2. Inferno #2
“Somebody better start talking… make sure when you speak, that it’s of something very important.” I gripped the handle of my flamethrower and started to eye every man that sat around the table.
“We only answer to di Don.” I pointed my flamethrower in the no-name man’s direction and pressed my finger underneath the clutch.
“No answer to me?” I raised my thick brows and smirked.
His Adam’s apple moved up and down. “You’re scared but not that scared to test me.
Hmmm… that’s interesting. Big B, do me the honors.
” Everyone watched with wide eyes. Big B pulled a clear bottle that looked like water, out of his suit jacket.
He marched around the table until he was standing directly behind no name.
Taking the top of the lighter fluid and grabbing a handful of the man’s curly hair, he tilted his head back, then started pouring the fluid all over his face.
The remainder of fluid was dosed over his hair.
Visibly trembling and squeezing his eyes shut from them burning. The panic all over his face was noted.
“Seems like to me, you all need structure. I’m never the one to knock what my old man has established within his cartel. However, you all need an example of what the results are for not taking great care of your Don.”
I squeezed the trigger; the gas, I smelled first. Soon as the fire ignited, my eyes lit up.
The flame immediately picked up on the fluid and started melting his face like a candle.
The pungent smell had everyone but me, using their shirts as a mask.
This shit never got old to me; I loved playing with fire since a youngin’.
It’s how I got my name Inferno. The older I got the more obsessed I became with flames.
By now everybody was up on their feet moving far from the table. The smell of burnt hair annoyed me but the sight of him lying limp on the table with fire blazing off his body had me anxious to pick another pussy nigga, for the same treatment.
“One of you niggas, fetch a fire extinguisher. Clean this shit up.” I handed Big B my flamethrower and took a seat on the chaise that was close to the floor-to-ceiling window.
Pulling the blunt from behind my ear, I used my lighter torch to spark it.
The crackling and popping, sounded like music to my ears.
“It’s getting hot in hurr.” I nodded my head, singing.
“So hot!” Big B’s raspy voice recited the adlibs to the song as he maintained a nonchalant look on his face.
“So, take off all ya clothes,” I mumbled and inhaled my blunt.
“Y’all niggas is sick.” Killa shook his head and pulled his own blunt out.
“Fuck y’all looking at?” I frowned and chuckled when all eyes snapped away from mine. Someone was going answer to my father’s failed assassin.
“Excuse me, Mr. Ruiz, your father is awoke, and would like to speak with you now.” Saved by the bell, I nodded my head and watched a man walk in with a fire extinguisher. I stood to my feet and nodded to my two men to follow behind me.
“We smell like smoke.” Killa’s pretty boy ass complained as I handed my blunt off to Big B.
Ignoring Killa, I picked up my feet and made my way down the hallway to get to my father.
When I first arrived here, nurses were tending to him.
I couldn’t stand the sight of him like that, it almost broke me down to my knees.
I couldn’t even find my voice to ask where he had been shot, I just knew it was three times.
I took the steps three at a time, one thing about Mexico is, it had beautiful mansions overlooking the ocean.
My father’s estate sat up high giving you the best view of Mexico.
Coming back brought back memories of my childhood.
My father showered all of his kids with love, he always knew that out of all his kids that I would follow right behind him.
I knew at a young age how powerful my father was.
I saw it every day and every time we left the house.
Grown men would bow their heads whenever he appeared.
Most was too scared to look him in the eyes.
I attended all of my father’s weddings and thought it was normal.
None of his wives except my mother got the courtesy of living here in this house.
I was his firstborn, and after the fifth kid, I stopped counting how many he produced.
That fifth kid was the reason my mother left and went back to California.
I remember spending my summers in Mexico and going right back to California.
I was close with two of my sisters, the others looked at me like I was the special kid.
They were jealous that our father put my mother first before their mothers.
I didn’t give a damn; I also didn’t care to get to know any of them.
By my siblings and their mothers, they treated me differently and looked at me oddly.
I was the only kid from my father mixed with half Mexican and black.
I took after my black roots more. My skin tone was the color of Frappuccino, my eyes came from my father.
Everything else was on my beautiful mom.
“Mi hijo (my son),” my father gave me a weak smile.
I remained quiet for a while. It’s what I did when I needed to think and take something in.
Right now, I was observing my father closely.
I walked further into the dimly lit room.
They had lots of pillows piled up behind him.
My father was fifty-three years old and didn’t look a day over thirty.
His curly black hair didn’t have not even one piece of gray added to it.
“How many men, ju kill?” He laughed lowly. I finally cracked a smile and bowed my head until both of our foreheads were touching. Standing up, I pulled a chair close to his bedside. Killa and Big B showed respect and shook his free hand. I noticed his left hand had heavy bandaging.
“Just one pops, I really want to kill all.” I gritted.
Leaving out the fact that one of my men killed two brothers, I was still telling the truth because the fact was that I only killed one.
I wished like hell he wasn’t close to Callista’s father.
I wanted to kill her ass too. She didn’t take no for an answer, and she always tried her hardest to get back in my good graces no matter how much she knew that I despised her.
“Controla tu ira (Control your anger).” He gave me a serious look.
“I will, once I know what is going on.” His eyes lowered, he looked away from me. This was big, I could see the uncertainty on my father’s face.
“Kill and B, let me and my father speak.” They moved out the room and shut the door behind them. My father cleared his throat.