Chapter 19
MARTINA
The adrenaline rush I experience after I storm out of Smoke’s office wanes by the time I hit Calle Coahuila in the Zona Norte.
I’d only heard the stories about the famous redlight district of Tijuana, but I can see they weren’t exaggerated.
At late afternoon, the streets were already crowded with prostitutes, people hawking sex shows, and some openly selling drugs on the street.
Leave it to my brother to live in one of the worst areas in the city with a prostitute. Typical, but I wasn’t going to let that dissuade me from seeing Eduardo and demanding he give me my passport. I’d even lie and threaten the Bastards’ wrath if I had to, but I’m not leaving without it.
Using the Bastards would be an idle threat, but Eduardo wouldn’t know it or how Diesel dismissed me as just another piece of ass. Or how Smoke warned me off Diesel and basically called me the same thing. From now on, I was depending on one person only—me.
I discreetly search for Eduardo’s building, making sure I don’t make eye contact with anyone for fear they’ll think I’m one of the working girls who lines the street.
Thankfully, on the next block I spy a pink building numbered 200.
Now, I have to get past the assortment of men and women grouped around the door.
My limited Spanish tells me the women, as well as the men, are trying to get the best deal for services rendered.
If I ever get out of this country alive, I will sit down and put all this in writing because no one would believe it.
“Hey, sweet thing,” a clearly American voice rings out in the crowd. “How much are you charging?”
I keep walking, my eyes on the door in front of me, until I feel a sweaty palm on my arm. “What’s the matter? Don’t you speak English?”
“I speak perfect English.” I glare at his hand, then up at him. “Let me go.”
“You’re not gonna make any money that way, sweetheart.” He flashes a smile that says he’s had way too much tequila.
“Just remove your hand and let me pass.”
He tightens his grip, yanks me against his beer belly, and I heave out a heavy sigh. “C’mon, baby, I just wanna have a little fun.”
His other hand grabs my ass, so I angle my arm down and then straight up into his nose. His hand flies to his face as blood shoots out in all directions. Maxie would be so proud of my moves.
“Fuckin’ whore!” the jerk yells. “I should have you arrested.”
A crowd forms around the man, and I take the opportunity to move past them and into the building, then to the apartment Eduardo indicated on the first floor in the back.
I knock on the door and pray he answers. I knock three more times before I hear the shuffling of feet and then numerous locks unlatching. Not a surprise in this neighborhood.
The door swings open, and my eyes widen. Of all the things I expected, a naked woman standing on the other side of the door wasn’t one of them.
DIESEL
I drop my kickstand and storm through the back door of The Tropics, then down the hall and straight into Smoke’s office. I barge through the door without knocking and look around the empty room.
Shit!
I stomp down the hallway and into the main room of the club. The afternoon crowd is gone, and I easily pick out Smoke sitting at his usual table in the back with Bolt.
I close the distance between us and demand, “You had no right to talk to her without telling me.”
Smoke stares up at me. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
Bolt’s spine stiffens, sensing trouble.
“Did you talk to Martina after you left my apartment this morning?”
“What of it?”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Smoke narrows his eyes. “‘Cause I’m the president of this club, and I don’t have to tell you shit if I don’t want to.”
“What did you say to her?”
“Why do you care?”
“‘Cause I do.”
“You told me this morning she is nothing more than hot pussy. I believe you said ‘a great way to get your dick wet.’”
“That’s all changed.”
“What better change is this fuckin’ attitude of yours.”
Bolt rises and puts his hand on my shoulder. I shrug him off, and we exchange a knowing look.
We were built almost the same—bulky muscle with a big dose of don’t fuck with me.
We met when the cartel was still running the fights.
Punching it out in the fuckin’ dirt and living in barracks where the AC hardly worked and the shitter was always broken.
We knew each other’s strengths and weaknesses, and how to survive.
I round on Smoke. “Just tell me what you said to her.”
