I rub the poof over Maddy’s arms, back, and chest before she takes it and does the same to me. I pour shampoo onto my hand and rub it through her hair. She moans with satisfaction as I massage her scalp. After a few minutes, she returns the favor, her magical fingers massaging my scalp.
Fucking bliss.
All of this. Making love to her—there’s no way in hell that was just fucking. Feeling her hands all over me. Talking to her. Spending time with her. This is far more than I deserve, considering the fucked-up things I do every day. I’m going to appreciate every second of it, since I fully expect fate to rip it away from me.
First it took myabuelito—grandpa—from me. I was super close to my dad’s dad. My mom’s father was murdered before I was born, but I remember my paternal grandfather. I was six when he died. He used to take me fishing and play card games with me.
Then it took my dad. He was murdered for marrying my mother and joining the Diaz Cartel. Myabuelitonever had a problem withPapáworking forTíoEnrique even though he had to spend time working for my great-uncle—the one who killed his own brother—my grandfather.
“Javi?”
“Hmmm?”
“You suddenly seem a million miles away. Was it the text?”
“No. I was just thinking.”
“Did something happen? Are you in trouble for bringing me out here?”
“No, but it wasTíoEnrique. I have to check in with him. He knows we’re out here. He wants us to come back to the city, but I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“Will it piss him off if you refuse?”
“Possibly. Probably. But I’m not taking you anywhere until I’m certain it’s safe. He knows how I feel about this place.”
She’s sitting back and watching me now. I know she won’t ask what I mean, but she wants to know.
“Tíoknows I feel safest here. It’s where my mom, brothers, and I fled to when we couldn’t stay in Bogotá any longer. Men were pressuring my mom, trying to trap her into marriage to get to my uncle. They either wanted to kill him or make friends. Either way, it was dangerous forMamá, and my brothers and I were leverage. When we came to America, we came straight here.Papábought this place as a wedding gift forMamá. It was a getaway for them that allowed them to enjoy everything New York offered without being in the city. They could just enjoy each other’s company when they wanted solitude and take advantage of everything else when they wanted to go out. When it was no longer safe to stay in Colombia,Mamábrought us here. I come out here when I need time away from everything else.”
Maddy listens, and I think she appreciates me opening up about my family. I’m certain she knew why we came to America, but there was no way she could know about this home. I observe her as I speak. I’m ready to share things with her I’ve shared with no one else. Things about my family’s past that’ve always been top secret.
“Do you know much about my family and how we came to be who we are?”
“A bit. Only things Pablo and Juan said when we were really young. Stuff they didn’t know not to tell girls they thought of as little sisters.”
“My dad’s side of the family wasn’t Cartel until my dad met myTíoEnrique in college. Myabuelitodid some business with mytíos’ family, but they weren’t Cartel. BesideTíoLuis,PapáwasTíoEnrique’s best friend. WhenTíoHumberto—my mom’s uncle, so my great-uncle—started trouble, myabuelitocouldn’t ignore it. He recruited my dad when he was in his twenties. Back then,TíoHumberto lived in NYC, and he headed up the Colombians here.TíoHumberto believedPapáworked for him. My dad rose up the ranks fast becauseTíoHumberto favored him.TíoEnrique andTíoLuis had been out of college for a few years, and my mom andTíaCatalina were back in Bogotá after college. It didn’t take long for everyoneto realize the shitTíoHumberto wanted him to do was meant to screw myabuelitoand to keepTíoEnrique from inheriting anything. Not here in New York or back home in Bogotá.Papácouldn’t just walk away because he knew the shady shitTíoHumberto was doing endangered my mom’s entire family. He metMamáwhen he was gathering information to give toTíoEnrique. He couldn’t tellMamáthat, so she thought he was a completecabrón. Arrogant, apparently. I wonder where I got that from.”
I try for some self-deprecating humor, and it works because Maddy flashes me a smile. I don’t think I’m freaking her out too much, so I keep going.
