Los Zetas Cartel Collection (3 book series)

by AJ Adams

  Solitaire comes across like a hardnosed bitch sometimes, but she’s got real heart. Me, I wouldn’t give a rat’s ass about a bunch of hos, but she had mothered and bullied them, and now she was terrified her chicks would fuck up. She was scared, because if they did, she’d kick them out. She’d have to – keeping a thief or blackmailer would ruin the business. She knew it, and I knew it, but she was worried because she cared for her girls, whereas I would have wiped the lot out if they upset my sirena and not regretted it. I love her, see, and I can’t bear to see her hurt.

  The men grumbled a bit when they learned what her plans were, but most of them decided they were proud their boss had a woman of substance. They told stories of how she’d take down anyone who crossed her and began referring to her as jefa, just like Luz and the girls did.

  Funnily enough, even Mateo developed a soft spot for Solitaire. His mum was a pro when she met my father, and from the stories, her pimp was a right bastard. As such, Mateo has always had a problem with that part of our business. He does the books, but he’s very, very hard on the men who run our clubs. It’s terrific for me because Mateo won’t let them get away with anything.

  Anyway, Mateo thawed towards Solitaire when he came back from the States and walked in on her role-playing with her girls. Fuentes was back with us at that point, and she’d roped him in to play the difficult customer. Another man might have resented it, but he seemed to enjoy himself.

  “What do you say to this man who wants to go bareback?” Solitaire asked.

  “No happy hat, no pussy!” the girls chorused.

  Mateo stood open-mouthed. “Fucking awesome!” he breathed.

  “Hardly,” Chumillo said sourly. “They’re not putting out.”

  Mateo thought it hilarious, and for once he smiled. “I love it,” he breathed. “Jesus will do his nut!”

  Typical Mateo. His biggest pleasure came from other people being pissed off. I saw Chumillo frown and sighed. Mateo can never speak but put his foot in it. Actually, I felt kind of sorry for him. “Glad it makes you happy,” I said mildly. I was about to quietly edge him out when he half waved at Fuentes.

  “I heard he was visiting,” Mateo said. “He looks just like his picture.”

  That was a surprise. “You know him? How?”

  “About a year ago Chumillo asked me to find out about import duties for tequila in Morocco,” Mateo said. “Duties and excise are sky-high. Someone suggested Fuentes, but he only smuggles, he doesn’t have a distribution network.”

  As I said, it’s a small world. “And you didn’t meet him?”

  “No. He couldn’t help us,” Mateo snapped. “It’s not like I have time to jet set for the fun of it!”

  “Of course not! I wasn’t criticising.”

  Thankfully at this point Fuentes came over. “I warned you, Arturo,” he laughed. “Solitaire learned to handle the sex trade in Amsterdam, and she doesn’t have time for anyone who tries to impose the old rules. Forget pimps who take half, or houses that demand full payment on the first three customers of the day. From now on, all your houses will be managed by the girls.”

  “Sounds great to me!” Then I took the opportunity to sick him with my bad tempered half brother. “Miguel, I hear you already know Mateo?”

  Miguel held out his hand, “You’re Mateo, Arturo’s brother and accountant. Great to finally meet you!”

  I was standing behind and to the side of Mateo, and when they shook hands, I got the shock of my life: Mateo was staring into Fuentes’ eyes, and he had a huge hard-on.

  I pretended not to see and went off to get beers, but thinking about it later, it made sense. It explained why I’d never seen him with a girl, and why he was so damn grouchy all the time. It’s not easy to be gay in the cartel. Mateo would have to be careful to hide his true nature, and that would take a toll on anyone’s temper.

  I wondered if I should make arrangements to move Mateo to LA or London. It would be easier for him to lead a double life in a big city, but on the other hand, his mother was in a nursing home now. She didn’t have much family, so he might not want to go.

  While I was wondering if I should do or say something, Miguel and Mateo were getting on like a house on fire, talking about nightlife in Europe. By the time Solitaire was done with her girls, they’d covered London and Paris and were discussing Rome.

  “Love the place!” Mateo said. “For dancing and live music –”

  “Muccassassina!” Miguel and Mateo chorused together.

