Dirty Promises

  It was wrong of me to want to encourage that bloodlust but I couldn’t help it. They say a marriage only works if it’s an equal partnership and this would establish her as a real cartel queen. Not just having a say in the business and giving her opinions but actually getting her hands dirty. Bloody. That said narco royalty like nothing else did.

  “Remember we want him alive,” I said to Evaristo, raising my voice to be heard above the churning rotors.

  We were en route to Las Aguas, tiny village outside the town of Nueva Santa Rosa, the two of us in one chopper with some of the best backup men I had. There were another two choppers carrying in the derelicts of my new army, the ones who fought the hardest and craziest at the compound. Even I was a little afraid of them. Nothing was more dangerous than a meathead with a machete, but at least they got the job done.

  “No promises,” Evaristo said. “If it’s a choice of killing him or letting him get away, you can guess which one I’ll be taking.”

  We didn’t fly directly to the village. That would have been too risky. Instead the choppers landed in the next valley over and then we piled into SUV’s I had arranged earlier. They took us high into the mountains, climbing the steep road at night so we could remain unseen. The next morning, when the haze cleared, you could see we were settled on a ridge that looked down over the tiny village of stucco houses nestled along a narrow river.

  The village couldn’t have more than a hundred people in it, with Evaristo putting his estimate at fifty. The only reason we had an inkling that Este was here was because one of the Guatemalan ops had a visual ID on Este in Santa Rosa. Some digging around later not only confirmed that it was him, but that he was headed over the mountains. Using the federales fancy tracking system, they were able to intercept a phone call made from someone called “Fez” who was asking about my own whereabouts. Voice recognition placed the caller as Esteban and triangulated the signal to somewhere in this valley.

  Besides, I could feel him close by. I could barely sleep, not because I was on a sleeping bag on the cold ground, but because I could taste the blood already.

  “He’s there,” Evaristo said that morning, handing me a cup of instant coffee. It wasn’t much better than gas station runoff, but it would have to do. I never understood why roughing it had to be “rough.” Even a French press and some good local beans would go a long way out here.

  “You know for sure?”

  He nodded. “Just got off the phone with the agency. The satellite images are being printed on the computer right now but I already got a look at them. There’s only one structure down there big enough, nice enough, for Esteban and his men. A barn and neighboring house.”

  “Makes sense,” I said, my palms itching to go as I took another sip of the god awful brew. “They are animals after all.”

  “I’m not sure ours are much different,” he noted, nodding at one criminal who was busy taking a piss onto a sleeping man’s head.

  I rolled my eyes. When this was all said and done, I’d be a lot better off if I could just kill them all. They might have been good for getting this job done but they were far too stupid, not to mention uncouth, to be associated with the name Javier Bernal.

  I leaned in closer to Evaristo. In the harsh light of dawn I was aware of how young this kid really was. “Let me ask you, how long do you think you’ll play the loyal federale for?”

  He grinned at me sheepishly. “For as long as they think you’re still in prison. As good as those guards and the warden are, the cover-up only lasts for so long. Even with the prison director under your thumb, the truth will come out. And when it does, all fingers will point to me.”

  “You’ll be on the run then,” I told him. “You’ll have to change your name. Your appearance.”

  “That’s if I live that long, patron.” He shrugged. “I will use them while I can, while they have used me. And they have used me. You know, they prey on the weak, that’s the difference between you and them. You, Javier, you prey on the strong. The government preys on the weak, the ones without much choice. The ones like me. Then they mold you to be their little toy soldier. You live your short life fighting their battles without really knowing what you’re fighting for.” His eyes scanned the distant peaks as the mist lifted off. “The cartels have caused so much violence in this country but that’s nothing new. Mexico is a country built on violence and corruption. You know how Cortes founded the country?”

  I nodded. I didn’t remember much from school. I dropped out when I was young, after my father died, having to work in his business and take care of my mother and sisters. But that didn’t stop me from seeking knowledge on my own and the inception of Mexico was something larger than life.

  “Well,” Evaristo went on, “then you know that barbaric violence and a shitty class system has been our way from the very start. Those at the top feed off of each other. Those at the bottom suffer endlessly. The cartels rule because the government allows them to. Because it benefits them both.”

  “And thank god for that,” I added.

  “Yes, thank god. Or the devil. Whichever one you choose.”

  Paolo came over to Evaristo. “Sir, we have confirmation that Esteban Mendoza is there right now.”

  I knew one hell of a wicked grin was spreading across my face. I’m pretty sure it stayed on the whole time as we quickly loaded into the SUVs and were taken down the rocky, steep road that was nothing more than a deer trail all the way down into the valley. It was still so early that we hoped we wouldn’t be detected.

  We eventually reached the bottom in one piece and raced down the one dirt road through the middle of the village.

  The few villagers that were up saw us and started yelling but we zoomed past them, heading all the way to the house and the barn. We piled out, weapons in our hands as the dust rose above us. The bigger men went in through the front door, kicking it down with their heavy boots and breaking windows.

