7. Elias
7
Elias
" M amá." I rounded the corner to her bedroom, tipped my head inside, and glanced around.
Where the hell did she go?
"Si, mi vida."
She stepped out of the massive pantry, wiping her glistening hands on her apron.
"Did you tell these men to chop down the tree?" I pointed towards the backyard where the two men went to work, sawing it into movable pieces.
"Yes. It was rotten from the inside and leaning towards the veranda. I didn't want anyone to get hurt."
"I had it on Pedro's list for this weekend. You can't just invite anyone beyond those gates."
She placed her hands on her hips and huffed. " Mi consentido. This is my home. I decide who comes and goes."
A bubble formed in my chest as I set my jaw. Javier's snickers down the hall set my hand into a fist.
"We are at war, Mamácita."
She dropped her hands and shrugged. "When are we not, Elias?"
"That's not the point."
"Don't speak with disrespect." She brushed past me into the kitchen, where she’d dusted the island counter in corn flour and a tortilla press.
Javier snickered again, and I narrowed my gaze. His lips pressed together, and his smile evaporated before I turned back to her. "I'm only looking out for your safety."
"And I appreciate everything you do. But I've lived this way longer than you've been alive."
I leaned against the door frame and crossed my arms over my chest. "Things are different than they were thirty-six years ago."
She shook her head and pressed the dough flat between the metal plates. "The rules are always the same. Someone lives, and someone dies."
"Let's not make you sooner than it needs to be."
Her shoulders sagged as she exhaled with a huff. " Mi hijo. I'm seventy years old. I've lived a good life. I'm not afraid of death." She ran her fingers across her brow, chest, and shoulders, making the sign of a cross. "God willing, I go peacefully." She glanced up to the ceiling and kissed her flour-covered fingers.
"If you keep letting people in, it won't be."
"Go back to your side of the house. It was much more peaceful then." She rolled out another ball of dough and placed it in the press with a smile.
"Because you know I'm right."
"If your papa were here…"
I rolled my shoulder backward along the doorframe and walked away from her before she could finish her infamous threat.
"I swear if she had the energy, she'd throw her chanclas at you." Javier dug his long, serrated pocket knife under his nails as I walked up.
"She is losing her mind one piece at a time." I stuck my hand in my pocket. "Get those men out of here, and get Pedro to finish the job."
Javier nodded, folded his knife, dropped it in his pocket, and pulled out his phone. He thumbed out a text, then put it away. "Emilio will escort them out and pay them."
I gave him a slight nod as we walked out onto the patio and sat on the cushioned outdoor chairs. "Add more security around. Vet them this time. I don't want another Joaquin putting his nose in my business."
"It's impossible to find good help these days."
Javier sat across from me as his thumbs moved over his phone's screen, the religious tattoos stretching across his skin as he moved.
" Plata o plomo. It isn't hard."
He nodded as he concentrated on his messages going out, doing my bidding without a second thought.
My childhood friend turned second in command, my bodyguard, and my chief advisor. We mulled things over together, but I made the final decision.
"Is our meeting still on with Salomon?"
He nodded again. "Yes. Three days from now. He had a function to attend first and wanted to cancel…" A smirk spread across his face. "I told him he wasn't wise to keep you waiting."
"Good. Good. I remember when the Governors feared us. Just the sight of us alone had them emptying their pockets."
"You were five."
"Still old enough to remember."
"Some say your papa was more ruthless than you."
I stared out into the blue skies, beyond the crystal-clear pool with a waterfall at the end, and inhaled. "Did the fear keep him alive?"
Javier bobbed his head. "For a time."
"But not long enough."
Ping.
Javier glanced down at his phone, and I jutted my chin as I waited.
"Pedro is here."
"Tell him to be quiet about it. Last thing I need is Mamá seeing him out there." I turned my silver cufflinks as his thumbs did my talking, then pulled down my sleeves. "How is Grimaldo handling the exposure?"
"He said it's all under control and not to worry. He's taking care of the General."
"Define 'taking care'."
He rubbed his jaw. "Paid him three thousand pesos."
I raised my brow. "That's it?"
"Yes."
"You'd think they'd value themselves more.”
"They know their worth and know they are replaceable. They wouldn't push their luck."
" Hmm ." I crossed my ankle over my knee and focused on the perfected inseam on my suit pants. "Have there been any more executions?"
Javier stood and helped himself to the Tequila bar, the large oak leaf fan spinning above his head. "A few. Just to send a warning out that we are aware of their movements."
"Nothing too public? I don't want to do damage control for the city."
"A few heads in boxes, but mild compared."
"And our neighbors?"
He handed me a shot of tequila before sitting. "They're branching out, but you have people in place to handle that."
"Send Ximén in. We don't want them getting the wrong idea."