Chapter Five
Javier
Three years later
“Who knew shit could be this good?” Maricio asked before snorting a line of cocaine up his fucking nose. The noise grated on my nerves every fucking time he did it. The way he wiped the white shit from under his nostrils, the way they flared, and the way his eyes would dilate, it all ate me up inside.
In moments, he was doing his one-two-three hops trying to get a handle on the energy coursing through him from the poison now flowing through his veins. The knowledge that he was so far gone into the life bothered me to no end, but one thing I knew at the age of nineteen—you couldn’t save someone who didn’t want to save themselves. I think that’s what stung the deepest.
Keeping my aviator sunglasses in place, I don’t give him the chance to see my eyes or read me. Instead, I kept shit real like always. “Fuckin’ hate when you do that shit, bro.” I told him the same shit I said every fucking time he took a line in front of me.
“Javi, don’t be a pussy. We earn this shit.”
I shook my head back and forth because I didn’t agree. We earned money. The money that bought Mamá a house and kept Mari Belle in that expensive as fuck Catholic high school. We had a car now for ourselves. We had things, clothes, jewelry, televisions, and more. That’s what we earned. Getting hooked on dope? No, that was a slick move by Paco to keep us in line. I wasn’t a dumb fucker. Maricio and I may both be dropouts, but stupid I was not. Paco wanted us hooked on the drugs. Then we wouldn’t dare challenge him or anyone in the cartel.
While I wouldn’t be questioning anyone, I also wouldn’t get myself hooked on anything more than pussy. I lived my life my way now. Nineteen years old, and I supported my family. Proudly. I crossed a line into illegal activities without a doubt, but I didn’t cross the lines of my own moral code—drugs and women, I didn’t touch them. While I would fuck a broad, I wouldn’t hurt one. While I had killed a man, I wouldn’t end a woman or child. My code to live by, regardless of what my associates did. Maricio, he would do anything Paco said as long as he got high before he did it.
Yeah, watching him made me more determined. I wasn’t about to be dependent on anyone or anything but myself.
My father failed our family. I wouldn’t be the next man to let my mother down.
Maricio couldn’t see beyond the haze of his drug induced stupor to understand he had fucked up. When he was high, he was a pain in the ass. When he was sober, he was a pain in the ass looking to get high. Paco had him right where he wanted him. Paco had the power, not Maricio.
No soldier would fall out of line when the shit you wanted pumping through your veins was handed to you on a silver platter by your General. That was Paco, he was like our General. While Miguel Silvia had attended Maria Luisa’s wake and service along with covering the bills, the man rarely spoke to us. In fact, we had only seen him once in the three years since her death. Paco, he was the one we couldn’t shake. He was everywhere.
Paco wasn’t a bad guy, but I don’t think it could be said that he was good either. He called us his hijos, his sons, like we were familia. But really, in the back of my mind, I always wondered what kind of man didn’t want his sons to better themselves? He knew firsthand the dangers of this lifestyle, having been shot in the past. Why, if he loved us so much, would he want this life for us?
Opportunity, that was why.
He saw an opportunity with us years ago and he took it. With no father figure to guide us or lead by example, we were easy prey. Now that he had us, well, he could set us up however he saw fit. He knew we would fall in line because what other choices did we have. If I had stayed in school when he pushed us to drop out, it would have been like I was questioning the Cartel. One thing no one did was question the Cartel. You did as you were told without deviation.
This was a life game. You got in it and the only way out was in a box. The kind of box they bury six feet under and forget.
It wasn’t some blood in, blood out thing like in the movies. I didn’t have my first kill until my eighteenth birthday. I was brought in as a boy on a bike to take the fall if shit hit the fan. My life was a desperate cry for survival. I didn’t want help, I wanted to earn my way and I did. But my options at ten were shit and Miguel Silvia gave me a chance. His organization gave me more than my father ever did. Paco was part of that. So, even if I saw through his bullshit, I took it.
I took it because when Maricio and I had shit, they gave us a way out. They gave us an opportunity. While Maricio might snort his, I would make mine work for me for the rest of my life.
I didn’t have a way out now and I knew it. I accepted my fate. So, like a man chasing a legit career goal and dream, I was going to work my way all the way to the top. Silvia wouldn’t live forever. I knew what I had to do—keep my head down and do the fucking work. One job at a time, earn my place.
Time was my best fucking friend and I had plenty of it.
“You ready?” I asked Maricio once he seemed to have control of his high.
“You betcha, bro,” he answered me confidently before he led the way inside Miguel’s home.
We were in Colonia Juarez which was in the valley of Piedras Verdes River on the edge of the flatlands of Chihuahua. From the front gate, we could look out and see the big temple for the Mormons. Paco always said Miguel kept his house here because he watched the LDS (Church of Latter Day Saints) Church. He wanted the power they had. The following of people who were so devout.
I never got that impression from Miguel.
Paco was the power seeker. Miguel had it, so why did Paco chase it so fiercely? It didn’t make sense to me, but I didn’t care to question it either.
The gates opened and Maricio and I walked through them. It was the rule, never drive a car through Silvia gates unless you were Miguel Silvia or carried his last name. If you weren’t his blood, you walked into his world and if you were lucky you could walk back out.
The brick paved driveway was laid by hand as Miguel’s way to give back to the locals, Paco said. I took it as the man needed a job done and there were plenty of workers here in town willing to put in the sweat. Some things weren’t complicated unless you made them so and I preferred to keep my shit simple.
