by Tara Oakes
“Consider it done, D.” He’s eager to get started on his task and ends the call. Crazy turn of events today. Not only did this little unexpected hiccup save Esè’s ass, but it also gave him a one-way ticket to his full patches. If he pulls it off.
The next call isn’t so easy to make.
“Thank God!” The phone is answered before the first ring is even through. She must have been sitting on pins and needles waiting.
I multitask, entering the basement while calling Angel. “Hey, baby.”
It’s obvious to me that she’s whispering, shielding her conversation from both Sasha and Lana. “Is he still there? Did you tell him he’s never getting her back?”
“You don’t have to worry about him again. Ever. It’s taken care of.” I keep my reply obscure. She doesn’t need details. She may not be a fan of the club’s rules regarding confidentiality, but, in this case, it’s for her own good. No way am I gonna let her be an accomplice. Even after the fact.
There’s a deep rustling over the phone as she exhales her relief. “Thank God. We’re coming home.”
I reach back behind an old cabinet near the clothes drier. “No. Not yet, Angel. Not yet.”
“Wha—what are you talking about, Dawson? I’m coming home!” She’s raising her voice.
“Angel! I’ve got shit to take care of; shit that I don’t want to touch you. Stay with Lana tonight. I’ll come get you two in the morning, okay? Tell Sasha I’ll come get you both in the morning.”
There’s a moment of silence on her end as she no doubt weighs her words and her actions, not at all pleased with my wishes for the night. I wait for her next protest while finding what I’m searching for in the secret alcove of the basement wall; the cell phone taken from the Mexican we killed over in Chisolm last year. The nephew of the head of the Conquistadors.
“I’m not stupid, Dawson. I know something’s going on. Stitch. The drugs planted at the club. Please. Please just be careful.” She pleads.
I close my eyes and let her words wash over me. “I know, Angel. I’ll be careful. Promise. I’ve got to come back home to my girls. They need me.”
There’s nothing to say after that. We both quietly end the call. I hope she’s able to find some peace tonight. At least for Sasha’s sake.
For my sake I hope I’m able to keep my word. I hope I’m able to walk out of this alive and come back to them just like I promised.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Nervous isn’t the right word to describe what I feel right now. Oddly enough, I’m excited. It’s shit like this that really makes you feel aliv gets the juices flowing. Knowing you’re walking into something that you most likely won’t be walking out of isn’t something that most people experience.
In this type of life, though, it happens often enough to become accustomed to it. Hell, to even welcome it, because then, and only then, do you feel how fragile life can be. That fragility is the reason I live like I do. I do what I want, when I want, because there’s no guarantee I’ll have another chance to do it.
That’s why when I saw Angel, when I knew that I wanted her, I just did it. No regrets. Ever.
I look around the clubhouse at the mess the cops made in their fruitless search. Almost every bottle behind the bar is broken or drained. Every bottle except one. A bottle of Johnny Walker Black. I thank the universe for small miracles.
Carefully rummaging through the pile of broken shards I find an intact shot glass and rinse it under the bar tap. I’m not opposed to drinking straight from the bottle, but my guest might not feel the same.
I check my watch. He should be here any moment.
Using my forearm, I push debris off one of the tables and take a seat. We’d agreed to come alone, but I have no guarantee that he’ll stick to his word. Actually, come to think of it … I’m not even positive it’s a man I’m meeting.
Once the hidden cell phone from my basement was charged, I sent a text message to set up the meeting to the contact inconspicuously labeled “TIO” or uncle in Spanish.
It was my best bet at getting to the leader of the Cartel. Josè Jimenez.
You see, he’s obviously declared vendetta against me for his nephew, acting upon that vow in the last couple of days in an onslaught from every angle. The attack on Stitch, breaking in here and planting the drugs that led to the mess in my club, and even Sasha’s pop showing up for her.
Those are the things I know for sure can directly be traced back to Jimenez. I don’t know for sure yet, but I’d even bet that Trixie’s childcare license being pulled has a little more than something to do with the Cartel as well.
No doubt he’s had his men setting this up for a while. Some of it at least. Little does he know that while he’s been planning his attack on me and my club I’ve been doing my own research, my own preparations.
I didn’t know for sure at the time if I’d ever need to act on the information I found, but I kept it handy just in case. Whoever walks through that door tonight, we’re gonna have a poker game. Each one of us are gonna play our hand and see who has the better cards.
The engine pulling up outside is a quiet one. It cuts off and I hear a car door shortly after. One car door. Either the person followed through with their end of the bargain by coming alone, or there’s backup somewhere.
I take another sip of the whiskey and savor the building heat that the liquor radiates through me as the front door to the club opens. A very lean, clean-cut man in a designer suit carrying a leather briefcase, walks in.
“Mr. McCade,” he greets me formally.
I nod. “Please have a seat, Mr.--”
“Aguilar. Simon Aguilar.” The introduction is completed.
I wave my hand signaling for him to take the seat opposite to me. He does, slowly, as we size each other up.
We must look like polar opposites, he and I.
