Emiliano
EARTHQUAKE
What the fuck has she done to me?
Every time I’m not actively thinking of something else, I see her red lips parted, her eyes half-mast as she orgasms around her finger. My body vibrates with the desire to pull my dick out and get to work. I’d probably come so hard, I’d feel it in my toes.
But I’ll wait. I’m not orgasming until she makes me. And she’ll make me.
For someone with such a smart-ass mouth, she takes direction well. It makes me want to kneel at her altar, pay a tithe, write sonnets.
The fuck is wrong with me?
With a smile on my face, I grab a plate from my cabinet and a fork from my drawer.
I’m at my penthouse apartment in the city, getting ready to eat the Chinese food I ordered, when my phone vibrates.
Please don’t let it be Ignacio .
I don’t even entertain the idea that it’s Taina.
I haven’t heard from her in three days. I take her silence as her needing space after doing something so intimate with me.
While I don’t have a ton of experience with women as of late, I know that it can be scary to be vulnerable with a man after being hurt.
I don’t know how she was hurt, but I recognize the sadness in her eyes that she tries to hide behind wit and attitude. She doesn’t know me. I haven’t earned the right to know her pain yet.
I pick up my phone and groan when I read the message, my fork in hand.
Dead soldado behind the dumpster. Time to pay the Russians a visit.
Sucking my teeth, I snatch the carton of pork fried rice off the counter and grab my jacket, wallet, gun, and keys and head to the elevator. I make sure the safety is on before I tuck my gun into the back of my waistband.
Looks like Ignacio is out for blood, and this time, I doubt there’ll be survivors. I’ve shoveled half the carton of rice in my mouth by the time I make it down to my car. I unlock it, and my phone buzzes with an incoming call.
“I’m on my way.”
“You stay your ass right there. Keep your nose clean because we may need you,” he tells me, rustling sounding on the other end of the phone.
“…why, Nas?”
Concern is inevitable, but I haven’t heard him speak like this in a long time. Ignacio is the type of person who thinks before he moves. It’s clear he watched our father closely; he makes the same decisions I think Papi would, asks the same questions I’ve heard answered a million times.
But once he’s been crossed? He’ll burn the entire city of Austin down, if need be.
“Because the message is going to be loud and clear.”
Which is what I feared .
“Okay, who’s going with you?” I ask, trying to gauge the situation so I know just how much finagling I’ll have to do, should this blow up in our faces.
Mierda.
“Carlos. I figure he can put his rage to use.”
Of course. Tag in the hothead who doesn’t think at all.
“What rage?” I ask the question under my breath, but Nas still answers.
“He never had a destiny, like we did. And because of that, he had less time with Papi . Less of his attention,” he reminds me.
And with that in mind, my mental rolodex confirms every word Nas said.
“Instead, he focused on learning how to be the best jefe de sacarios that he could until that was taken away.”
Except it wasn’t just taken away . But there’s no use in rehashing it with Ignacio, who wants so badly for Carlos to be involved.
But you can’t force someone to be who they need to be.
“All right, I’m gonna head back in. Call me when it’s said and done.”
The line beeps as the call ends, and I exit my car, sure to lock it before I walk inside the elevator.
To security likely watching, I’m just some guy eating Chinese food on the way to my apartment.
They have no idea what’s about to happen tonight, and to be fair, I don’t either.
But I can guarantee whatever it is, all of us will be hearing about it on the news tomorrow.
I take one more bite of rice just as I reach my floor.
Before I can think better of it, I type out a quick text to Carlos as I step out of the elevator. I should cut him some slack and let him know I care about his safety.
Cuídate, hermano.
Once I’m back inside, my container of pork fried rice nearly empty, I toss my fork in the sink with a clatter and set my things down.
Just as I plop down on the couch, something causes the building to shake, and I wonder if we’re experiencing an earthquake.
I snatch my phone back up from the counter and scroll through my contacts, tapping until it rings.
“ Hola, mijo ,” Mami answers after one ring. “Are you leaving with Ignacio?”
She knows I can’t talk to her about what he does. He’d beat my ass, and likely could even though he’s smaller than I am.
“Are you okay?” I rush the question out. “Was the earthquake bad where you were?”
“ ?Qué? ” she asks in that way that only Latinas can. “Earthquake? There was no—Fernando!” She yells out for her security guard and just as she speaks again, the building’s fire alarm shrills out, making me press my palm to my ear.
“I’ll call you back!”
Without hesitation, I grab the bag I keep in the closet by my front door. It’s got cash, identification, a change of clothes, and a handgun in it; everything I could need, should I have to run.
I open my apartment door, and I’m about to press the elevator button when someone bursts through the stairwell. I drop my bag, snatch up my gun from my waistband, and flick the safety all before the person in front of me can catch their breath.
Living on the twentieth floor has its perks.
But when I notice it’s the doorman, I switch the safety back on and shove the gun back in my waistband.
“Mr. Pineros,” he starts, his hand over his chest as he tries to catch his breath. “Your car, sir.”
My phone vibrates in my hand, the fire alarm continues to shriek, and all I can think about is how I likely fucked up Taina’s life, dragging her into my bullshit.
And now that they’ve got their eyes on all of us, she’s going to need protection.
I reject my mother’s call, and as the doorman and I rush back down the steps, the elevator now out of order, I try to call Taina. She doesn’t answer, so I send a text.
I need to see you. Call me back.
The closer we get to the main floor, the more people we run into who are also exiting the building, most with items, some with pets and children. As we reach the lobby, I tuck my phone into my pocket and hoist my go bag onto my shoulder.
Security, police officers, and firefighters all mill about, and once an officer I’m familiar with recognizes me, he heads over.
“Who did you piss off?” He mutters his question as he looks around the room, watching firefighters direct everyone out onto the street. By the looks of it, they’re evacuating more than just our building, with people lining the opposite street.
“I don’t even know what’s going on,” I tell him. “Something about my car?”
“Someone blew up your car,” he says as he catches the eye of another cop, waving him over. “Listen, I know this is about to create a bloodbath, okay? I know your brother. But please…try to keep it as clean as you can.”
It’s a big ask, one that I can’t promise.
“I’ll pass the message along,” is all I can offer. My phone buzzes again, and it’s Mami calling again. “What’s the protocol now?”
The second officer approaches, and I know this guy has done Nas plenty of favors. It’s good to have friends on the force. Even if you pay them for their troubles.
“They’re sweeping the rest of the garage, but you and I both know they won’t find another. They’ll go through security footage, try to catch who did it that way.”
But if this were done by my kind of people, they’d know how to circumvent. There are ways to go unseen, and we’ve mastered them.
There’s no point in telling Ignacio right now. He’s already on his way to do something that’s likely going to shake the entire city.