Chapter 34
thirty-four
Natalia
Santos is in the kitchen when I walk inside, standing at the countertop and messing with the toaster.
“Need some help?” He jumps, his shoulders pinching together as he whirls to face me.
“Oh. You’re up. Didn’t even hear you.” I come to stand beside him, taking a squished slice of bread from his hand and popping it in the oven. I use the time to hop onto the counter, peering around the living room while we wait for his toast.
“I didn’t see Matias in his office. Do you know where he is?”
He shrugs, the loose t-shirt around his shoulders scrunching. “I don’t know. I think I heard him leave early, but I don’t know what time, ‘cause…y’know.” He says, motioning to his impaired eyes. “You know how he is.”
“Yeah, that sounds like him.” The toast pops up between us, golden and crispy. I fish a plate for Santos and slather peanut butter on the bread, watching him as he feels around the counter for his breakfast and takes a bite.
“Is your sight getting better?” He makes a noise and chews before nodding slowly.
“The shapes are getting clearer, but…” The young man sighs frustratedly, early morning light washing over high cheekbones. “It’s not getting better fast enough. I hate this.”
I pat his shoulder, my lips straightening into a grim line when I note he hasn’t made one of his usual cracks in days. “Santos, things will be back to normal in time. These things take time, hm?”
“I need to get better right now.” He insists, stuffing a piece of bread in his mouth and huffing. I look around. It’s a quiet Saturday morning, birds high in the sky, the kind of morning where the whole point of the day is to do nothing.
“What’s so special about today? It’s the weekend.”
Santos freezes. “Oh. Um…I just…it’s just…it’s been too long. I want to see. I want to see pretty faces. Cars. Um…the shape of the female body?” What the fuck? I frown, taking a step closer to Matias’ best friend, something nervous sliding in the pit of my stomach when he fidgets away from me.
“Santos…what’s going on?”
“Nothing.” He runs a hand over the curve of his buzzed head. “What are you talking about?”
I sigh. “Where is Matias?”
“I don’t know. He’s just working. Don’t stress it. It’ll all be over soon.”
I freeze, resisting the urge to grab him by the collar. “What did you just say?” His eyes widen, and I crowd him into the counter. “Matias said the same thing last night. Is he…is he doing that stupid sale we were warning him about?”
Santos opens his mouth, but it takes a minute for anything to come out. “Wow, you’re really sharp.”
“Santos!”
“What? He didn’t want you to worry.”
“He didn’t want me to worry? How can you just stand there eating toast?! You’re the one that told me he’s going to get himself killed!” I resist the urge to slap what’s left of his breakfast out of his hands.
He holds up a hand. “I may have been a little bit dramatic about that. Matias told me about the plan. It’s solid.”
“What the fuck does that even mean?” I growl, taking perverse pleasure when he jumps.
“He’s not really going to sell. It’s like…like a recon mission.”
I narrow my gaze. “That sounds even worse, you idiot. How could you let him walk out the door?”
“Toledo is with him, Natalia! He’ll be fine. Matias isn’t the damsel in distress you’re making him out to be, you know. He can take care of himself. Trust me. If you knew all the things he’s done, the way I do, you’d feel a little better right now.”
I expel a deep breath and lean on the counter beside him, crossing my arms. “It doesn’t make me feel better. Santos, we still don’t know which of his men are working against him.”
Santos holds up a finger. “Actually, we got the guy.”
“You…you did?”
“Yeah.” He nods enthusiastically, like that fact changes everything. “Didn’t Matias tell you last night?” Santos rubs the back of his neck. “Well, it sounded like you two were busy.” He says, smirking, and then cursing when I reach out and slap the back of his head.
“Don’t be a pervert. What was he going to tell me?”
“Well, before the whole thing with the pictures, Toledo stopped by. She said Paco caught a couple of the low-level guys selling information on one of the warehouses to a rival from Arizona. It was a whole thing. Paco confronted them and it turned into a shootout, Natalia. The dudes are dead.”
I soak in the words, chewing on my lip. No. No. This whole thing sounds too neat. For God’s sake, whoever did it tried killing Santos. Surely, a months-long scheme wouldn’t have been discovered overheard in a warehouse.
“Something’s not adding up, Santos.”
“You’re just being paranoid, Shorty. Trust. Paco took care of business.”
Paco…Paco…why does that ring a bell? Papa said something about him when I visited him in prison.
…Paco came later, from Ernesto’s side…
I freeze.
Santos senses the movement, turning to search for my face. “What’s wrong?”
“Santos, Paco didn’t work for my dad.” I run a hand through my hair, the cool stone tile in the kitchen chilling me to the bone.
“Of course he did. You were there.”
“I just saw Papa—he said Paco came from Ernesto’s side when they became partners. Ernesto, who we put in prison during the raid. Remember him?”
Santos wobbles on his feet. “Oh, shit.”
“Ernesto came from Arizona, Santos. It’s a trap.” I say, shifting my weight from one foot to another. “We have to warn him. Do you have your phone—can you call him?”
Santos’ mouth straightens into a thin line as he fumbles in his pockets and hands me his phone. I take the device from his hands, dialing Matias’ number with shaky hands and putting it on speaker phone.
It rings twice before going to voicemail.
I call three times before giving up with a curse.
“There’s no service out in the desert.” The man in front of me provides unhelpfully, cursing. “I’ll text him, but I don’t think it’ll reach him, Natalia. Fuck.” He grips his head. “Are you sure about this?”
Yes. Yes, with every beat of my heart. I’m certain something isn’t right. The last time I felt this type of uneasy restlessness, Papa was raided and I lost everything.
I can’t let that happen again. I’d rather die before letting that happen again. Which is why there isn’t a drop of hesitation when I open my mouth and say:
“Where are they? I’ll drive there. I’ll give him the message.”
Santos rears back. “Are you out of your fucking mind?”
“We don’t have a choice!” I shout, scrambling to put on the shoes I left by the door last night.
My clothes are laughable—wrinkled dress from the night before and messy hair, but I don’t care.
I skid to the basin of keys by the foyer, scrambling through the keys for something that looks fast enough to get there.
Santos hobbles over, hovering like an annoying bird.
“Get out of the way, Santos. Which of the cars should I take?”
“None, because you’re going on a suicide mission. Just stop, Natalia!”
I push Matias’ best friend out of the way, a twinge of guilt settling in my stomach when he stumbles blindly against the wall.
“Santos, I can’t let anything happen to him. I have to warn him. I have to. Please.”
He leans against the wall, scrubbing a hand across his face. “Fuck. Fine. Fine! There should be a keyring with a Tweety Bird on it, do you see it?”
I spot it immediately, fishing it from the bowl with shaky hands. “I have it.”
“Those are the keys to my race car. It’s in the motor bay downstairs. It’s full of gas, fast and nimble enough to handle the shitty roads. What time is it? You probably have about an hour to make it, if you hurry. I’ll send you the coordinates. Do not get yourself killed.”
I grip the keys hard enough to draw blood, teeth chattering so loud I almost can’t reply.
“I’ll be okay. I’ll get there in time, I promise.”
I dart to the big front door, pausing with my hand on the doorknob when Santos calls out my name one last time.
“Natalia.”
I gulp. “Yeah?”
“There’s a gun in the glove compartment. In case you need it.”
I barely hear my own reply over the beat of my heart, the slam of the door rattling in my bones.