32. Elias
32
Elias
" T hat's him?"
I tipped my head toward the man sitting in the back seat with me in my Mercedes, his bleeding nose soaking his shirt and jeans.
He nodded. " Si . Green shirt."
"Thank you, Gomez." I unlocked his door, and it swung open.
Javier reached inside, grabbed Gomez's arm, and yanked him out of the vehicle, tossing him on the side of the road before I dropped the picture to the seat he'd occupied.
Javier settled in the front seat. "Where to?"
"Let's crash his little outing. He'll be comfortable there."
"Do you want to wait until dark?"
I glanced up into the sky, the sun close to setting. "What's the fun in that?"
He laughed, and Rodrigo turned the vehicle into valet parking for the all-inclusive resort.
I snagged my suit jacket off the center console and slid it over my shoulders before stepping out of the vehicle as Javier met me on the other side, then fastened the button into place.
"I'll get the staff out of the way."
"No need."
My shoes clicked on marbled floors as we moved through the hotel entrance, beyond the welcoming staff, and through to the back, where a man with salt and pepper hair sat with his wife and two young children.
"Ready?" I adjusted my suit cuffs, fixed my pistol at my back, and took a deep breath.
Javier snickered as we stepped closer to their seats. "Yes. "
"Hello, Mrs. Patraeus." I wrapped my fingers around the chair tucked beneath the table and pulled it away. I sat, unbuttoning my suit jacket, Javier taking his position behind Carter. "Why don't you and the ni?os grab some ice cream? I hear they have a wonderful selection. On me." I reached into my jacket pocket and pulled out my wallet, distributing one hundred Pesos.
Carter frowned, his gaze bouncing between me and Javier as I put my wallet away. "What do you want?"
I held my finger up, pausing his inquisition. "Stand up and take your children, Mrs. Patraeus. I won't be courteous again."
Her throat bobbed as she nodded, her hands shaking. She stood, her chair scraping against the stone surface. "Come on, kids."
"Mommy, what's going on?" She took them both by the hand and walked them out. "Who is that man?"
Her gaze flipped back to us, her luck at an all-time high.
"What is the meaning of this?" Carter's teeth clenched as he leaned in, his voice low and abrasive. "Who are you?"
"My name is Elias Hernández." I sat back in my seat and spread my knees, commanding the area around me. "Perhaps you've heard of me?"
The blood drained from his cherry-red cheeks as he leaned away, his breaths quickening the movement of his chest.
"What…I… I have done nothing wrong. I'm on vacation with my family."
"So you have heard of me?"
He let out a nervous scoff. "Everyone's heard of you. The prodigal son, more ruthless than his father could've ever been."
"He has heard of me, Javier." I tipped my head back with a sneer. "Although I'm far from the 'prodigal son,' I like to think I carved the name for myself."
He nodded. "I'm only relaying what I've heard."
I leaned in, my elbows braced on my knees. "Do you want to know what I've heard about you, Carter?"
"I'm just a computer salesman." His gaze surveyed our surroundings. "How did I get your attention?"
A wild smile formed as I flicked a crumb from the table to the floor. "Carter Patraeus, age fifty-five. Wife, Julia, thirty-two, gave birth to the two brats you were sitting with, Brandon and Cora." I inhaled and leaned back in my chair. "You know who I am, and I know who you are." He shook his head as though to deny the public information. "Did you honestly think I wouldn't know every little detail about your life before sitting across from you?"
"No. No. Of course not." Carter’s knuckles bleached white as he strained against the armrests.
"I'd hope you wouldn't think I'd be so ill-prepared."
"Whatever I've done? I'll make it up to you."
I tipped my head to the side, sat back in my seat, and crossed my ankle over my knee. "Oh, I'm afraid there is nothing you can do to make up for this little transgression."
"Help me understand." He shook his head, a bead of sweat running down both sides of his forehead. "What have I done?"
"Why don't you stand up and come with me?"
"Come on. We can work this out." Carter stood, his Hawaiian shirt sticking to his sides.
I stood and buttoned my suit jacket, meeting him eye for eye, my jaw clenched and fire burning through my veins. "We're beyond that, I'm afraid."
His chair lurched backward and toppled to the ground, the metallic crash echoing through the air as he sprang onto his sandals and bolted through the patio towards the beach.
Tables shifted in his wake, the clatter of utensils and glasses spotlighting his evasion. Raised voices mingled with the ambient buzz as Javier and I stayed in place, tracking his frantic sprint through the rows of dining tables.
