Page 62 of High

“Joaquin has already started selling over there and we’ve had a good reception so far,” I said, leaning against the front of my desk with my hands wrapped around the edges.

She nodded. “Which reminds me, we had a visitor to the one salon we do have up and running. An Irishman, very Irish, curly hair, with a nice suit and handsome. Elena said it didn’t seem like he was fishing for information, but he was checking the place out.”

I shouldn’t have been surprised. There was a reason Killough was a threat. “Name?”

“He only gave her the name James. Handsome hombre. He had a cute blond man with him, but he seemed to be more than along for the ride, if you know what I mean. Apparently they were very close.”

I chuckled. Let the war begin. “Sounds like one of Killough’s generals, Jamie Shannon.”

“Should we be worried?” Tadeo asked, wrapping his thick arm around Noa’s shoulders and dragging her closer. She snuggled in because while he looked like a monster, he was more like a teddy bear when it came to familia. “I could go to Miami and sort him out if you needed me to.”

“No. We’ll wait this out. If Killough wants to act, we’ll defend ourselves, but we won’t make the first move.” I crossed my arms and narrowed my eyes in thought. “Right now he’s got too much happening. Rumors say he’s handling multiple crises between the Italian war and the DEA up his ass. I don’t think he’ll deliberately start another problem for himself so soon.”

“Don’t be so sure,” Arlo said, finally speaking up. It was strange hearing his voice after he’d been silent for so long. Or maybe it was just me he hadn’t been speaking to. I didn’t feel an ounce of regret; he’d pushed too far and he knew it. “Killough’s in his position for a reason. He won’t let anyone step into his territory.”

“We’re already there,” Rafael interrupted, but Arlo shook his head.

“We’re there, but not there. We only just started, and we don’t have the buyers to last the long haul if Killough decides to fuck our business up. Miami belongs to him, and if buyers catch wind of a war, they’ll scatter to the sewers.”

“Drugs are drugs to them, right?” Noa asked, glancing between Arlo and Rafael with a frown.

“Yeah, but they know who’s in charge, and right now that’s Killough in Miami.”

“So you’re saying that our business relies on our enemy’s next moves,” Noa said slowly.

“I’m surprised he hasn’t fucked anyone up yet.” Tadeo snorted and leaned back in the seat, throwing a leg over his knee.

I sighed. “Killough does everything for a reason. If he knows about Noa’s salons and Joaquin, he knows about the product we’re starting to sell. The fact he’s not making an example of anyone says he’s planning for something bigger.”

“Should we be worried about Joaquin?” Tadeo asked, concern twisting on his face. He was the softest Herrera boy, a gentle giant who could kill on orders, and unlike Rafael and Joaquin, who made sure to hide their soft spots under a layer of deadly armor, he wasn’t capable of true meanness.

I shook my head. “Not yet. We wait and build our clientele there.”

Arlo opened his mouth to say something, but the sound of gunfire had us all sprinting to the door and out into the hallway. We ran through the mansion to get to the entrance hall, and by the time we had, Manny was walking through the door without a care in the world. Through the open door behind him, one of our men was crumpled on the ground near the car, our other men pointing handguns at him.

“Manny?” I shot forward but stopped just short of him, grabbing his face in my hands and turning it from side to side, the fear of seeing him injured making acid curl in my gut. “Are you hurt?”

Manny smiled. “No.”

“What happened?” Rafael asked from close behind me.

Manny cocked his head and then glanced behind himself. When he looked back, he was still smiling, almost peacefully, though I didn’t miss the flicker of worry in his eyes, something the others would miss because they didn’t know him the way I did. “One of the assholes you employ had something to say about me being la puta del jefe, so I told him that his attitude was unacceptable. As I was walking away, he decided to aim his gun at me.”

I didn’t know whether I wanted to kiss Manny for being confident in telling him who was in charge or go and spit on Franco’s body, because I was fairly sure that was the name of the man on the ground. I decided on both and cupped his face again, kissing him hard. He moaned against my mouth, his arms encircling my shoulders to drag me closer until our bodies were flush. My skin buzzed with excitement over Manny’s actions. He wasn’t my whore, but the jefe’s future husband, and the men would just have to get used to that.

When I pulled away, he groaned in disappointment, but I patted him on the cheek before striding past him and out the door. When I reached Franco’s body, I spat on it. The men around me lowered their heads toward me in respect, and I glanced at them.

“Buen trabajo. You will be rewarded for your protection.”

Some of them nodded, others stayed perfectly still.

“It seems Franco forgot that Manny is not a stranger in this world. He’s Emmanuel Méndez-Beltrán, and he grew up with my family. In all regards he should be Emmanuel Reyes-Montero, and maybe one day he will be a Méndez-Reyes.” I stepped back and waved at the body. “Get rid of this cerdo’s body. Feed it to the sharks. I don’t care what happens to him. He doesn’t deserve much else.”

With a final nod to them, I walked back into the house. My cousins had taken Manny to the kitchen, and I stopped when I walked into the room and couldn’t help but smile at the sight. They were all sitting in chairs at the island counter, laughing and speaking in a mix of Spanish and English in a way that reminded me of old times, when we were younger and the family got together more often. We’d been so innocent to the world back then, and the only worry we had was what we wanted to eat and what games we wanted to play.

“Anyone hungry?” I asked, surprising them all into looking at me.

Even Arlo’s face had transformed from broody to happy, and it suited him. He was still my brother, and I missed that charming puto. They all spoke at once with a mixture of sí and yes, and I laughed.