly nauseous, I found myself sitting on the road, dipping my head to my knees.
Roberto was at my side. “The cops are here.”
When I’d first spotted the fire, adrenaline had galvanised me. The shock was now rushing in, numbing me. I could barely feel the pavement under me. “Okay.”
“Mitch will deal with them.”
“Okay.”
As the street filled up with onlookers, I became increasingly disconnected, hearing neighbours and customers consoling me as if they were blanketed in fog.
Next thing I remember, I was leaning against a Chevy. The front wheel was off, but I couldn’t remember doing it.
“She just walked,” Roberto was saying to someone. “We found her here in the shop.”
“Don Valentine wants to see her.”
“Mitch, she’s not tracking.” Roberto was protecting me. “She’s in shock.”
“Fuck!” Mitch couldn’t take anything not going his way. “Right, tell me the second she’s better. Don Valentine wants to give her his personal assurance that he’s all over this.”
So I was back in favour. Don Valentine couldn’t tolerate a Los Osos attack in his territory. But I didn’t trust the bling pig to take my revenge for me. I’d do it myself. They burned my home; I had the right. Nobody would deny me now. But how?
Putting the wheel back on the Chevy, the solution popped into mind.
Everyone knew Papa and my uncle had been killed in a shootout with Los Osos, but very few knew where it had gone down. I’d heard Papa plan the meet. The gang had a warehouse, an operational centre with a chem lab on one floor in an industrial zone on the edge of Templado, an hour south of Dawson Heights.
If I destroyed the building, Neto would lose his lab. It also would rip the heart out of the gang. Even better, Los Osos weren’t big players; this kind of setback could annihilate them.
The gang would be after me, but it wouldn’t matter because Don Valentine would protect me. The boss was making a deal because he wanted to expand his territory. He’d chosen an alliance with Los Osos because a war always costs blood. But if the gang were shattered, he’d just move in and take over.
I knew this because I knew our history. When the cartel had come to Dawson Heights, there had been a dozen gangs. The Gulf had smashed and absorbed them one by one. If I crushed Neto and Los Osos, Don Valentine would eat them up. Then he’d thank me by rescinding his orders to cut me loose. I’d be safe again.
I know, that kind of thinking is just evil. But I couldn’t help it; it’s how I grew up.
Hitting the road to Templado, I was soon watching the Los Osos warehouse from a Starbucks next door. At first it looked impossible. There were guards everywhere, and they were all packing.
But thinking of them holed up like rats, I suddenly knew of a way to get to them. It took a phone call. “Ace Exterminators? I want you to tent one of my properties. I’ve got roaches the size of cats.”
When the exterminators arrived, I was watching.
“Our place? We didn’t call you.”
One of the gang, a skinny rat with tattooed arms, was suspicious.
“I have the order here, and paid for in advance.”
While the exterminator dug out his paperwork, I saw the rat grin. He was thinking it was a mistake and that he’d just play along to get free service.
“Shit man, yeah.” The rat was waxing lyrical. “Sure, sure, the owner said he’d arrange it. But I just forgot.” The rat thought he was being so clever, taking advantage.
I watched the gang clear out, and when the tent went up, I began my preparations.
After Roberto locked up for the night, I let myself in and borrowed a bike from the shop, a Suzuki VanVan, small and too popular to notice at the best of times but anonymous after I made some new plates for it.
Then I got kitted up. When you work with aerosol paint and chemicals, you have a respirator mask that will deal with particulates. And I had more overalls than Distribution America.
An hour later, I was breaking through the seals and walking into the poisonous fog, no trouble at all. I was happy to see Los Osos had left several nice rides, stolen, no doubt, as well as plenty of lockers filled with knock-off bags and other goodies. The lab was huge and filled with supplies. Neto was going to lose his balls.
I slid under the floor and got set up. One thing you learn when welding is to keep away from gas, paint, kerosene, solvents—all stuff I had in quantities. Even better, I found gas pipes.
I think I was humming as I worked. I placed kerosene under the boiler and in the centre of the building, just where the gas pipes divided. They would carry the explosion to every part of the structure. Thanks to an informative web site, I converted a cell phone to a detonator.
Then I went back to my bike, made sure the street was clear and made the call. There was a loud crack, and the place went up in a rush of flames. All four floors simply flared and vanished.
I’d expected to feel some relief or at least the sweetness of revenge, but I felt nothing. So I went back to the shop.
Mitch was round within the hour. “What the fuck did you do?”
I gave it to him straight. “I took care of business.”
“Are you fucking insane? Do you know what you did?”
“Los Osos are out of the way now. You can step in and take over.”
“But I negotiated a truce.” Mitch wasn’t seeing the opportunity. “We were going to learn about their operations and then take over.”
Nice, huh? He’d been cosying up to the gang, pretending to be friendly, and all the while he was plotting to stab them in the back. And to think I’d fallen for him!
Now Mitch was bitching, “You messed up my project.”
“I saved you some time. Now Don Valentine has it all.”
“But you had no right. It’s not your business.”
“Not my business?” I was seeing my sister again, shattered and sick. My stomach heaved and I snapped, “Get the fuck out!”
Mitch stormed out, but Roberto had heard it all, and his eyes were round with shock. “What did you do? What’s going on?”
“Neto destroyed my home. I destroyed his.”
“What the hell does that mean? You burnt his house down?” Jake was there, looking worried.
“Not exactly. I took out the Los Osos operations centre.”
“Ohmigod.” Tim was shaking. “Chica, for God’s sake! Leave! Run!”
“Don Valentine will be grateful.”
“What? Why?”
I explained it in words of one syllable and then they were a little happier. “Are you sure? Is that how he’ll see it?”
“Yes.”
“Mitch didn’t.”