“Thank you for coming,” I’m formally polite. Just because I look like an animal doesn’t mean I don’t know how to be civilized when I have to.
Simon Aguilar nods. “Of course, of course. Mr. Jimenez is very eager to end this business.”
I’ll bet he is. End it with me six feet under, that is.
“I hope it wasn’t too much of an inconvenience for you to come all this way?” I feign interest, but truly not giving a shit if he or his employer were inconvenienced.
I pour the clean shot glass full with whiskey and hold it out for him. He accepts it but doesn’t sip until I’ve taken a swig from the bottle from which his drink came.
Once satisfied that I haven’t attempted to poison him, he drinks from the small glass.
All pleasantries aside, it’s time to get down to business. “What does he want, Mr. Aguilar?”
The hinged latches of the briefcase laid on the table are opened, with a cell phone being taken out and placed on the table.
“What’s that?” I ask.
Simon Aguilar sits tall. “That, Mr. McCade is the phone I will use to give Mr. Jimenez your answer.”
I arch my eyebrow in curiosity. “My answer? I don’t recall a question.”
He smiles. “You have a choice to make, Mr. McCade.”
I take another sip of the bottle in my hand. “Do I now.”
“Yes,” he answers. “You see, it took quite some time for Mr. Jimenez to appreciate your … talents. The way you handled the situation with his favorite nephew, Alejandro. You see, at first, he wished for nothing more than a slow and painful death to be extolled onto you.”
“And now?” I prod.
Simon studies me. “And now he has come to realize that there may be a need for someone with your talents in his organization.”
I laugh. “I’m not really in the job market.”
He doesn’t seem amused. “When one becomes as powerful as Mr. Jimenez, he learns to control his impulses, his desires, for the greater good.”
“And whose good would that be?”
“The way Mr. Jimenez sees it, you owe him a debt. A debt that can in
no way be repaid in money. You took a life, a life that was dear to him. It is only fair that you repay that debt in kind.” Simon Aguilar tries to sound logical.
“In kind?” I ask.
He nods. “Mr. Jimenez will soon be expanding his territory. He wishes for you to support that expansion, as well as help secure the cooperation of those who don’t.”
“And if I don’t?” I’m eager to get to the meat of the ultimatum.
He looks disappointed. “If that unfortunate decision should be made then I believe those around you would not fare very well. I believe many of those you love have recently suffered tragic circumstances. It would be a shame if such terrible things should continue to befall those associated with you.”
I stare him in the eyes. That’s as close to an admission as I need for who’s responsible for the shit happening to my club, to my woman. Jiminez doesn’t know me, but he must know the kind of guy I am. No way in hell would I ever bow down to a piece of shit scumbag like him unless he had leverage over me.
The only leverage to gain over a guy like me is through my club and my Ol’ lady. That’s why those were the things he went after to send a little taste of what the repercussions could be for me.
“You say Mr. Jimenez has come to appreciate my talents?” I bait Simon. He doesn’t answer. His lack of a response is an answer in itself. “You see, I think Mr. Jimenez and I have more in common that he knows.”
Simon seems to become interested.
“We both know how to ensure that the other person does as we want.” I begin to explain. “Mr. Jimenez seems to have found the area he believes makes me weak. And I’ve found his.”
Simon tilts his head, being taken off guard.
“As long as he’s planned this, organized the things he’s done over the past few days, I’ve also done my own homework. And you can thank your boss for helping me with that.” I take another sip of the swishing bottle.
“And how should I relay that to him?” Simon wants to know.
I decide it’s finally time to show my cards. “You see, there’s no way a man like him, with an organization like his would waste time and resources coming after me unless there was an impulse, a personal motivation behind it. He started all this because he was enraged by what happened to his nephew. That in itself shows me his own weakness. His family. So while he’s busy planning what he’ll do to mine if I deny him, he should be more concerned about what will happen to his own family if he continues to come after mine.”
Simon Aguilar hides his reaction well, but I see his chest is no longer rising as he holds his breath.
“Mr. Jimenez has a very lovely daughter.” I state.
Simon’s eyes dart to the cell phone he’d placed on the table earlier. “Do you mind?”
I shake my head no. “By all means.”
Within seconds, Simon is calling a person to whom he speaks very quick Spanish with before disconnecting the call abruptly. “Where is she?”
I exhale, taking my time and enjoying turning the tables on my companion. “She’s fine. For now. Whether or not she stays that way will be entirely up to Mr. Jimenez.”
I let my words sink in. “No more attacks on my men. Every little thing that was done will be undone. Immediately. The Cartel doesn’t sell so much as an aspirin in my territory, otherwise I’ll consider it an act of aggression and I can no longer guarantee little Caterina’s safety. By all luck, we can have this matter resolved in plenty of time for her to start medical school next semester.”
Simon purses his lips tightly. “I see. Well, thank you for clarifying things, Mr. McCade. We will speak again. Until then, though, if one hair is harmed on her head you do realize the severity of the ramifications?”
I smile. “Of course. Consider her a guest of mine while her father and I sort out our differences. And just to be sure that she doesn’t have an unpleasant stay, please be assured that we’ve taken her to a more scenic location. One that’s a little more peaceful than here in Riverdale where someone might try to interrupt her vacation.”