  Miguel grinned at me. “Three floors of music, and there’s a pasta place round the corner that does a fantastic fungi. Solitaire loves that place.”

  He meant well, but every time he brought up her past, Solitaire became uptight. I don’t think anyone else noticed because she hid it well, but her eyes had a way of turning steely that told me my girl was irritated.

  “Solitaire doesn’t remember Rome or fungi, but she is starving,” Solitaire said calmly. “I’ll go see what Luz is making us for supper.”

  She disappeared, Miguel went off for a piss, and Mateo turned to me. “I heard about Fuentes and wondered what he’d be like,” he said. “He seems a good man.”

  I’d heard about gay-dar, but I wasn’t sure if it was a real thing or not. “Um, yes. He’s Solitaire’s ex.”

  “I gathered that.” Mateo was brisk. “Is Solitaire okay? It can’t be easy for her having him turning up, talking about things she doesn’t remember.”

  I was instantly defensive. “Solitaire’s fine!”

  Mateo shrugged. “Of course.”

  I regretted my tone instantly. “Sorry. It’s been a long day. What I meant was, it bothers me but not her.”

  “She’s not getting her memory back? I thought those things were temporary.”

  “It seems the memory comes back sometimes, but not yet in her case.”

  “Not even a little bit?”

  “No. Nothing.”

  Frankly, I was surprised by his interest, because Mateo seldom thinks about others. Maybe he was finally growing up.

  “That’s rough.” Mateo shook his head. “If there’s anything I can do, ask.”

  “Thanks.” I saw the cast had come off his wrist. “Everything healed?”

  “Yes. I have to be careful for a month, that’s all.”

  “Excellent. How was LA?”

  “Great. The papers are on your desk. I swung by Miami on the way home. Just for a spot check. Everything’s fine, and that report is on your desk, too.”

  He really was efficient. “Mateo, would you want to live in LA? Or London?”

  “What?” He was taken aback. “Aren’t you happy with my work?”

  “Yes, of course. But if you’re bored with small town life –”

  Mateo shook his head. “I like being in headquarters. This is where the decisions are made.”

  “All right. Let me know if you change your mind.”

  “Sure.”

  Mateo hesitated. “I got you a book.” He dug in his briefcase. “I didn’t want to upset Solitaire, but I thought you might want to read it.”

  Isn’t it amazing how people can surprise you? “Thanks.” I really was taken aback. “Listen,” I said impulsively. “Stay for the party. It’s Miguel’s last night.”

  “I’d like to,” Mateo said. “I can take him to the airport after.”

  Really, Mateo appeared to be turning over a new leaf. He stayed for the party, talked like a sensible man and took Fuentes to the airport as promised.

  Solitaire talked nice, kissed Fuentes goodbye and heaved a sigh of relief when he was gone. “He’s okay,” she said. “But every time he tells me what I was like in Amsterdam or what I did in Tétouan, I want to tell him to go to blazes.”

  I knew Solitaire decided she was staying in denial, but her dreams worried me, and so did the visions that were triggered by glimpses in windows and mirrors. She never told me about them, but I could see her flinch sometimes, and so I knew she still saw her ghosts.


  When everyone left, I sat her down. “I’m worried about those flashes of yours,” I told her. “You may not need to talk, but I do.”

  Solitaire gave me a hard look. “That’s sneaky, Arturo.”

  “Yeah, I thought it would be the only appeal that might work.”

  “You got that right.” Then she shrugged and sighed. “If you’re really worried, then okay. What’s up?”

  “You’re having nightmares.”

  Solitaire shifted. “They’re just dreams.”

  “About the man who attacked you? With the machete?”

  “Sometimes.”

  “Tell me, sirena. Don’t leave me in the dark.”

  Solitaire stood up. “I’m having a G&T. Want a beer?”

  “Okay.” I waited patiently. It had to be heavy, if she had to psych herself up first.

  Solitaire came back, sipped her drink and sighed. “My dreams are like bubbles, Arturo. It’s like I see a tiny bit, a fragment, and then over time the memory expands.”