Couples and families, mid-bite, turned in surprise at the disruption, their dinners forgotten amidst the chaos.
"Should we chase him?"
"Tell them to be ready." I pulled in a deep breath.
A tight line formed between Carter's eyes as he glanced over his shoulder from his frenzied sprint, sand scattering behind him as he stumbled.
We retraced our steps through the hotel welcome center, exiting through the valet parking area while Javier spoke to my waiting team. Rodrigo opened my door, and I slid inside.
Unbuttoning my suit jacket, I slipped it off my shoulders as he closed the door behind me, placing it on the console. They sat in the front of the vehicle and drove off, parking a mile down the road on a darkened street.
Rolling my sleeves up to my elbows, I tucked my cufflinks into my pockets. "Now we wait."
"I take it you didn't tell her that's why we're here?"
I rested my elbow on the window jam. "Why would I do that?"
"You are doing this for her."
"I don't want it weighing on her mind."
Javier glanced at me. "Perhaps it would encourage her to open up a bit. You know, tit for tat."
This isn’t an act of leverage…
The doors swung open a moment later, and Ramirez thrust Carter Patraeus into my vehicle, his sweaty, heaving face sliding against my leather seats.
"Welcome back, Carter." He groaned, and my fist crashed into his temple, rendering him limp like a tub of jelly.
Ramirez thrust his limp legs into the vehicle and slammed the door shut.
"Let's go. We have so much to do."
A brief car ride to the southern district had us arriving at a dim, dilapidated house that had served as a base for my sicarios on more than one occasion.
"Bring him in and make sure he doesn't attract more attention." Slipping out of the car, I walked into the building with Carter's feet dragging along the cracked cement.
"Put him right there." I pointed to the dining table in the center of the room
Javier and Rodrigo wrapped the thick rope tight around his feet and the chair he sat on, then placed his hands on the surface of the table.
"Wake him." I walked into the kitchen and snagged two large knives from the butcher block.
A crisp snap echoed in the room, followed by Javier's jovial laughter.
Carter woke with a groan, Ramirez pinning his wrists to the table as I walked back. His eyes bulged. "What's this?" He glanced around. "No. No. No. Please." He jerked against his hold as I stood in front of him.
"Too late, cabrón . It's the end of the road for you."
Ramirez stepped aside, and my knives came down on Carter's hands, piercing through bone, tendon, and table, his screams shattering the crisp night air.
His mouth gaped, saliva dribbling over his lips as though his jaw locked in an open position. "Carter." I grimaced at the shiny trail pooling on the table. "How is it that a puta like you lands a wife like that?"
"Especially since we know she 's like the Virgin Mary in the sheets." Javier laughed. "There's no way she's kinky."
" Uh, Jefe ." Luis, a guard keeping watch, poked his head into the room. "There's a girl here."
"Move aside, I don't need an introduction." A woman with brunette hair pushed through, clad in black jeans and a leather jacket. "Pooch. You started without me?"
I gripped my pistol and pointed it at the woman in the door.
"You're one dumb bitch, Charity." Javier's shoulders widened as he stared at his nemesis.
"That's no way to speak to a lady." She laughed and put her hands up in a mocking gesture as though she had no fear I'd put a bullet through her head, then leaned to the side, catching a glimpse of Carter, who moaned behind me.
I lowered my weapon and tucked it behind me. "What are you doing here?"
"So, funny story." She lowered her hands. "That guy was slated to land on my table."
"That's not going to happen," Javier took two steps towards her, and I snapped my fingers, halting him mid-stride.
"And how would Arturo feel about his princess being back on my land?"
She winced. "He's sick and relinquished all control to Luca."
"So Luca's no longer taking orders from his papi ."
Charity shivered and stepped into the room. "It sounds so weird when you say it like that."
"Like what?"
" Papi .
Carter groaned behind me. "Charity, you better get to the point."
"I need him."
"No."
"But I like, really, really, need him." She took a step to the side. "Hi, Carter." She waved, and I stepped between them.
"My patience is running thin."
"To be fair, it always has."
"I've been working on it." I inhaled a deep breath.
"Help…me." Carter whimpered.
Charity snorted. "Carter, my guy, you're lucky Pooch made it to you before I did because I'd have had you hung up and carving your tendons already." She raised a brow and tilted her head. "Quite frankly, this looks like child's play, Pooch. I expected more from you with all your posturing."
