Page 127 of Shifting Hearts 1
Not to mention the peculiarity of my unique skills that she kept from me all those years.
I push through the door into the dimly lit area filled with smoke and the smell of stale sex and cigarettes. There is a lit stage in front with a woman dangling from a pole in a flimsy getup. Tables and chairs are placed throughout the room, where random men receive lap dances and drink excessively.
This place epitomizes everything I dislike about El Paso. From the cheap liquor behind the bar to the depraved souls vying for the attention of the desperate woman.
My eyes adjust rapidly to the room, and I watch intently as my uncle is escorted to one of the rooms at the back. I turn to the men and gesture at three of them to follow me.
The rest know what to do. My men will spread out and assess the situation inside the club to look for potential threats before stationing themselves within reach of the room we are in, guarding the exits.
I have trained them well.
Some might feel the need to relax and indulge in the girls who will come sit on their laps to garner some favor with the cartel.
I follow the corridor until I reach the open door where my uncle is making himself comfortable on a red velvet couch.
The tacky décor leaves much to be desired.
Peering inside, I see the room has a little more lighting than the inside of the seedy club, with a polished pole in the middle and another few random seats scattered around.
A dinged coffee table is set before the couch, and it is already lined with a few shot glasses.
I instead point to the opposite side of the room, and my men move to stand against the wall, ready for anything.
My uncle gestures to one of the seats opposite him, but I would rather sit in a dumpster than take that chance.
It is such a shame that these women have to work in such conditions.
However, I can’t show any concern because that would contradict the image I have cultivated over many years.
My mother might have taught me to respect women, but my father made sure to beat it out of me any chance he got. Exhibit A: My intimidating scar.
He once told me that my mother wasn’t the saint she pretended to be because she had arranged a marriage match for me.
I wonder if that wasn’t her way of looking out for me after she was gone.
My father, of course, slapped me on the back and told me he had taken care of it, so there was no need for me to worry. Still, I do sometimes yearn for a simpler life. But I would miss the killing too much.
The owner of the club, with his greasy comb-over and shiny shirt buttons straining for release, apologizes vehemently for the girls being late, but I know that doesn’t bother my uncle.
Uncle Angelo might be a lieutenant in the cartel, but he has never treated anyone with disrespect, unlike the rest of the family, who thrive on chaos, sometimes demanding respect with a bullet to the brain.
I subtly reach for my gun when a pompous little man bursts in the door and announces himself loudly. “Who’d have thought we’d see the day that Angelo Rivera came to see me, the great Don Alvarez, on my side of the border. It’s truly an auspicious day.”
He strolls in and wraps my uncle, who has gotten up from his seat, in a hug before he kisses both cheeks. I will take delight in private about the look of disdain on my uncle’s face.
“Is that what I’m supposed to call you now? Don Alvarez?” my uncle replies with a slight smile on his face.
The little man waves his men off, taking a step forward. “Of course not, Angelo. You can call me Don.”
Incredulity sweeps over my uncle’s face, informing me that this is not at all what he expected. The man before him might have been his friend at some stage, but not anymore.
The sleezy club owner’s shoulders sag in relief when three girls enter the room. The first is practically naked with two pasties on her nipples and a gold G-string that barely covers anything.
The second has a bright pink lingerie set on that has undoubtedly seen some better days.
But it is the third woman who captures my attention. She has strawberry-blond hair, which frames her face with minimal makeup. Her athletic build fills the black one-piece with curves, the thin straps barely containing her breasts.
She looks out of place when she steps into the room hesitantly but quickly follows the other two’s lead when they start dancing seductively to the low, sultry music filling the room.
