Page 68 of Shifting Hearts
TWO
Alejandro
T his side of the border always makes me feel resentful.
I unclench my fists and smooth down the wrinkles in my pants.
Even though I am in a $6000 suit, the people in this town still find a way to rub me the wrong way. Whether it is a woman grabbing her children and fleeing out of my way. Or grown men who cross to the other side of the street when they see me coming.
Although that could have more to do with the fact that I am a scary motherfucker.
The jagged, protruding scar on my cheek is a reminder of the night I lost my mother, but now I use the scar and my constant snarl to my advantage.
Not that I need it.
My reputation precedes me wherever I go.
There is not one of the cartel’s enemies who has not heard of El Beso de la Serpiente , The Serpent’s Kiss.
We slowly pull into the club’s parking lot, coming to a stop. I get out of the dark SUV and surveil the area for anything suspicious-looking while I open the back door for my uncle.
He puts his hand on my shoulder with a reassuring touch. “Relax, poor boy. No one would dare attack us here. Besides, I’m here to meet an old friend, not stir up some shit, Alejandro.”
He pulls at his expensive suit sleeves with the gold cufflinks of the Rivera Family crest, and confidently strides to the strip club’s door.
I close the car door but remain vigilant.
Nothing good comes from interacting with the filth found in this town. Not to mention the location used for doing business.
Stroke the Kitty should change its name to ‘Spread the Chlamydia,’ not that anyone takes my word for it.
The Rivera cartel enjoys the perks afforded to us by our status. And when my men hear, we are coming to this place, they always jump at the chance to be included in my crew.
Sometimes, members of the inner circle like to come to this side of the border and enforce their power by taking whatever they want. Whether it is girls or money or something more, it always makes these visits unpredictable. And dangerous.
Which makes my job as an enforcer all the more challenging.
I need to be ready to take someone out at a moment's notice.
When we are here, we come in full force, and my men also get the opportunity to dip into some other pussy without their wives knowing.
Or so they think.
Of course, the women know what they get up to.
It is that sixth sense that my mama had warned me about.
And it is also the reason I keep my cock out of strange holes, and therefore, trouble.
My mama said that when you meet your true soulmate, there is nothing that could remain hidden between the two of you. When I was younger, I thought she said these things to justify the loose woman my father paraded before her in her own home.
Because she also said that Rivera men were insatiable, and the only thing that made me better than the rest was that she knew I had a fated mate.
On the other hand, she also promised she wouldn’t leave me until I found said mate, so I guess she lied about a lot of things.
It made sense to me that she would have wanted to protect me from such things and even instilled a higher sense of integrity in me.
Not that it mattered now.
I still became part of the organization she hated. Became a man that she would have loathed.
Not to mention the peculiarity of my unique skills that she kept from me all those years.
I push through the door into the dimly lit area filled with smoke and the smell of stale sex and cigarettes.
There is a lit stage in front with a woman dangling from a pole in a flimsy getup.
Tables and chairs are placed throughout the room, where random men receive lap dances and drink excessively.
This place epitomizes everything I dislike about El Paso. From the cheap liquor behind the bar to the depraved souls vying for the attention of the desperate woman.
My eyes adjust rapidly to the room, and I watch intently as my uncle is escorted to one of the rooms at the back. I turn to the men and gesture at three of them to follow me.
The rest know what to do. My men will spread out and assess the situation inside the club to look for potential threats before stationing themselves within reach of the room we are in, guarding the exits.
I have trained them well.
Some might feel the need to relax and indulge in the girls who will come sit on their laps to garner some favor with the cartel.
I follow the corridor until I reach the open door where my uncle is making himself comfortable on a red velvet couch.
The tacky décor leaves much to be desired.
Peering inside, I see the room has a little more lighting than the inside of the seedy club, with a polished pole in the middle and another few random seats scattered around.
A dinged coffee table is set before the couch, and it is already lined with a few shot glasses.
I instead point to the opposite side of the room, and my men move to stand against the wall, ready for anything.
My uncle gestures to one of the seats opposite him, but I would rather sit in a dumpster than take that chance.
It is such a shame that these women have to work in such conditions.
However, I can’t show any concern because that would contradict the image I have cultivated over many years.
My mother might have taught me to respect women, but my father made sure to beat it out of me any chance he got. Exhibit A: My intimidating scar.
He once told me that my mother wasn’t the saint she pretended to be because she had arranged a marriage match for me.
I wonder if that wasn’t her way of looking out for me after she was gone.
My father, of course, slapped me on the back and told me he had taken care of it, so there was no need for me to worry. Still, I do sometimes yearn for a simpler life. But I would miss the killing too much.
The owner of the club, with his greasy comb-over and shiny shirt buttons straining for release, apologizes vehemently for the girls being late, but I know that doesn’t bother my uncle.
Uncle Angelo might be a lieutenant in the cartel, but he has never treated anyone with disrespect, unlike the rest of the family, who thrive on chaos, sometimes demanding respect with a bullet to the brain.
I subtly reach for my gun when a pompous little man bursts in the door and announces himself loudly. “Who’d have thought we’d see the day that Angelo Rivera came to see me, the great Don Alvarez, on my side of the border. It’s truly an auspicious day.”
