Cadillac Payback: Rising Tide by AJ Elmore (the false prince .TXT) 📕

She says ‘back home’ like she hasn’t spent more of her life in the States than in the country where she was born. Her words are all the affirmation I need to know that I’m on the right road with my theories. I internalize it, and channel that poker game on the back porch. The difference is that my hand is shit, and her cards are people.

The Rubio family. That’s Mateo’s brood. Funny, he seemed more than eager to please the last time I met with him and Abuela. Could it be that family doesn’t know she’s setting them up for a stateside coup? I’ll wait.

She says, “They do not like the percentage of power I hold on this side of the border, and they are prepared to try to take it by force.”

There it is. The second tally mark on the wall of my prison cell. She doesn’t want my report. No details on what happened – the color of the car, how many people in the car, the fact that the bullet was a nine millimeter. Nothing. She certainly doesn’t care that Josh is lying in a hospital bed, riding the line between death and life.

He’s too green to be of any other use to her, and Maria is a perfect lamb. Abuela will never give her more rank, she would be too much of a threat. But she’s family, so she’s a really great tool to take advantage of.

I can’t move. Can’t speak. The same anxiety that took me in my apartment has a grip on my balls now. Does she really expect me to believe this horseshit? Of course. She doesn’t actually know me like my crew does. My crew.

“Security will be of utmost importance, and I must rely on you, since not everyone can be trusted,” she says.

I know she’s measuring me as she spews all this rich fertilizer, making sure I’m catching the full implications of her words. I haven’t moved save to breathe and blink. My muscles are strung with sharp pains.

“I am assigning you to Jorge. I fear he will be a target,” she says.

No, she wants to make extra sure the deal goes through so she can circumvent the supply across the border. Yeah, bitch, I’m keeping up. She has handed me the last piece of the puzzle with a big red bow on top. I nod. It’s jerkier than I’d like.

“Si, Senora,” I hear myself say. Muscle memory and conditioning, because I don’t remember being able to move again.

Her expression as a whole doesn’t change, but I catch a twitch in her right eye. Is she doubting herself, or my stability? Maybe she’s trying to figure out if I’m buying her story. If she really fucking knew me, she wouldn’t have had this meeting. If she really knew, she wouldn’t assign me to her dope team when Maria is now without a right hand.

All of this and she still hasn’t mentioned Isaiah. At this point, she doesn’t need to. She knows I’m aware of his presence, and I’m pretty sure I’ve figured that one out, too. By spreading our old crew out across her board, she has more power in loyalty to her – our loyalty to each other in our devotion to Maria. In essence, she’s using her granddaughter in yet another way.

It really goes to show that she doesn’t know as much as she thinks she does if she doesn’t realize that, for the most part, the men in our crew didn’t really get along. She’s still staring at me, so she must expect more of an answer than my acquiescence.

“I will familiarize myself with Jorge’s schedule, and adjust accordingly,” I say, meticulously maintaining the flat and dry tone that I’m known for.

She takes another slow sip. Her eyes never leave me. Does she think I’ll crack and give her some glimpse of the state of my inner sanctum? Not fucking likely.

Then she says, “It’s late, and you look tired, so we will keep this short. From here, you will report security details and concerns directly to me. You will inform me of any suspicious activity from your superior.”

I nod. At least she’s right about one thing. I am tired. I’m real fucking tired of being dragged by a noose around my neck.

“I will be in touch tomorrow. I believe there is a meeting scheduled that you will need to attend,” she says.

I need to get the fuck out of here now, because the thought has occurred to me that I could bury a bullet between her eyes, and probably take out every other member of security currently in this mansion. I could probably make it out of here alive. I almost don’t care about the last part.

“Thank you. Goodnight,” I say, and I sound far away from myself. I don’t even care that I switched back to English.

As I leave the room, I’m numb. My brain is a mess of processing everything that just happened, and I let it run like a computer. I let familiarity carry me back toward the exit, and I snatch up my coat without a word or look in the direction of the shithead guard.

Outside, as I throw my leg over my bike, I hesitate. That last idea may be the best one I’ve had yet.

Chapter 27 Rising Tide

Isaiah

It’s 10:45 in the morning, and Mona, the Douche Wonder, and I are waiting for the elevator. It’s one floor down, but when I suggested taking the stairs, Mona had looked at me like I was a rotting carcass. I know I could take the stairs anyway, and they would either follow or meet me downstairs. I’m not feeling that rebellious.

We have a lunch meeting with Jorge in a private room at some stupidly upscale place in the Quarter. It’s not my style, definitely not Jorge’s, so this should be