Page 80 of Jagger's Remorse
I almost don't answer.
Then think fuck it.
What's one more problem?
"Yeah?" I answer.
"Señor Morales?" The voice is cultured, calm. Dangerous.
"Who's asking?" I respond cautiously.
"My name is Mateo. I represent Eduardo Vasquez. I believe you know his goddaughter?" the man says.
My blood chills.
"What about her?" I ask.
"He would like to speak with her. And you. Tomorrow. Noon. I'll send coordinates," Mateo informs me.
"And if we're busy?" I test.
"Then he'll be... disappointed. And Señor Vasquez's disappointment tends to be fatal," he warns.
The line goes dead.
I stare at the phone.
Tomorrow.
Eduardo fucking Vasquez wants a meeting.
The plaza boss.
The man whose nephew I killed.
Whose goddaughter I've been fucking.
Whose man just died on my watch.
"Fuck," I mutter. "Fuck!"
Poncho sticks his head in. "Problem?"
"Yeah. Remember when I said we bought time?" I ask him.
"Yeah?" he responds.
"I was wrong. We've got less than twenty-four hours before the real boss shows up," I inform him.
"The cartel?" Poncho asks.
"Eduardo Vasquez himself," I confirm.
Poncho goes pale.
Well, paler.
"We're fucked," he states.