  “I see. So your flashes are getting longer?”

  “Yes. You know how I kept seeing my mum in a hospital bed? Well, now when I dream, I’m seeing her, and then there’s this man who comes to take me away. We drive through the streets, and I’m sitting in the back of the car with my wrists cuffed behind my back. Then there’s a wobbly bit, and I’m in a bed and he’s on top of me.”

  “Who was he?”

  “It’s a policeman. I think it’s when I was arrested for theft. They must have picked me up when I went to see mum.”

  My beer glass shattered in my hand. “Sorry.”

  After we swept it up, Solitaire smiled. “I knew you’d be upset. But Arturo, it’s in the past. Not just in the past but it’s like someone else’s past.”

  “Still want to kill the fucker.”

  “If I ever remember his name, you’ll be the first to know.”

  “I know where to start looking.”

  Solitaire looked sceptical. “Really?”

  “You were framed for theft by your father’s partners, remember? Kyle’s sources said you blackmailed them after, using the money to set up a fund for your mom.”

  “Right,” Solitaire said slowly. “If they set it up, they’ll have asked a crooked plod to help them.”

  “That’s what I’m thinking.”

  I resolved to have Jorge send someone round to check it out, pronto. Once I had names, I’d take care of it. Miserable fucks who rape kids should be iced, no two ways about it. And as there are plenty of people who think the same way, I’d probably not even have to pay a contractor more than expenses.

  “Escamilla said I was going to have a last gang bang before I went out,” Solitaire said suddenly. “I thought he meant you and the crew, but I bet it’s well known in London what went on. I mean, there’ve been tonnes of scandals of kids being raped while in care, right?”

  “Yup.” I hated even thinking of it.

  Solitaire sighed. “Arturo, don’t go overboard, okay? Promise me that you’ll have absolute proof before you start taking people out.”

  She knows me so well. “Promise, sirena.”

  We sat there for a while, sipping our drinks.

  “I could have asked Miguel to tell me chapter and verse about my past,” Solitaire sighed finally, “but I didn’t want to. I can’t like him very much, and I didn’t want him to know how vulnerable I feel.”

  “I understand, sirena.” I did too. I wouldn’t want someone knowing my weaknesses, either. “But I’m afraid you were pretty good at covering your tracks. You’ve had several names, and you’ve worked for different outfits, so some of your past is just too difficult to uncover.”

  “You asked Kyle?”

  “Yes. He didn’t come up with much.”

  “Oh, well, I guess I was good at disappearing then.” She paused, but I knew there was more. Something that had come back really bothered her, so much so that she hesitated to tell me. “And the rest of it, querida?”

  “I remember working topless in Amsterdam. There’s a bit where my boobs are wobbling while doing a pedicure. The man whose feet I’m doing is Miguel, so I guess that’s how we met.” Solitaire hesitated and then rushed on. “And I think I worked in an Italian whorehouse.”

  So that was it. “No way. You’ve never been a pro.” I was certain of it.

  “But I have all these flashes about girls walking about in nothing but lingerie, and me counting money.” Solitaire said nervously.

  “Solitaire, there’s no way. I’d know.”

  “Maybe I was an accountant?”

  She was joking, but I wasn’t. “That is very probable. I’d say you ran the place.”

  “It would explain why I know the charge for oral sex is twenty-five euros, and swallowing is twenty-five more.”

  I couldn’t help laughing. “Don’t tell my sisters!”

  Solitaire got the giggles. “Arturo, whatever I was, I was never a nice girl!”

  “You’re the perfect girl for me.”

  Those big sapphire eyes looked into mine. In the past few weeks I had tried to imagine what it would be like to lose my memory, and the idea scared the hell out of me. Solitaire refused to acknowledge it, but she was living with a considerable burden. If I could have helped her, carried it for her, I would have.

  “Arturo, despite what you might think, you’re not all-powerful.” Solitaire was grinning at me. “This whole thing is a pain in the arse, but there’s nothing to be done about it. Also, it’s not killing me, so stop worrying.”