“I told her about your track record with women and how you have a tendency to pick up strays and losers. I also told her that no amount of her fucking you would change your loyalty to the Bastards.”
I bite my lower lip. “Nice, real nice.”
“Don’t go giving me shit.” Smoke pushes away from the table, sending the chair backwards. “You said the same thing in your apartment.”
“I didn’t mean it,” I yell.
Smoke grabs me and pins me up against the wall, his forearm across my chest.
“Hey, c’mon,” Bolt says behind us. “Cool out.”
“I could easily raise my arm five inches, and you’d have trouble breathing.” Smoke sneers.
“And I could easily push you off, or did you forget what I do for this club?”
“Knock it off, both of you.” Blood storms over to us, slamming his hand on our shoulders, pushing us apart.
“Tell him that.” Smoke jabs a finger into my chest. “Fuckin’ guy comes in here spitting shit and disrespect.”
“‘Cause you went behind my back, and now she’s gone.”
“Who’s gone?” Bolt asks.
“Martina.” Saying her name drains all the fight out of me. I sink into one of the chairs and pull out my smokes.
“What’s he talking about?” Smoke asks Blood.
“Martina took off this morning.”
“Martina’s gone?” Marisol comes around the bar and turns to me. “What did you do?”
“Why the fuck does everyone think I did something?”
Marisol rolls her eyes, and Bolt shrugs. “Admit it, you got a shit record when it comes to women, brother.”
“I didn’t scare her, or do anything to her.” I point to Smoke. “He’s the one you should be asking.”
Marisol glares at Smoke. “What do you have to do with this?”
“Nothing.”
Marisol continues to glare, and Smoke lights up a cigarette—definitely stalling—and I’m enjoying the shit out of his old lady calling him out.
“Well?”
“I had a little talk with her this morning.” Smoke points at me. “After he told me she didn’t mean shit to him. Now, he’s in here disrespecting his prez and telling me different.”
“And I’m assuming this little talk included you being your normal scary self,” Marisol accuses.
“C’mon, babe.” Smoke reaches for her hand, but she bats him away. “Don’t be like that.”
“What did you say?”
“I just told her not to interfere with club business and that the club would always come first.”
“Probably scared the poor girl.” The front door slams, and Maxie joins them. “If you wanted to explain something to her, you should’ve gone through Marisol or me. We told you the other night she was part of the Harlots now.”
Smoke blows out a breath, and for half a second, I feel sorry for him. Now he’s got Marisol and Maxie on his ass.
“So, what are we gonna do?” Maxie asks. “Instead of standing around flexing and blaming each other.”
“You sure she didn’t talk to anyone at the gym?” I ask Maxie.
“I asked the other girls—and nothing. It’s like she disappeared into thin air.”
“The only other people she knows in Tijuana are Benito and her brother. I highly doubt she’d go to Benito, so maybe she went to see Eduardo.”
I look at Smoke. “You have any contact info on him?”
“Last time he was here, he was bragging about some bitch he was shacking up with in the Zona Norte.”
“It’s a start.”
Maxie and I will ask some of the girls Eduardo was talking to the other night. Maybe something useful will pop up.
Smoke nods at me, Bolt, and Blood, and we form a tight circle around him. He zeroes in on me. “What happened before will never happen again. You get me?”
I nod. “I was just—”
“I don’t give a shit what you were. I’m the president, and I don’t do anything that will harm this club or its members. You got something goin’ on with her, you should’ve said. Instead, you threw up bullshit. Then you come in here getting up my ass for some fuckin’ problem you caused.”
I had the good sense to lower my eyes—one, ‘cause I respect Smoke. If he hadn’t found me that day fighting in the fuckin’ dirt, I don’t know where I’d be. And second, ‘cause he was right.
“The only reason I didn’t lay you out was ‘cause I could see you were hurting.”
“Appreciate it.”
“You care about this girl?” Smoke asks.
“Yeah.”
“All right, then we get her back.”
Leave it to Smoke to make the impossible sound possible.