  Evaristo and I went around the back, .45 pistols drawn, ready to shoot. I had to remind myself over and over again that I wasn’t shooting to kill, just to maim. From the way I was gripping my gun, I was afraid that I might just kill him on the spot.

  Suddenly the promise I made to Luisa was gone and all I could think about was just putting the bullets through his head repeatedly. It would take away the fun but it would feel oh so fucking good. Just to see him caught. See the fear of death. I wanted to smell it off of him.

  At the last minute I shoved Evaristo out of the way and entered the back of the house first, not giving a damn if he was the one properly trained for this or not. I’d done okay so far.

  The house was empty though. There was no one there and not a single sign of them being there at all. Floorboards were ripped up, looking for tunnels that were never found, and the place was swept for leftover communication, anything to point to Esteban, but there was nothing.

  Nothing, but still, I knew he had been here. I knew we had been close.

  Too close.

  I turned to Evaristo. “Burn the place down,” I said.

  “The house?”

  “The village. They know he was here. They know he left. Interrogate them all. If they can’t give us answer, then we burn it.”

  Evaristo frowned, hesitating. The good and evil he was just discussing was now battling in his head. “This isn’t even Mexico, Javier.”

  “So,” I said simply. “Word will still get back to him. Burn it all.”

  He put his hand on my shoulder. “Listen, there is a fine line between revenge and lunacy. Concentrate on him, not on those he may or may not have involved.”

  “Burn it to the fucking ground!” I screamed in his face, my skin growing red hot, spittle flying out of my mouth and onto his cheek.

  He slowly wiped it away but nodded. “Yes, patron.”

  Evaristo still gave the frightened villagers a chance to live. They walked into the mountains, staring back at their homes as they burned and burned, the smoking rise high above the valley f
loor.

  I felt absolutely nothing as I watched it all disappear behind us, the SUV climbing into the hills. I thought the destruction, the flames, would at least burn off some of the debilitating frustration I felt at having lost him once again, but it didn’t.

  It just made things worse.

  And with the way things were, I wasn’t sure how much worse it would get before it finally got better.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Luisa

  It took five days for Javier to return back to San Salvador. Diego hadn’t had much contact with him and the last we had heard before it went to radio silence was that he was in the mountains without a signal except from the satellite phones. The two of us waited day in and out, anxiously trying to pass the time.

  Not that Diego would ever show any anxiety. The big beast of a man was as cool as a cucumber, reminiscent of how Javier could be on his good days. Or maybe those were his bad days. It was hard to tell when both fire and ice could burn you.

  By day four, I was doing a lot better. I was in a sling now and could walk around, though moving my shoulder hurt like hell, even with low doses of morphine. Sometimes it felt like there was a grinder inside me, working to the bone.

  The morphine was more for the burns anyway. Thankfully the one on my face was healing faster and didn’t need a bandage, even though I wanted it covered up more than anything. The one on my stomach was trickier and sometimes the pain got so bad I would break down and cry.

  Diego wanted the nurses to give me more drugs but I was adamant against it. I wanted to be as clear-headed as possible these days, even if it hurt me to do so. I played one-handed cards with him instead, determined to pull through and save face.

  When Javier walked into the room on the fifth day, I knew it was bad news. Not just because he didn’t have Esteban with him but because I was certain he would have notified us along the way if he had been successful. No one likes to broadcast their failures.

  Needless to say, I was glad to see him. Even though I felt like an absolute wreck with my beaten looks and pain that half-straddled the morphine cloud, the sight of him, defeated or not, warmed my bitter heart.

  “No good, huh?” Diego asked him while Javier strode across the room and collapsed into one of the stiff metal chairs by the wall.

  Javier leaned forward, pinching between his brows, but didn’t say a word.

  Diego looked at me. “Perhaps I should leave you too alone.” When Javier didn’t move nor utter his protest, Diego got up and left, closing the door behind him.

  I leaned back against the wall and started gathering up the cards, leftovers from our simple game of Burro Castigado. “Do you want to talk about it?”

  Javier shook his head, his eyes still closed.

  “That’s fine,” I said. “I’m doing better, by the way. I can leave here tomorrow they said.”

  Finally he looked at me. “Good.” He sighed heavily. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to … you look a lot better.”

  I smiled softly. “I thought you said I already looked better.” I gently touched the burn on my face for emphasis. It had stopped being numb, a good sign even though the outer damage wouldn’t go away.

  “I meant it,” he said. But he still didn’t get up. I was acutely aware that whatever exchanges we shared when he first saw me here wasn’t about to happen again, not now.

  “Do I dare ask what happened?” I said cautiously, worried that the question would press all the wrong buttons. He was tense, stressed, and if he hadn’t unleashed his fury on Esteban there was always the chance he would unleash it on me.

  But he didn’t. He sighed and leaned far back in his chair, legs stretched out in front of him. His dark jeans were coated with a layer of dust and it’s only then that I noted how uncharacteristically messy he was. Even his longish hair was out of place.

  It actually made him look a bit boyish. Not quite vulnerable because Javier was anything but, but still … younger. Perhaps more real.

