Page 15 of Cartel King

“What’s so different about the O’Rourkes?” Pablo’s the scientist in the family. He majored in chem and minored in bio.

“They’re adding phenacetin.”

“Where the fuck are they getting that? It’s been off the market since the seventies when they discovered it’s a carcinogen.”

It’s a local painkiller in the same family as acetaminophen—Tylenol—but with side effects like cancer.

Luis looks at his son and shrugs. “I don’t know where they get it. I didn’t have time to find out. They haven’t been using it long enough for it to have done any harm yet. But it’s making their product stretch further since they’re cutting it with that. It’s addictive, but not as powerful as cleaner formulas. It’s got the inmates begging for more, which made Miguel a lot of money, which led to him running his fat mouth. He got really talkative when I put hishuevosin kitchen tongs and held a torch to the metal.”

That’s not a new tactic, but we all shift in our seats. No guy wants to think of that happening to their nuts.

“How is that cost efficient for them? If they’re using something that’s not readily available, they’re spending money to get it or to make it. That doesn’t make sense.” Jorge isn’t tight-fisted, but he’ll take his last penny to the grave if he can.

“¿Mi amor?” The meeting ends when Margherita’s voice floats down to us.

“Si preciosa.” Yes, gorgeous.

My brother’s been calling his wife that since the day they met. Luis was dumbstruck when he saw her for the first time. It was two weeks before their wedding. Margherita’s father forced my hand, and I arranged the marriage. It was an alliance with her family or lose my hold on Colombia. I needed their backing against my uncle, whom I’d just had extradited from the U.S. back to Colombia. Her father refused me since I wasjefe, and he didn’t want his daughter to be a young widow. I clearly lived and have beenjefefor more than thirty years. But it worked out because they fell in love during the first year they were married. If she and I married, I’d be the one going to check on her. I wouldn’t be looking forward to a walk with Ellie.

I noticed the same car parked two houses down from Ellie just before I met her. It’s there now that I’m back in town. The owner never parks in a garage or driveway, which is weird for this neighborhood. I’ve spotted it in the morning a few times, so I thought it might be a household employee. But then I saw it still parked there yesterday evening, and it’s there now.

I haven’t seen anyone in it, so I have no faces to make me suspicious. But I’ve survived this long because I’m wary by nature, and I trust next to no one and nothing. It’s why Ellie is such a surprise. There’s an openness between us most of the time that’s refreshing. When she gets evasive, it’s to protect her family. Even though we’re spending more time together, she’s cautious not to give a man she doesn’t know well too many details, especially since it was easy to realize she lives alone.

I glance over my shoulder as I jog toward her house. She’s just closing the garage door as I reach her driveway. She’s got tight workout shorts on, which isn’t what she’s worn in the past. They’ve always been looser, not clingy. Rather than a tank top, she has an over-sized t-shirt on. It covers her ass, but it also covers her tits. I’m not thrilled about either of those.

“Hola, chiquita.” Hello, little girl.

Where the hell did that come from?

I haven’t used an endearment for a woman since I divorced the woman I was eventually forced to marry. The few endearments I used were as forced as my wedding vows. This slipped out, but I mean it.

Her smile improves my day. The meeting at Luis’s wasn’t that bad, but my day went to shit afterward. The bratva’s running most of the docks these days, and they’re strong-arming me for more protection money against customs inspections. Alejandro and Pablo came over to my place so we could strategize. I wound up in an argument with them. They’re intelligent and experienced, but sometimes they forget my memory is longer than theirs. Their suggestion was a short-term solution to what could become a much longer-term problem.

“Hola.”

She’s definitely not a Spanish speaker, but her bubbly response is cute. The way she greets me with that smile feels like I’m coming home from a hard day of work to a warm welcome. Except we’re standing on the street, and we don’t share a home.

I want nothing more than to wrap my arms around her and taste her. I want to know how it would feel to press my dick against her cunt. I want to know how her tits would feel in my hands. I want to squeeze her ass and grind her on my thigh. I want her ass against my cock like I did at the lake the first time we went rowing together.

I’ve had these thoughts since we met. I jacked off to them while I was away. I’ve been doing that more often than I have since I was fourteen. I wonder if she thinks the same things about me. Could I be on her mind if she gets herself off?

“How was your day?” I need to get my mind out of the gutter.

“It went well. I’m ready to stretch my legs though. Way too long at the computer.”

She tilts her head in one direction, then the other. I hear the cracks, and it tempts me to carry her inside, strip her, and give her a massage.

I’m in my fifties, and my dick doesn’t lead me anywhere. I’ve never let it. I’ve been with enough women over the years to prove I’m no monk. But I master my libido; it doesn’t master me.

Until now.

Fucking hell.

I’ve kept my dirty thoughts to a minimum when I’m with Ellie, so she never thinks I’m a stalker perv. But my mind’s in overdrive this evening. Maybe it’s because she’s more covered up than usual. It’s not like she’s ever scantily clad, but my imagination’s working overtime, picturing what I know is under that damn t-shirt.

“How about you?” She looks over at me as she rolls her shoulders back.

“Long day too. But the worst is over.”

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