Loving a Bad Boy (3 page)

His thoughts must have translated to his
face because Francisco scowled at him. “You do not see the problem?
How can you correct it then?” he asked.

Julio gazed at his mentor and lowered his
voice. “I can correct the weapons situation.”

Francisco chuckled dryly. “With tact, not
force. Diplomacy is called for in this venture,” his lips twisted
slightly, “which is not your strongest calling.”

Once again, Julio agreed with the assessment
of his character and didn’t argue the point. “Then why do you want
me to go?” He paused and then chuckled. It was a low, non-humorous
sound. “Oh…I’m family. Blood of his blood, right? You think sending
a blood relative in to check out the problem is less threatening,
huh?”

The look Francisco sent him would have made
another cringe or piss in his pants. Julio had seen grown men do
both. But he was beyond that with his “godfather.” The old man had
been second to his grandfather, Benito Cardenas, the previous
Cartel boss, and he wanted to see a Cardenas in charge again. For
some reason, he had it in his mind Julio would be that man. Julio
wasn’t sure if he, or anyone, could fill his Patron’s shoes, but
he’d come to realize the lifestyle wasn’t as bad as he’d initially
thought. In some areas he flourished, in others, he was still
finding his way.

When he didn’t change his demeanor or turn
away from Francisco’s stare, the older man pointed at him.
“Insolent pup.”

Julio nodded, a smile tugging at his lips.
He knew Francisco wouldn’t want him any other way. “Perhaps. But
I’m right and you know it.”

Francisco sighed again, this time pinching
the bridge of his nose. “This is serious business. It is not good
to go to Miami with guns blazing, knives flying, and your mouth
wagging. Desperate men do desperate things. Not everyone will fall
in line with your suggestions easily.” His face hardened as he
dropped his hand. “This is not American TV! You must use your wits
and charm to get to the bottom of the problem. I want to avoid this
situation exploding in our faces.”

Julio stared at the red blotches on his
godfather's normally clear face. Beads of sweat rolled down
Francisco's neck in the cool air-conditioned car. Something had the
older man on edge, something he wasn’t telling him. “You expect me
to go to Miami, face hostile relatives over a financial landmine,
possibly lose my life or those of my men, and yet you withhold the
real reason why? And don’t bother telling me it’s about money, I
know better. What the hell’s going on?”

“
You will be told
everything you need to know before you leave.” The lines became
more pronounced on Francisco’s face as he pushed a button on his
cell phone.

“
Sir?” the driver's voice
flowed through the speaker.

“
I am ready to depart.”
Francisco spoke, ignoring Julio.

“
Yes, Sir.”

Francisco replaced his sunglasses and looked
in Julio’s direction. “I believe you can handle this situation in a
manner that represents me well. I expect you to give your all, men
will follow your directions one day when you replace me. Remember
that.”

“
I never
asked—“”

Francisco waved him down. “I have heard it
all before. You don’t want to be Cartel Chief. You’re not ready.
What is the newest one?” He snapped his fingers. “I remember. A
Cardenas doesn’t have to remain in charge since I’m not a
Cardenas.”

Face warming, Julio remained silent. He’d
made all the statements over the past three years while trying to
dissuade the old man from his course. It hadn’t worked.

“
Problem is, you are a
Cardenas. Your mama hid you for years and now everyone, friends and
enemies of your grandfather are aware you exist. The Cartel is the
only thing keeping you alive. Use caution and never forget that.”
Francisco inhaled deeply and locked eyes with Julio. “You have my
support in this endeavor.”

Pissed, Julio schooled his
features and nodded at the abrupt dismissal. The door opened and he
stepped out. The skies were still dreary, but this time the
gloominess touched him in a way it hadn’t before. He didn't
consider himself superstitious, but there was something about the
episode in the car just now that had warning bells clanging in his
mind. His BS meter blared loud and long. Miami would be a
life-changing event and there was nothing he could do about
it.
Bring it on
.
Head high, shoulders back, he strode to the Hummer and his men.
Once he was seated, he turned to Tex.

“
Problem?” Tex
asked.

“
Solution. We’re going to
Miami.”

Chapter 2

“
The Feds are all over
this thing. They've taken the five men into custody, the two men
who dragged me inside are still missing,” Smoke said, explaining
the kidnapping situation that'd happened a few years
ago.

Julio fought down the
anger that threatened to choke him. He wiped all emotion from his
voice. “They are dead.”

“
Really?” Smoke sounded
surprised, which in turned surprised Julio. They were brothers. No
one would hurt Smoke and live.

“
Of course. I didn’t know
where they took you, but I did see him. He was dead at that moment,
mi Amigo,” Julio explained.

“
Damn, I wanted to kick
their asses myself,” Smoke teased.

“
Do not worry, I believe
the ass-whupping they received would make you proud.”

Smoke laughed. His
features twisted and changed into Gerald Black, Julio’s stepfather.
“It’s not just the killing, it’s the intent behind it. To kill a
man, you don’t know for money is murder and beneath you,” the older
man said.

“
You killed for years and
the military paid you. Did you know those men?”

“
That was different,”
Gerald snapped. “It was my job.”

“
Yeah, mine too. I bet the
men you killed would argue the difference since they are just as
dead as those I took out.”

From the distance he heard
his mom’s voice. “They own you. You’ll never be free.” Red, the
color of blood flowed across his vision. He tried to find her.
“Mom!”

“
Shoot them first,”
Francisco said from the side. “Fear will keep them in
line.”

“
Shouldn’t I question them
first?” He’d been taught to hear through the matter before making a
decision.

