Page 14 of Intent to Kill
Adam pinched his nose. It had been too much trouble trying to integrate Dan and Carlos, lifelong Cortez Cartel members, with Paul, a Blake Family associate. A lot harder than he thought it would be. Divide and distrust were second nature. Stiff as a rock, harder to break.
“It’s not Blake’s versus Cortez’s anymore... not for us, at least, let’s cool that attitude,” Adam said.
“Look, I like the money that we make on our own, but I don’t know if I can ever trust a Blake bag-boy,” Carlos said.
Paul folded his arms and stretched to make himself as large as possible. Wisely, Dan and Carlos took a hesitant step back.
“If we’re going to go it alone, we have to start acting like a team, and at some point, like family,” Adam said.
“This isn’t my fucking family,” Dan said.
Adam threw his hands in the air in defeat. “Can I get a word?” Adam said to Paul. “Dan, Carlos, why don’t you divide up the cash from today’s job.”
Snickering, Dan and Carlos squeezed around the tiny table.
Outside the trailer, Adam held the door open, ushering his arms until Paul joined him.
The lot was nothing pretty, that was for sure. It was a dirt-only park, not a shred of greenery in sight, and frequent dust storms blew through the area. Every trailer around the semi-circle in that corner, including Paul’s, had a cheap green-and-white awning with plastic deck chairs sitting underneath.
“Dan and Carlos, they really are good guys, I swear,” Adam said, shutting the door as calmly as he could, considering.
“I know,” Paul admitted. “They don’t want to trust me because I’m aligned with the Blake’s and they’re aligned with the Cortez’s, I get it.”
Dan and Carlos had saved Adam’s ass more times throughout their lives than he could count. And Paul was a good guy, like so many others, pushed into working for the Blake Family based solely on what side of the city he lived on. “I wanted us to go out on our own so we didn’t have to do this Blake versus Cortez thing anymore, it’s just not coming together.”
“It’s not all bad. We’re making a lot of profit,” Paul said.
“Yeah, I know,” Adam sighed, sitting down on a plastic chair and cradling his face.
“Money isn’t nothing. Fuck knows I need it. Putting my little sis through med school was not fucking cheap.”
Paul’s sister was the first black doctor to graduate in Ridge City. It was a big deal.
“Ineedthis to work,” Paul said.
“I know. So do I. I just need to get everyone to stop snapping at each other.”
“I shouldn’t snap back at them, it’s just–”
“I don’t blame you. I just feel like there’s something missing. We need something to bring the team together.”
Paul nodded, but didn’t reply. It seemed Paul didn’t have any more answers than Adam did himself.
“Doesn’t it just feel like something is missing?” Adam asked.
“It definitely feels that way,” Paul said.
“We need something that’s going to turn the four of us into something great, you know?” Adam said. “Three Cortez exiles and one Blake deserter don’t really glue together.”
Adam was about to cut his losses and call it a problem for another day when he looked up at Paul. The man was grinning ear to ear, looking like he’d discovered his birthday and Christmas presents had all arrived on the same day.
“Then we’ll need glue,” Paul said. “Maybe four people isn’t enough.”
“What do you mean?”
“Four people. It doesn’t work. It’s not enough.”
“You think?” Adam said, standing up to face him.
