Tony felt a chill in the air that had nothing to do with the weather. No, the reason for the subtle shift had everything to do with the man standing next to him: his older brother, Victor. Older by only a matter of minutes, nonetheless Victor took his role as older brother seriously. Even now in the dim streetlight, Tony could see Victor’s jaw tick as he clenched his teeth. Nobody hated waiting more than Victor, and Tony silently shook his head at the barely restrained emotion he saw there.
Less than a year out from his second and final tour of duty in the Middle East, Tony was still adjusting to being back in the bosom of his family where passions and tempers were often allowed free rein. Tony’s whole life, he had done everything he could to avoid joining the cartel – the family business. So, he enlisted instead. As a sniper, he had seen things and done things that had fucked with his head. He had come home a changed man and told his father he was ready. He wanted in.
In the months since he’d returned, he had noticed a few odd things, such as how it came naturally to him now to keep a lid on his own emotions to get a job done. Victor, on the other hand, tended to be headstrong and often seemed to struggle to not give in to the urge to rip an enemy’s head off. It hadn’t taken Tony long after his boots hit the ground in the desert to learn that undisciplined shit like that could get a man killed or, even worse, send another soldier home in a flag-draped coffin.
“Lock that shit down and get ready, bro,” he muttered as he caught Victor’s eye. A silent look passed between the brothers before Victor looked away and released a long, steadying breath.
As Antonio Wayne slid into the backseat, Tony turned around to look at King, who acknowledged him with a brief nod. King got it; he understood the importance of restraint and discipline in dealing with the enemy. Of course, King’s adversaries often had talons or fangs. But, nonetheless, King knew that Tony’s military training ensured his life was in safe hands.
Tonight, King was letting the brothers use his newest toy -- a customized Dodge Ram cargo van. The side door opened so quietly that the gangbangers would never hear it if Tony kept them distracted enough.
Tony grabbed a pair of black-rimmed glasses and a baseball cap from the console between the front seats, instantly transforming into a ‘nerd boy’. “Showtime…” He slipped out of the van and adopted a goofy, affable grin as he spoke in a nasal voice.
“Hello, excuse me. Could you help me? It seems I’m a tad bit lost,” he said, laughing nervously.
Hugo and Franco forgot all about the stuck-up women still shaking their asses as they strutted away. They knew they weren’t going to get any pussy now anyway, but it seemed that a new mark had dropped right into their laps. Robbing this dumbass white boy would be just about as much fun as getting laid, anyway.
Hugo and Franco strolled around the tricked-out, custom cargo van, exchanging smug grins as they envisioned the bankroll the guy was probably carrying. Hell, even if the dumbass was lost on the wrong side of town without a wallet full of money, they’d just take the van to a Sinaloa brother who had a chop shop and still make out like fat cats.
Neither man heard the electronic door on the opposite side of the van when it quietly slid open.
“Ese…you should let us take you back to the highway. This neighborhood, it ain’t so safe, man.”
Hugo looked over, momentarily confused as Franco crumpled onto the pavement. The bottle of beer shattered when it hit the ground, leaving shards of glass in its wake.
“What the fuck, ese? How much did you drink?”
Hugo never saw or felt the small animal tranquilizer dart when it struck his neck sent him crumpling to the ground beside his incapacitated friend.
“I fucking love this van, King,” Victor commented as they prepared to heave the two men into the back of the vehicle.
“Make sure the liner is secure. I don’t need broken glass in there, and this guy landed right in the middle of it. He’s a fucking mess. I guess ought to pull some of the pieces out.”
“Tony, a few pieces of glass in his ass would be the least of his worries right now,” Victor said. “Seems like a waste of effort to me. Why the hell would we do that?”
“True.”
Moments later, with their cargo securely restrained in the back of the van, they pulled up beside the women, who had stopped to watch. “C’mon, let’s get out of here. Get back to your vehicle, we’ll sit tight until you’re inside. Meet us at King’s place,” Victor said grimly. “And Valentina, put on a dry shirt.”
Valentina looked over at her companions and rolled her eyes. As the girls trotted back to their SUV, King watched them go. “You know what I love?”
“Watching women try to run in high heels?” Victor drawled as he waited to make sure the women got in the SUV without any interference.
“You got it, my man,” Tony laughed before abruptly turning wide eyes on Victor, who was glaring at him from the passenger seat. “Oh, hell, no offense, Vic. I didn’t mean to disrespect your woman.” He grimaced like he smelled something particularly rotten. “Or, you know, Mom. Or—aw, shit. I did not mean that the way it came out.”
“Hmmph,” Victor grunted and shook his head as the van pulled out into traffic. “Just drive the fucking car.”
“Who’s King?” Valentina asked as she struggled with the seatbelt while Juanita took off like a bat out of hell.
“Oh, you’ll see. Believe me, it’ll be easier to understand if you just see for yourself.”
“What does that mean?”
“I mean you can’t really describe King without a visual.”
Valentina shook her head and looked out the window, resigned to the fact that the women weren’t going to explain or describe who this stranger named King was.
She was kind of in her own world lately anyway because, although she hadn’t told anyone, she had begun to second guess herself about whether or not it had been Luis she saw that night in that black SUV. But what else explained there being so many black SUVs on the highway that night? They were popular vehicles; hell, even the soccer moms drove them. Anytime you pulled up to a school, half the vehicles were SUVs or soccer mom mini-vans. Black was a popular color.
It had to have been him. She knew it like she knew her own name. She gritted her teeth and stiffened her spine. She might be the queen of the telenovela world, but she had no intention of being the queen of denial.