Page 12 of Extraction
“No.” Armondo made an unhappy sound as he cleared his throat. “I’m sure something will show itself soon.”
“Try to reboot it if nothing pops up in the morning.”
“Sí.”
I pushed the mouth of the bottle between my lips and downed a few shots of the amber liquid. My eyes watered at the taste, but I was rewarded with a warm stomach and a lighter head space.
I spun the cap back on, tossed it aside, and hopped out. I was met with a wave of stifling hot air. September was brutal, but I’d grown up here and was used to the heat. I’d take it any day over the cold. I hated the cold.
“Perez.” Armando, who was right behind me, handed me a cold beer. I didn’t break stride as I wove through the trashy girls and horny guys.
A woman blocked my path. “Hola, Bruno. Want to have a little fun?” She held up a baggie of Ecstasy. “My mouth has a reputation, you know?” I remained unamused when she ran a hand down my chest to my belt. I grabbed her wrist and squeezed as a warning to back off.
“I find that hard to believe, Concha. You have that large nose to deal with.” Her face fell. “Don’t get me started with your teeth. Go find someone who can look past your face.”
“Chota,” she spat, and I kept moving.
I walked around the side of the house where a table and a few chairs were in a horseshoe.
“You’re late,” Mama barked in English as her security parted for me to move through. “I told Armando to get you here twenty minutes ago.”
“Well, I’m here now, Mama.” I snagged a chip out of the bowl and squeezed some lime juice over it. “What can I do for you?”
Esmeralda Perez was a force to be reckoned with. One bad look from her, and you were as good as marked for death. She ran a hand down her long brown hair, and her rings glittered in the evening sun. Many underestimated my mama and her ability to get a job done. They were fooled by her rather pretty face. Little did they know, she was more ruthless than her beloved brother, Martin Castillo. “Did you do what I asked?”
“Sí.”
“En inglés, cariño,” she reminded me. Mama insisted that we all learn English since it was the language of our enemy. But I also knew she thought it was safer to speak English rather than Spanish with the kind of people who often surrounded us. A bunch of idiots who weren’t to be trusted.
“English,” I repeated with a nod. “Everything went as planned.”
“And the photographer?”
“Same.” I reached for another chip but instead decided on the salsa.
“And?”
I shrugged and pushed back how much I hated when she questioned me. “And I’m waiting to hear back.”
“Look at how tiny they are!” One of my cousin’s friends had ripped off a girl’s shirt and laughed at her small tits. He tried to stand, but he was so drunk he toppled forward, hit the table, and sent drinks flying. Everyone nearby shouted obscenities and jumped to their feet.
“He’s out or he’s dead,” Mama snapped, and everyone went quiet. I filled my bottom lip with chew. No one fucked with my mother.
Our family was powerful, and we controlled most of Mexico City. When my Uncle Martin was killed by those American fuckers, his empire in Rosarito was flattened, and we knew we could be in for a hell of a war. Mama was smart and had us lay low after the attack on Armondo and me. We let the people think my uncle’s reign was over and that I was dead. We had waited long enough, and it was time to show the world we were back and to reclaim all that was ours.
“Where is Sully now? He needs to know…”
“Agáchate!” The man who had fallen and knocked over the drinks was on his feet again. He stood over the half-naked girl. I pulled out my gun and shot the fucker in the head. Mama merely took a sip of her drink and waved at my cousin to handle it. As the girl jumped up and raced away from the dead body, my cousin didn’t move, and I saw his drunken face. I yelled at him, but he just shrugged and went back to his booze.
“Idiot.” I signaled to Armondo to deal with the body.
“No problem.” He grabbed the guy by his shoulders and hauled him away. We had pre-dug holes around back for such situations.
I glanced at my older brother, who sat far back from us but watched intently. He had a chance to be a part of this, but he refused to give up his current girlfriend, and it infuriated Mama that he put her before family and now as an outcast he’s basically dead to us.
“Sully is doing what he needs to do. He’s fine,” I assured her.
“I don’t have to remind you about how serious this whole thing is.”