  I reflected that Solitaire was well named – strength and beauty in equal measure. Her beauty had slayed me the first time I’d set eyes on her, and now that I knew her, it was hard to know if it was her heart or mind that I loved most. I knew one thing for certain: she had my soul.

  “Solitaire, will you marry me?”

  The words ripped out of me. They floated in the air, hanging in sudden silence. Solitaire sat looking at me, not saying a word, and I suddenly realised I’d fucked up.

  “I should have gone on one knee,” I groaned. “Or hired a skywriter plane. I don’t even have a ring!”

  Solitaire was grinning. “Couldn’t wait?”

  “Not another second.”

  She kissed me softly. “Yes, I would love to marry you.”

  Now it was my turn to just sit there, completely speechless.

  “Are you okay?” Solitaire laughing at me. “Want to take it back?”

  “No! God, no!” Then I was babbling. “I love you so much. I’m just –”

  I could feel tears coming into my eyes. Crazy huh? I’ve only been that happy a handful of times in my life: when I found Loli and she was unharmed, when my nieces and nephews were born, and that time a bomb went off and Kyle had stepped out of the building a minute before.

  Solitaire sighed happily. “Happily ever after. Isn’t it great?”

  “Awesome.”

  We had that happy moment, and that’s when it all began to fall apart.

  Chapter Twenty-Two: Solitaire

  “Let’s have a party tonight to announce the news.” It was just before six, and the sun was barely up, but Arturo was so excited that he couldn’t sleep. I had been unable to sleep either, not from joy but because I was haunted by dreams of being locked in a cage. It was so real that I kept waking up, thinking I could feel bars underneath my bones.

  As we were both awake, we’d had an early morning bonk, and now we were having coffee on the terrace by the pool. At least I was having coffee and staring out at the Technicolor dawn, but Arturo was planning furiously.

  “There’s a great band playing in the Dallas Hilton, we’ll get them over. I’ll send the plane. And Luz can do her roast lamb. Or would you like steak? Let’s do both.”

  The juggernaut was in full force. In fifteen more minutes, he’d have the dress, music and cake picked out. At least I knew who the flower girls would be.

  “I’ve called Kyle,” Arturo said. “He sent his love, and he’s
coming over later with Chloe. It’s too early to call Loli and Julia.”

  “Your sisters may not be too happy.”

  “Loli was saying the other day that you’re not too bad, and Julia didn’t disagree.”

  “I’m so flattered! I can’t say the same of them, though.”

  “Meow!”

  “If we’re having a party, I’ll call Chloe and tell her to skip lunch and come tonight. I’m sending my girls off today, so I’ll be tied up all morning.”

  “What are your plans for today?”

  “The girls are arriving at nine, and I’m meeting with Rafa at breakfast to discuss the next group.”

  “The next group?”

  “He’s giving two clubs in town a make-over. It’s a good time to switch the staff over to the new system.”

  “Oh? This was his idea?”

  “It will be.”

  “Will it?”

  “Once Kyle, Quique and Pedro Rojo tell him they approve, it will be.”

  Arturo thought for a moment. I knew he was on the fence with this. Part of him loved what I was doing, but a small part worried that he might look as if he were going soft. In Arturo’s mind soft meant weak, and weak was dangerous. I knew he’d want to do the right thing, so I let him think it through.

  Arturo sighed. “I guess if it works in Amsterdam, it will work here.”

  “Turnover will be the same, but the girls get more, and the house gets less.”

  “How much less?”

  “About five percent.”

  “Is that all?” Arturo asked surprised.

  “You lose on the commission, but you save on management.” I laid it out for him. “See, it’s really swings and roundabouts.”

  “More like sex swings,” Arturo grinned. “They won’t have seen many of those in Reynosa or Matamoros.”

  “Now they can buy them from us.”

  Arturo choked on his coffee. “What?”

  “Boutiques sell accessories and makeup; we sell condoms, lube and toys. Sex swings weren’t on the list, but they will be. Chumillo has put me in contact with a factory you own some shares in, so we’re getting a great deal. I’m hoping those sales will make up for the five percent.”

  “You’re kidding!” Arturo was incredulous. “Why haven’t we done this before?”