Page 104 of Cartel King

“Mexican slang?”

“Yeah, Alejandro. I don’t know if he pretended not to understand Spanish, but he didn’t respond beyond swearing at me. Ellie questioned him in Italian, but she never got to ask anything significant. The second car arrived, and the men immediately opened fire on us. Ellie neutralized them. I’ve got cars three and four swerving in front of me, and she took out car five already.”

“Enrique, swing around. Get the driver’s side closer to them, then stop.”

“No, Ellie. We need to go.”

“Do it, Enrique. Trust me.” She’s winding down the back driver’s side window as Constantine shifts to the far back of the car.

“Tío, you need to get out of there. Go to Papa’s.”

Pablo’s insistent, and my logic says to listen, but my gut tells me to do what Ellie said. I twist the wheel hard to the right, and the tail end swings around. I angled us, so she has a clear shot. As soon as I slow, car doors open, and four men pour out of each car. I watch as Ellie takes out the two on each far side with her rifle. Then she fires her shotgun. She releases the empty shells as the pellets zoom through the air. The greater the distance, the wider they spray. She shoots a second time and fells all four men between the two vehicles.

“Go!”

I don’t need her to tell me to drive. We’re already on the move.

Chapter Twenty

Ellie

Things you didn’t imagine happening tonight for five hundred.

If only this were as simple as aJeopardycategory—even a challenging one. But it’s not. I felt uneasy while leaving my house, but I’m petrified now. I’m used to working alone. I have Enrique’s life to consider, too. I just took a monumental risk. I opened him up to take fire, but I needed to get close enough to shoot them. I knew the buckshot would spray pellets at them, so I had a greater chance of hitting them if they ran toward us.

“Tío! What’s happening?!” There’s fear in Pablo’s voice that I’m certain none of them are used to.

“Ellie got rid of that threat.”

“Not all of it. Enrique, there’s another car behind us. It looks like Matías. What do you want me to do?”

“Papa?”

Fuck. Poor Alejandro. The last thing I want to do is kill the young man’s father. But if it’s between Enrique and Matías, then Matías’s gotta go.

“Nothing yet,chiquita. If he gets too close, disable the car.” It’s unlike him to let something slip, but I don’t think he realizes what he called me before the word left his mouth.

“Sí, papí.” I speak barely above a whisper, so I don’t think it carried to the call.

“What are you talking about? What’s Papa doing?”

Alejandro’s understandably upset, and I feel horrible for him. I sense Enrique’s hesitation as he speeds up, putting more distance between Matías and us. But the man doesn’t relent. His car races after us, and that’s made easier once we’re back on the street with no ruts to contend with.

“Your father lied about who was in the car at Ellie’s and chased us, trying to box us in between him and men we don’t recognize.”

I know Enrique hates explaining this to Alejandro.

“Tío, you have to be mistaken. There has to be a reason. Maybe he’s trying to help you.”

“Alejandro, my phone works just fine because I’m on it right now. If he was trying to help me, why hasn’t he called?”

“Why haven’t you called him?Mierda.I’m sorry.” Shit.

The moment the words leave Enrique’s nephew’s mouth, he regrets them and wishes he could swallow them back. But I can’t blame him. I’d have the same reaction if I were in the young man’s position. Enrique lets it go. I know, had it been anybody outside his immediate family, there’d be consequences for that slip.

“Right now, Alejandro, I’m a little busy trying to keep Ellie and me alive. Considering multiple people have shot at us from multiple directions and nearly run us off the road, I haven’t had a chance to make too many phone calls.”

“Where’s Papa now?”

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