With my glasses in place, we made it to the front door where we were greeted and allowed in by Gabriel. He was Miguel’s top man. He led us to the conference room on the first floor just to the right of the front door. Miguel’s house was huge, probably well over six thousand square feet. In all the years we had been working for the Silvia Cartel, we were never allowed any further into the home or around the property than this. Miguel took his privacy seriously and I understood that. A man in his position could trust no one.
Taking our places at the end of the table, I kept my glasses down like always. My eyes weren’t for anyone to read but my mother, Maricio when I wanted him to, and Mari Belle. My mirror lensed aviator sunglasses were always in place, even at night. Since my first kill when Paco was in my ear telling me not to let them read me, I put the glasses on and never looked back.
“Bienvenido,” Miguel welcomed us as everyone settled and Gabriel closed the door.
We all nodded and murmured our replies.
Miguel wasn’t a tall and overbearing man. While smaller in size, he had a look of venom in his eyes and a scar that ran across his neck as a reminder to enemies and friends alike that he overcame death before. It was said he sold his soul to the Devil to make him invincible. I didn’t buy into the myth, but there wasn’t a single doubt in my mind he was fearless.
He wore a dark navy suit today with a blood red shirt. An envelope in his hand was slid down the table to Maricio.
“Dominguez, we are setting you up in America. With your sister and Almanza here, crossing the border won’t be questioned so thoroughly and we have someone to help with the crossing. So here is your paperwork. You will make a life in Las Cruces, New Mexico. We have you set and ready. So pack your bag, your keys to your home are inside, as is the address. You will be our point person.”
Maricio was shocked speechless, but he nodded his head. My mind raced.
“Your sister stays here with Almanza,” Miguel explained and I let the relief wash over me. Maricio was unpredictable on the drugs. Mari was safer with me. “They will marry after her eighteenth birthday, which is in three weeks. Quick service, you need not be here for it. I am sure Almanza will handle it appropriately.” His gaze shifted to me. “Almanza, you will have one month from her birthday to give her your name or I give her to someone else.”
Married. One month from her birthday.
My stomach churned and a rage built inside me from my belly. How dare he threaten to give Mari away like property! I would kill Miguel Silvia before someone else was given my Mari.
He ordered an arranged marriage between Mari Belle and me. No one seemed surprised. My heart beat sped up in my chest. Everything was splintering around us. They were separating Maricio and I physically, but tying us together permanently through family ties.
“Does Mari have a choice in this?” I allowed the words to topple from my mouth.
Silvia smirked as an evil grin built across his face. “It is my understanding the girl has a fondness for you, Almanza. Word on the street is you know how to keep the ladies happy so I am sure you can make it all very nice for Dominguez’s hermanita.”
My stomach churned while Maricio sat beside me with the envelope in his hand. He turned to me like a proud peacock with his feathers out. “We’re just making shit official. Mari will do as she’s told.”
The room slowly closed in on me. I chose this life for mi familia, but to force her to marry me—it didn’t sit right.
The rest of the meeting went on without me paying attention. No one could tell because behind my glasses my eyes twitched as my mind went over the many ways I had to fix this. I wouldn’t force Mari to marry me and I wouldn’t short change her dreams because of a decision her brother and I made.
After we were dismissed, Maricio and I made our exit. Once we got beyond the gate, I stopped him.
“Don’t tell Mari,” I ordered and he laughed at me which only pissed me off.
“Gonna give it good, Javi. You’re gonna make shit good. Just take what’s yours. I know you care for Mari. Honestly, look around us, brother. This is the best thing to happen to her. If you don’t take her, someone surely will in a trade.”
He was calm. He was okay with this. I had his permission. My fist balled, my hand raised, and I came at him with the right hook before he ever saw it coming.
Blood splattered from his nose as he jerked back to look at me.
“What the fuck! Don’t tell me you don’t want to marry her! The way you hold her close night after night. Since my mother died, you haven’t spent a night without her in your bed. Fuck, we bought a house big enough for all of us. You have a room, she has a room, but where the fuck do you two end up—together. Just because you haven’t fucked her doesn’t mean that pussy isn’t yours. Javi, you might fuck other chicks because you’re a man, but dude, my sister has you wrapped and has since she was little. She’s my sister, but I’m far from blind, Javi. I know what you two talk about and how she sees you. I know you haven’t crossed a line. It’s the kind of man you are, the good kind. The kind that don’t fucking exist anymore, especially not in the world we live in. I’m giving you my damn blessing before someone fucks her up that we can’t protect her from. You will give my sister the best life possible. I think this is our chance, Javi. Let me get to America, build a life, a business. I’ll get the pull to bring you guys up behind me. Just do this and we take our time before we’re all together again.”
The truth of his words stung more than my hand after punching him.
“Get with it, Javi. Stop trying to protect her virtue and give her safety in a way we couldn’t before. Silvia is taking me away no matter what. That leaves you to keep her and Mamá safe all on your own. Give her your name and let that mark her untouchable from both my name and yours, dammit.”
Fuck, he was right.
“Don’t tell her. She comes to me on her own choice. I don’t take shit from women, especially not their future.”
“Fine,” he ground out not happy with me.
I didn’t give a shit. I wouldn’t force Mari. No matter what I was ordered to do, this would be something she wanted or it wouldn’t happen at all. I would protect Mari Belle, even from me.
Miguel Silvia and the cartel be damned.