comes to mind. “I don’t believe so.”
“No, he was. He just started seeing that one guy. Fuck. What’s his name? Shit. T . . . Ta . . . ah, Tadeo! Yes, Tadeo Hernandez.”
“Was this new?” My mind is already going to a more likely option.
“Yes, maybe the last month or so.”
“Hernandez . . . did you just say Tadeo?” I know of a Hernandez family who is also involved in the Latin Cartels, but his name isn’t Tadeo. I know an Elías Hernandez, but he is Bolivian. He’s the youngest son of Arsenio Hernandez. “Is this man actually Elías Hernandez? Do you have a photograph?”
“Mm, maybe.” Javier unlocks his phone and scrolls through the photos. “Ah, yes. We went out for a drink one night together.” My brother turns the camera to me and I’m instantly proven right. This man isn’t Tadeo.
“We need to get in contact with Angel. Call him.” I order.
“What the fuck? You call him.”
Javier doesn’t know Angel and I had a big blow up. “I can’t. He won’t answer. I wasn’t able to keep my promise, Javi. Angel will be marrying Fatima Alonzo in four years.”
“You’ve got to be shitting me right now.”
“Am I a man who jokes about things such as this? Call our brother.” I head for the door to Javi’s bedroom.
“Where the hell are you going?” Javi asks.
“To see if this coward will show his fucking face, or if he’ll make one of his goons do it. Regardless, someone is dying today.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
“Hearts are wild creatures, that’s why our ribs are cages.”
~ Morticia Addams
Dante
There are very few things I’ll lose my head over, but the biggest one is my familia. If you fuck with them, you fuck with me. Angel is known as the violent, erratic one . . . though I can match him depending on the circumstances.
I’ve been standing in an alleyway across the street from Zócalo for about ten minutes. I have a duffle bag and I’ve filled it with cut bricks of copy paper to make it appear like there’s some weight to it. I’ve almost hit the hour mark, so I walk forward, across the street to the median were the bench is and dig my hands into the planter beside it. I have to do a good bit of work before my bag can fit under it, though once I’m done I scoop the dirt back over and flatten it.
I did come alone and followed almost every other order that was given to me by this ballsy motherfucker, but I won’t be leaving. I’m going back to the alley from where I came and I’ll stand in the shadows, waiting for this idiot to show his or her face. When they do, I’ll make sure they understand just why no one should fuck with the Lopez Cartel.
I stand with my back against the stone of the neighboring building and wait. There’s just enough illumination from the streetlights that I can see the median area. There are only a couple benches there, with one of them being a turquoise color.
A few more minutes pass by before I see anyone approach the area. It appears to be a man from this far off. He takes a seat on the red bench across from the turquoise one and waits a couple minutes. Though, he nervously checks to the left and the right. Mmm. I wonder if this is a pawn of my enemy, or if my enemy is simply a nervous one.
The man stands abruptly and goes for the planter, digging ferociously and now I make my move. Stalking my prey, I ensure to stick to the shadows so I can’t be seen until the very last moment. I walk with haste, yet not too much as I don’t want to be heard. This fucker will only know I’m here when he feels the chill of my gun pressed against the back of his skull.
I hear a sigh of relief coming from this man just as he pulls the duffel free. Though, when he unzips it, the paper won’t be the only surprise he gets. I take my gun from the back of my pants and aim, patiently waiting.
“Fuck!” He sneers while I smile.
“Guess you thought your terms would be met, hmm?” I say, clear as day. The man jumps from his shock and slowly turns toward me.
“Mmm, Dante Lopez. I should’ve known you’d come here personally and not send one of your men.” I take a good hard