“
Question them after,
they’ll be more ready to talk.” Julio spun around as the popping
sounds of gunfire filled the air.

“
Julio, I didn’t want this
life for you.” The teary sounding voice of his mother penetrated
the red veil, ripping it from view.

“
I know,” he said
swallowing hard, wishing for her sake that things could be
different. “But I have to honor the decision I made.” The sound of
wailing reached his ears. His gut twisted as the need to comfort
her rode him hard. “I’ll be okay, Mom.” He lied. The only place
this lifestyle was safe or glamorous was on TV. Reality was a
bitch. Torture and death were the soup du jour. Money was God.
Power a drug. There were days he fought hard to remember the value
of life.

“
How can you do this to
her,” Gerald growled from behind him.

Julio spun to face the man
who raised him. “I didn’t do this to her. I made a choice. I used
the Cartel to save my friend.” He paused as the pain to his family
for his decision smashed into him. “Never leave a man behind,
remember?”

Francisco’s voice
intruded. “You are a Cardenas. Your grandfather was the
best…”

“
My son is not my father,”
his mother’s voice argued. It hurt he couldn’t see her, then again
perhaps it was best.

“
Your son has a lot of
Benito in him. I have seen what he will do when angered. He can be
just as…committed to his task.”

“
Let him go,” his mother
begged.

“
You’re better than this,”
Gerald said from the sidelines.

“
Aim for the heart to kill
or the thigh to ask questions,” Francisco instructed. The voices
amplified in his head, each pushing their own agenda.

A foul-smelling fog
hovered on the edge of his consciousness, nudging him to perform
darker deeds. Seductively whispering his name, waiting for him to
trip up so it could claim him. He choked and writhed as the
swirling mist entangled him. His stepfather stood on one side, his
hands stretched out in supplication. Francisco reached for him on
the other.

No air.

He couldn’t breathe.
Gagging, he struggled to fight back. In the distance he saw her. A
light trying to reach him, but the shadows blocked her
path.

“
No!” He screamed as the
darkness rose up over him again.

Julio’s eyes popped open.
Sweat rolled down his neck, soaking his shirt. Chest heaving, he
pulled in air as he looked around the interior of the mid-sized
private jet, hoping no one had paid him any attention. He
unclenched his fist slowly.

“
You want that?” Tex, his
second-in-command, asked, pointing to his untouched fruit
plate.

After adjusting his
sunglasses, he shook his head, more to dispel the remnants of the
garish dream than anything. “Nah.”

Tex picked up the plate
and sat across from him. Julio glanced out the window at the
coastline.

“
You okay?”

He looked at Tex and
shrugged. They had been working together for the past two years,
very little got past him. “Just thinking about the cost of things.”
He decided to call his stepfather later tonight. It had been too
long since they really talked. Perhaps this time, Gerald would say
more than a few empty words in greeting.

“
Pretty high these days,
huh?”

Julio peered at the
perceptive man in front of him. “Yeah.” His first kills had been
personal and necessary in his book. But the others, they didn’t sit
as comfortably on his thirty year old shoulders. He had the same
dream at the beginning of every job. Each time the dark mist came
closer to catching him. But this time there was a woman with a
light. That was new.

“
Wanna talk about
it?”

“
No.” A
chill skittered down his spine. Some lines when crossed could never
be erased. Knowing the cost, he had made the decision to save his
friends. In all honesty, he’d do it again without hesitation. But
that didn’t mean he never wondered what his life would be like
outside the organization.
The
woman
...

“
Talked to Smoke lately?”
Tex asked.

“
No.” Julio looked out the
window, trying to corral his thoughts from careening down roads
he’d rather not travel. It was futile; the gate had opened and
refused to be shut.

Was the woman from Three X
Construction?
Yes? No
! He didn’t understand how that played into anything
happening now. Construction work had been therapy for him. His
hands created masterpieces that brought joy, not destruction, to
others. The simplicity of creating something out of a block of wood
had provided the impetus for him to survive outside the Cartel,
which pleased his mother. As the daughter of a former Cartel boss,
she'd wanted him far away from the tentacles of the organization.
She’d moved to America and married an army man. She’d had high
hopes for him.

Those days were behind
him.

Queasiness assailed his
stomach as the landing gears dropped.
Twelve men
. That’s how many lives he
had ended in the past three years. For him, if it wasn’t personal,
it never got easier. He simply trudged forward, refusing to mourn
his decisions. They couldn’t be undone.

The captain’s announcement to sit up and
buckle their seatbelts came over the plane's intercom, effectively
shut down his wayward thoughts. Inhaling deeply, he glanced at his
watch and then checked his gun. They would be landing soon.

The moment the door of the private plane
opened, the hot, heavy Miami air buffeted Julio Cardenas' face. He
braced himself against the bulkhead. Despite his best intentions
not to flinch, he was certain the small gesture was noted by his
men. No question he was in the south.

Gone was the cool fall air of Michigan, and
the chilly breezes that required additional layers of clothing.
Instead, the Florida sun scorched his face and sent a sizzling
trail of heat down his torso, making a mockery of his determination
to wear boxers and a tee-shirt. He'd known Miami would be hot, but
no one had mentioned the crippling humidity. Staring at the tarmac,
he watched as an insidious vapor rose from the pavement, shimmering
briefly in agreement with his assessment before disappearing
beneath the midday sun. He reflected on the television ads which
spoke of the fun in the sun; those had been taken on a beach with
barely clothed models. Fully dressed, the sun wasn’t that much
fun.