“Papánever got over being unable to warnabuelitoin time to save him. He toldTíoEnrique about the first plot, andTíothwarted it. But he didn’t learn whatTíoHumberto planned the second time until it was too late.Papá’sthe one who had to tellTíoEnrique, who had to tellTíoLuis. Together, they calledMamá,TíaCatalina, andAbuelita. I can’t imagine how that must have felt for any of them. It wasn’tPapá’splace totellMamá, but he was with her just after her brothers called. He made sure the three women were together.TíaCatalina was engaged toTíoMatáis at the time, so he was there too.
“No one ever doubtedPapá’sorTíoMatáis’s loyalty because they were the first to getTíoEnrique’s orders to strike back. They did what needed doing until mytíoscould get to Bogotá. I’d like to say the stories I’ve heard are just urban legend, but I’m certain they only scratch the surface of what happened whenTíoEnrique took over. He went from being a pretty recent college graduate to running New York City to running all of Latin America in the space of a couple phone calls and one gunshot.”
That’s an abridged version of history. From what I know,TíoEnrique andTíoLuis went full vigilante when they returned to Colombia for myabuelito’sfuneral. They sentMamá,TíaCatalina, andAbuelitato the family’s compound on the coast near Venezuela. It’s where our ancestors’ lived before migrating to Bogotá. We still speak the indigenous language when we don’t want anyone around us to understand.
While the women were gone,TíoEnrique led five missions that practically decimated every rival they had in the country. He’s only helped law enforcement once; he ensuredTíoHumberto’s extradition from the U.S. to Colombia. Once he had his uncle back in Bogotá, he made sure it benefited the government to hand thehijo de puta—son of a bitch—over to my uncle.
TíoLuis started infiltrating prisons to ensure we had men on the inside who’d keep the incarcerated men fromallthe cartels on our side. Whenever the government released any of them, they were ready to work for my uncles, notTíoHumberto.TíoEnrique personally captured his uncle and imprisoned him in a lavish estate that makes Pablo Escobar’s look like a cabin in the woods in comparison. He gaveTíoHumberto the luxuries totaunt him becauseTíoEnrique hasn’t allowed him to leave the place in over thirty years.
He oversees things whenTíoLuis or Alejandro aren’t there.TíoEnrique goes down to visit every few months to beat the shit out of him—to remind him he lives because my uncle lets him. He started doing that afterTíoHumberto failed to look out forMamá, my brothers, and me. He had the power to keep men from pursuingMamáfor her money and connections. He could’ve kept men from approaching my brothers and me to recruit us into rival cartels. He could’ve kept the street gangs from attacking my brothers and me. But he didn’t.
Mamádid an excellent job protecting Jorge, Joaquin, and me until we became tweens. The street gangs got more aggressive, and my brothers and I were getting in fights regularly. By the time Joaquin was fourteen, I’d just turned thirteen, and Jorge was nearly twelve, I’d already killed three men. Joaquin had also killed, and Jorge had already stabbed guys. It was imperative we get out, so we fled to this house.
Everyone believes the Kutsenko brothers had it the hardest because their old leader was a fucking psychopath. Bogdan was eleven when they immigrated to the U.S., just like Jorge. I know they tortured Bogdan during their training, and I can say none of my brothers or I experienced that. But we saw and did shit that rivaled what the Kutsenkos experienced, yet they only call us the fucked-up ones. They should look at their pretty little faces in the mirror and stop being such hypocrites. We’re no more psychopathic than they are. We do nothing worse than what they do to protect our respective families.
As I watch Maddy, I know that’s shit I can’t share with her. She can never know I killed for the first time when I was ten. The guy tried to kidnap me and held Jorge at knifepoint. The man assumed because I was so small compared to him, my rage wouldn’t be as strong as any man’s. No one touches my brothers.
“Javi?”