  “He was there, Luisa.” He wiped his hand over his face and stared out the window. “He was there. We were so close. We missed him by a matter of ten minutes I’m guessing. If we had known that to begin with, we could have got him. We wasted too much time in his house … we’ve wasted too much time already.”

  “But,” I said, running my hand over the cards and flipping them up one by one, “there is no time limit on revenge. Don’t they say it’s a dish best served cold?”

  “The Americans say that,” Javier said, eyes hard. “The longer he’s out there, the longer that he’s allowed to think he’s won. He’s not won.”

  “No,” I said. “I’m still alive. And you’re here with me.” I swallowed hard, afraid to go on. But I had to. “Aren’t you?”

  He looked at me sharply. “Of course I am.”

  “And so he knows that. He knows we’re coming for him. That’s why it’s best to wait a while. Wait for him to relax. Let his guard down.”

  He got out of his chair and stormed over to me, eyes blazing. “You’re telling me,” he said, waving his hand over my body, “that you’re okay with just letting him getting away with this, with what he did to you? Can you honestly say that you can wait to catch one day when he’s not expecting it? Is that what you can do? Fuck.” He turned around, back to me and shook his head. “Well I can’t do that. I can’t live my life knowing he’s out there and that he’s ruined us.”

  My heart grew heavy. “Don’t forget I had my hand in that too.”

  He whirled around. “Oh, I haven’t forgotten,” he snapped. He closed his eyes and ran his hand through his hair, trying to compose himself. When he opened them again, his gaze was directed at the floor. “The sooner he’s dead, the better it is for us. The sooner we can move on and pick up the pieces.”

  And what makes you think we can do that anyway, I wanted to ask but I didn’t dare. I was too afraid of the truth. The truth that, despite everything, my forgiveness was the last thing on his mind.

  My body would heal before we ever did.

  I flipped over the last card. Queen of Spades.

  Unlucky.

  ***

  The next day I was able to leave the clinic as promised. I said goodbye to the nurses and doctors who took care of me but to them I was just another anonymous person coming in from the endless violence. Diego and I had theorized that they didn’t just work for the agencies in the area but for whatever cartels were willing to pay the highest price. With that in mind, I was glad that Diego was there to guard me. Any doctor would have sold me out to someone willing to pay for it.

  I went with Evaristo, his second-in-command Paolo, Diego, and Javier in a small convoy of cars out toward the western coast of El Salvador. There was one humble safe house on a golden beach, another a few yards away, nestled in the jungle.

  Javier and I commandeered the beach house with Diego, while Evaristo and Paolo watched over Javier’s army in the other.

  It was strange being in such a small space with just the three of us. Javier and I had one bedroom to ourselves overlooking the ocean, while Diego’s was stationed near the front. Though we couldn’t see them, there were other guards patrolling the grounds, making sure we were safe. It was hot here so close to the equator and there was never a moment where you weren’t coated in a thin sheen of sweat.

  The whole set-up reminded me of when I first married Salvador and in more ways than one. Our honeymoon had been at a similar place, with similar protection. And I had been similarly nervous.

  The thing was, despite everything that had changed between Javier and I, what had done the most damage had nothing to do with him or me.

  It was Esteban.

  Because of him and his men, I’d grown averse to Javier’s touch. Anyone’s touch, really, but especially his.

  That night when we arrived at the house, we settled into our new room. It was clean and comfortable. Nothing fancy. Teak frames on the mirrors and doors, a ceiling fan, terracotta-tiled floors. The kind of place vacationers wou
ld rent for a taste of Latin America.

  There was one queen-sized bed in the middle. The sight of it made my heart jump.

  I carefully got ready for bed, taking my time to change into my nightgown in the washroom. Everything took longer with my shoulder incapacitated. Javier had offered to help me a few times but there was no way now that I’d let him see me naked.

  I didn’t want him to be repulsed.

  And I feared what would happen if he were turned on.

  When I finally emerged, he was in bed, the sheet pulled up to his abdomen. I knew he was naked underneath.

  He wasn’t smiling though. He was reading me, almost desperately, as I stepped out of the bathroom. I was a bit unsteady on my feet, a side effect of the massive amounts of codeine I’d been prescribed for the pain, even though it hadn’t done much for it so far.

  Javier made a move to help me and I tried to shoo him away but he was adamant. And naked. And had a formidable erection as he led me over to my side of the bed.

  “You’re still in pain,” he noted, lowering me down.

  “I’m fine.”

  He gave me a half-smile. “You know my dear, we do own most of the drugs in the world. I’m sure I can give you something stronger than fucking codeine.”

  “It’s fine,” I said again. Javier didn’t get high on his own supply and neither did I.

  He came around to his side of the bed and turned on his side, facing me. I had no choice but to sleep on my back, my shoulder wouldn’t allow anything else.

  The tension between us was hard to ignore. It was physical, like you could see it hanging in the air. Even the creaking ceiling fan couldn’t blow it away. So many things left unsaid. So many things that begged to be said again.

  And I was caught been a rock and a hard place.

  The need to feel beautiful.

  The need to never feel beautiful.