“Mr. McCade.” He nods and then scurries off, no doubt to call his employer and explain the precarious predicament they’re in.
It worked.
We laid out our cards and mine trumped his. For the time being I have a little insurance policy to ensure not only my club’s survival, but the safety of everyone we love as well.
I know this cease-fire is temporary. I know it could fall apart at any time. But right now it is my only option. It gives me time to think. It gives me time to prepare.
It gives me time to get ready for what is most definitely coming my way.
EPILOGUE
DAWSON
One month later
“She out?” I hit the power button on the remote and toss it over to the empty side of the bed while asking Angel as she enters the bedroom quietly.
She smiles broadly and holds her finger up to her pink lips, nodding. “Shhh. She’s out like a light.”
Sasha’s had a handful of nights without any nightmares and we’re hoping we can add tonight to that list.
“Good. Now come to poppa,” I wiggle my eyebrows animatedly while rubbing my hands together like a mad man.
She laughs. I love how I can make her laugh so easily. I’ve watched carefully over the past few weeks at how she seems more relaxed, more confident, and just … happier.
I’ve done my best to hide everything that’s still going on from her, wanting to keep her carefree. There’ll come a time when this temporary truce between the Slayers and the Conquistadors will come to an end. It’s inevitable. And then, I know Angel will lose that laugh, will lose that smile.
But for now, it’s there, on her gorgeous little face and I’m going to enjoy every single minute of it. Hopefully Chase can keep things under control over on his end with Jimenez’s daughter long enough for me to find some plan, some solution, to end this Cartel shit peacefully while keeping it far away from Angel and the little life we got goin’.
“Miss me?” She jumps on the bed and crashes on top of me playfully.
I don’t waste time with a smartass answer. She knows how much I’ve missed her. She sees how much I’ve missed her, too, with my raging hard on poking her in the hip.
She’s been busy. I’ve been busy. It’s just the way it is.
But, tonight … tonight there’s nothing else going on. Just me and my Ol’ lady makin’ up for lost time.
She’s been busy gettin’ her ma all set up in the apartment over the garage and ferrying her back and forth to doctor’s appointments. I’ve been occupied up at the lake where Chase’s got the girl stashed.
That girl’s a real fucking brat with the temper of a hot tomalè. She’s driving him bat shit crazy. I try to make it up there every other day or so but it’s a real risk. I know I could be followed, could lead her pops right to her, but I also know if I leave the two of them alone in that place for too long, it’s gonna become a crime scene. Just not sure who’s gonna off the other first.
I’m so thankful to have Angel in my arms again to give me something else, someone else, to concentrate on right now.
“I’ve got something for you,” I know if I don’t give it to her now I won’t have another chance. Once I’m deep in this woman, all bets are off. We’re lucky if we make it out of the bedroom at some point.
Angel nips my lower lip. “What is it? Something like the last thing you gave me?”
I shake my head, laughing softly. I finally had a chance to give her the leather cut with my patches on it a couple of weeks ago. Yes, it may have also included a sexy little bra top and thong. The patches are for other people to see. What’s underneath? That’s just for me.
“Here, baby.” I fumble behind me for the small little cardboard box in my nightstand drawer as she plants little kisses over my chest.
“Eee!” She squeals in delight while taking the rectangle box from me.
I prop up a pillow and lean back to watch. It was pure luck tha
t one of the regulars down at the club, Harry, who owns one of the pawnshops, recognized Angel. She had been in his shop a while back, looking to hock some ring.
A plain gold ring with engraving. Simply beautiful.
She tosses the lid aside and moves the white gauzy padding to take the contents out, dangling it from the long golden chain I bought.
Her eyes sparkle and twinkle as the tiny golden links set her dazzling eyes on fire.
“I didn’t know if you wore it on your finger, or not, but I thought it would look really nice on a necklace. Here, let me.” I take the lightweight chain from her fingers and work the clasp.
She breathes in and whispers. “It—it was my grandmothers. I thought I’d never see it again.”
Her hair is held high as I place the long string of gleaming gold around her neck. Once it’s in place and hanging on its own, I kiss the tender spot gently. I can see her elegant fingers playing with the golden circle.
“Like it?” I murmur into her neck, tickling and teasing the very faint little hairs at the nape.
“Like it? I love it.” She brings the piece of jewelry up to her lips. “Actually. I have something for you, too.”
Wrapping my arms around her, I pull her back to lie on me with her long waves falling over my shoulders. “Yeah? How’d this turn into an exchange?”
I hear her lick her lips. “I’ve had it for a few days. Just didn’t—didn’t know how and when to tell you.”
I nibble her ear. “Tell me? It’s a gift you tell me about?”
I kiss a little trail from the bottom of her ear to the corner of her jaw. What could she have to give me that she’d have to tell me about?
My mouth goes dry. My fingers turn to ice. My eyes widen.
Whoa.
I remind myself to breathe and hold her close as I brace myself, holding her tight as I wait and listen for what she has to tell me.