He strolls in and wraps my uncle, who has gotten up from his seat, in a hug before he kisses both cheeks. I will take delight in private about the look of disdain on my uncle’s face.
“Is that what I’m supposed to call you now? Don Alvarez?” my uncle replies with a slight smile on his face.
The little man waves his men off, taking a step forward. “Of course not, Angelo. You can call me Don.”
Incredulity sweeps over my uncle’s face, informing me that this is not at all what he expected. The man before him might have been his friend at some stage, but not anymore.
The sleezy club owner’s shoulders sag in relief when three girls enter the room. The first is practically naked with two pasties on her nipples and a gold G-string that barely covers anything.
The second has a bright pink lingerie set on that has undoubtedly seen some better days.
But it is the third woman who captures my attention. She has strawberry-blond hair, which frames her face with minimal makeup. Her athletic build fills the black one-piece with curves, the thin straps barely containing her breasts.
She looks out of place when she steps into the room hesitantly but quickly follows the other two’s lead when they start dancing seductively to the low, sultry music filling the room.
I tear my gaze away from the woman and try to focus on the conversation between the two men.
“Why did you ask me to meet you here… Don ?” My uncle isn’t used to taking a knee. And this man clearly expects it from him.
Putting his hand on my uncle’s shoulder, the don gestures to the shots lined up on the table. “First, let’s take a drink to mark this occasion.”
He grabs two seemingly random glasses, but something doesn’t feel right.
Hesitantly, my uncle takes the shot glass handed to him, and I motion with the slight shake of my head for him not to drink it, catching his look over the don’s head.
The drinks were already in the room when we got here.
We have no idea if it is safe to drink. But my uncle can hardly refuse as the man clinks the glasses together and downs the shot.
A movement from my side draws my attention as I see the strawberry blond trip over her own two feet and fall forward onto the table to demolish all the shots still left standing.
My uncle also seizes the opportunity to get rid of the shot in his hand.
I dive forward to help the woman up as her two friends only stare at her and the destruction she has caused.
Shot glasses are sprawled all over the floor, and my men rush forward to help gather everything.
“I’m so sorry. Please forgive me. It’s my first time in these shoes, and I put them on to impress you, but it seems I might’ve done more harm than good.”
If this woman only knew. She saved me from putting the new Don in a chokehold and maybe a situation that could decimate the little goodwill we have with this rival cartel.
She seems more stable on her feet, and my hand wanders to her waist to ensure she doesn’t take another tumble.
And that is when I felt it.
It would have been imperceptible if I wasn’t already familiar with the feeling.
My fingertips graze against a slight texture on the skin of her bare hip, and when I focus on her shoulder, that is when I see it.
The distinct ripple of smooth skin transforming right before my eyes into a scaly texture, hidden in her fairness and the lights of the room.
The iridescent gleam doesn’t escape my keen sight, and my heart does a little flip.
She shudders as she watches me take it all in. The spell is only broken when the don jumps up from the couch and starts screaming.
“You stupid, good-for-nothing woman. How can you fuck this up so monumentally and still beg for my forgiveness? There’s nothing that can save you. Disappear before my eyes. NOW!”
My body vibrates with my reluctance to let her go, but my uncle gives me a look that forces me to. I drop my hands from her waist and watch her walk out with her shoulders back and her back straight.
She might not have said anything, but I saw the look of determination on her face. She wasn’t going to be treated this way.
The other two girls start dancing again, and I motion for one of my men to go get more drinks. If the don wants to drink something, we would ensure it was safe to drink.
“I’m sorry for the interruption, Angelo. It’s just so hard to get good help these days. Now, where were we?” the don whines with a nasally tone.
My uncle gives me a slight nod, and I return to my place against the wall, weary of anything that looks out of place.
I already have an eerie feeling in my gut that everything is not as it seems here. And I can tell just by looking at the shiny eyes on the odious little man that I’m not going to like what he says next.
Uncle Angelo leans back and waits patiently for Don Alvarez to continue. It is an intimidation technique I have seen him use many times.
And it never fails.
“Well, yes, as I was saying, I have a business proposal for you.” He starts stuttering. “I’m aware that you’re the only lieutenant dead set against expanding the business.” Don Alvarez folds his hands in his lap, but tiny beads of sweat form on his bald head.
Uncle Angelo takes another minute and then answers strategically. “That is not true. I am the only one who disagrees with the trafficking of innocent women and children. And as you know, all decisions in our cartel must be unanimous.”
“But the possibilities are endless, Angelo. In fact, I can almost guarantee that there would be no repercussions. And if no one is looking for these women, are they really missing?” he objects.
Confusion that matches mine crosses Uncle Angelo’s face. “What do you mean by that? Not only is this morally wrong, but there will also, of course, be someone who misses these women. And we would take the heat with our proximity to the border.”
Don Alvarez rubs his hands with the short sausage fingers together in glee and almost squeals in delight. “Not if nobody wanted them to begin with. Orphans, my friend, orphans are the way to go.”
No! I cannot be hearing this.
All the respect I have for my uncle is demolished with one sentence.
“Tell me more about your plan.”