“He’s not Don Valentine. The boss will see it as a coup.”
“And Los Osos? They’ll be out for revenge.”
“Maybe. But nobody knows I did it. Unless you rat me out.”
“Not me.” Roberto crossed his heart.
“I’m saying nothing,” Tim promised.
“Not a word.” Jake was serious too.
I knew they’d keep quiet out of loyalty, but they were also afraid.
“I think they’ll blame Neto for poor security,” I comforted them. “He can tell them he thinks it’s me, but they won’t believe a girl did this.”
“They won’t believe it? I don’t fucking believe it!” Roberto cried.
“Nobody will,” Jake sighed. “Thank God for it, too.”
They were frightened, and they didn’t know the cartel. “Los Osos have lost their base. Don Valentine will take over, and Los Osos will disappear.”
“And Neto?” Jake asked.
“He’s probably heading out of town.” I’d thought it out. “If his own people don’t kill him, Don Valentine might. After all, he swore to punish Neto for burning my apartment. Either way, Neto is out of the picture.”
“You may be right,” Roberto said. But when the news began broadcasting images of the warehouse going up in flames, he was staring at the screen in awe. “That’s one big fucking fire, though.”
Tim was white with worry. “Look, you say it’s cool, but why don’t you disappear for a while just in case?”
Jake was nodding. “We can lend you some cash.”
“Call in and we’ll tell you when it’s safe to come back,” Roberto agreed.
At that, tears were running down my face.
“Chica! You’re crying?” Roberto couldn’t believe his eyes.
“Sorry,” I wiped them away. “It’s just so good to have friends.”
It would’ve been a tear-fest if Mitch hadn’t walked back into the shop. “Look, I’m sorry about losing my temper.” He knew I was still mad at him, but Mitch stood his ground. “You’re right. With Los Osos gone, we can take their territory.”
Robert heaved a sigh of relief. “What did Don Valentine say?”
“He wants all of you to shut up about this.”
“No problem,” Roberto spoke from the heart. “I don’t want any fallout.”
With Tim and Jake nodding like Gromit bobblehead dashboard toys, Mitch decided he could call it job done. He turned to me. “Don Valentine wants to see you but not now. I’ll call for you in a few days.”
“So I’m off the shit list?”
Roberto groaned, but Mitch was nodding. “You did us a solid. We’ll be talking proper compensation soon.”
“I don’t want your money.”
“She doesn’t mean that,” Roberto said quickly. “She’s still in shock.”
Mitch shrugged. “She can talk to Don Valentine about it.”
And just like that I had my life back. I was certain of it when we went to Barnyard, me in shop overalls and a tee courtesy of Caltex engine oil.
Emma and Lucy were there, exclaiming, “Ohmigod, are you okay?”
I got hugged, and then Al was sending over a pitcher of beer, “From Mitch.” It was a public statement; the cartel was off my ass.
“It’s all okay?” Emma asked.
“You made up,” Lucy sighed.
I felt their sighs of relief, but the knowledge that their sympathy had come before they knew I was in the clear again warmed my heart. “Yeah, we’re all good.”
That got them all gabbing again.
“Los Osos torched your place? You could have died!”
“And Don Valentine burnt down their warehouse as punishment?”
It went round like wildfire, and an hour later everyone thought the Gulf had taken revenge against Los Osos for burning down my home. It was clever, really, because Don Valentine looked like he’d stepped up, which gave his rep and the cartel a great boost.
“I’m so glad it’s all fixed,” Emma gushed. “Mitch told us Don Valentine totally lost it when he heard what Los Osos had done. After all, your papa was his friend, right?”
I ignored Tim, Jake and Roberto’s surprised faces and nodded. “Yes. I’ve been forgiven so everything is back to normal.”
“Except that we didn’t back you up the other night,” Lucy whispered.
/> “We were frightened,” Emma said guiltily, “but we did go after you.”
“But you just disappeared,” Lucy said, “and your phone was off.”
I was instantly watery. “Ohmigod. I’m so sorry I doubted you.” I hadn’t even looked at my phone, and when I glanced at it, there were a dozen messages.
It was hugs all round, and then Emma was asking, “And we wanted to see you yesterday and the day before, but Roberto said you weren’t ready to talk.”
In my head, being outcast, the arson attack, and my response had taken place in minutes, but my phone told me the fire had been three days before. That’s when I realised I’d blacked out for hours at a time. As for telling the girls what I’d been doing, that wasn’t an option. “Erm…”
Jake stepped in quickly. “She was working. On autopilot. And she slept a lot. On the office couch.”
“I’m not surprised,” Lucy sighed. “Listen, we have an emergency kit for you.”
They’d put together a big bag filled with essentials from tees to a hairbrush.
“Oh, you didn’t have to do that!” I wept, but actually it was the happiest moment of my life.
“And we’ve decided you come and bunk with me,” Emma said. “Till you sort out your insurance.”
For the first time since Aleja and Papa had passed away, I felt I had a family. The feeling persisted over the days that followed. Despite everything, I felt cocooned in love because my friends were there for me.
The good news kept on coming. Like I’d hoped, Los Osos were finished. “They had all their cash in that warehouse,” Mitch informed me. “They’re broke. Don Valentine has taken over, lock, stock, and barrel.”
“And Neto?”
“Vanished.”
“Do they know who did it?”
Mitch shrugged as he gave the official line. “Everyone knows crossing Don Valentine is suicide. I was happy to sort it out for him.”
So Mitch and Don Valentine took credit, meaning I was off the hook. Frankly, I was relieved. Having had my revenge, I felt curiously fragile. Weepy and kind of shaky. I decided being Papa’s daughter was a limited gig for me.
“I need you to find me that nice date,” I told Emma. “No more bad boys for me.”
I meant it too. I wanted a peaceful life.