Javier turned to me. "Can I kill her, now?"
"Relax." I held a hand up. "What do you need him for?"
"Well, see this little punk box fashioned a computer laden with spyware for the US Government and sold it to Nico, then packed up and went on this little family vacation on the taxpayer's dime…"
"And?"
"Oh." She laughed, then stripped her smile from her face. "I'm here to kill him."
Carter let out a yowl. "Run back to Luca and tell him the job's been handled."
She plastered a faux frown. "Without getting blood on my hands?"
"Yes, Charity."
"Not even a little bit?"
I sat in the chair beside Carter, the unrelenting string of drool pooling beneath him. "Not even a little. He's mine and more useful than your petty government overreach."
"I mean, it's not really overreaching as it is valid—"
"Goodbye, Charity."
"Fine." She pulled out her phone and snapped a picture. "He's gonna want evidence."
"Don't come back here again."
"No problem-o." She gave a mock salute. "Also, some of your guys are gonna have a bit of a headache when they wake up." She disappeared around the corner.
"I'm going to kill her." Javier moved towards the door.
"Settle down." I propped my ankle on my knee, my gun digging into my back. "We can't risk a war with the Morenos."
"But we could before?"
"I didn't have the unrest as I do now." I sighed and kept my eyes on the door for a while longer, then turned to Carter. "What were we saying before?" I crossed my arms over my chest. "Oh, right. How did you get a wife like that?"
"I…What do you mean?" His lower lip hung as though I'd severed the muscles holding it up.
"You like to carve up women, right?"
He shook his head. "I don't know what you mean." The string of saliva snapped as he spoke. "Is that what this is about?" His muscles trembled as his fingers shook against the table and knives. "Since when does the cartel play vigilante?"
A smile crept over my face. "There is no vigilante work here, Carter."
"Okay, so what?"
I scoffed and pushed off the table. "I don't care about your devious desires. That's not my issue—"
"Then, let me go."
I lunged and snagged the knife handle, giving it a half turn. His screams radiated from his lungs, piercing my ears. "Do not interrupt me." I sneered, bearing my teeth. "Where's Andrés Ortiz?"
His swollen, wet eyes shifted to the left as I released the knife holding him and stepped towards the shelf cut into the wall with the saint positioned there.
Carter shook his hanging head, the wrinkles in his face deeper as he frowned. "I haven't seen that asshole since he broke my legs. And for what? Some dumb bitch."
I struck a long match along the box and lit the candle at the base, my insides roiling with violence. "Do you know what this statue means, Carter?"
"N-no."
" Santa Muerte ." I tossed a silver coin at the saint's feet and turned back to him, saying a quick prayer before touching the table. "Our patron saint of death."
"What does that have to do with Andrés?"
I laughed. "Nothing. Under the gaze of Santa Muerte, no bad deeds make it to God’s eyes, and the silver coins ensure that. It means no matter what I do to you today, it will be as though it never happened."
The man blubbered as I picked another sharpened steel knife off the butcher's block and walked behind him.
"Where is Andrés?"
"I don't know. He picked up and left soon after I got out of the hospital. He never stays in one place for long. Please."
My teeth ground against one another, my jaw clenched tight.
"I told you what you wanted to know."
"It would have never been good enough." I slashed the knife from the base of his neck to the end of his shirt, working around his body until the shirt fell away. Blood dribbled from the nicks and long slashes, his cries for mercy falling on deaf ears.
"A pound of flesh seems fair. Don't you agree?"
Carter cried out before my knife struck his belly, carving a few jagged lines, then moved to his back .
By the time I'd finished, torn ribbons of flesh hung from his back, and a puddle of blood pooled beneath his chair, his sandals stained crimson.
His cheek rested on the table, and adrenaline pulsed through my veins.
"Please. No…more."
"I'll leave you with this mercy."
I held my hand out to Javier. He placed a ball-peen hammer in my palm along with Carter's American driver's license and a singular nail.
"This is for Grace." I stood over the top of him, slapped his ID to his forehead, and drove the nail through both plastic and bone in two hard hits, his dead eyes staring up at me.
My breath heaved in my chest as I tossed the hammer away. "Hang him up on the bridge for everyone to see. Make sure his family makes it home quietly. Their vacation is over."
Javier nodded as I placed two silver coins in each of the clean-up crew's hands.
"Now, let’s get back."
I have a girl to see and a phone call to make.