Page 82 of Reno

Manos unlocked the front door and turned on the lights. Once inside, Alacrán set the bag he was carrying by the door. Manos placed his beside it and turned to face me.

Realizing the home was much darker than it was when we left, I glanced around and then looked at Manos. “Where the fuck is Primo, I need a drink?”

“He took Alfredo and Manuel to meet Luiz,” Alacrán said. “They’re picking up something that’s rightfully mine.”

My entire body went tense.

“Oh,” I said under my breath.

With my jaw clenched, I watched Alacrán like a hawk.

He set his pistol on the coffee table and took a seat at the couch. He kicked a heel on the edge of the table and rested his other across it.

Nervous as fuck about everything and beginning to wonder if the cop was still waiting, I assessed the situation. It dawned on me that we were relying on the cop to arrest Alacrán. It was to look like he was being arrested for entering the country, not for doing a drug deal. Nevertheless, if the cop happened to miss him whenever he departed, he would remain free.

I trusted cops about as much as I trusted Alacrán.

“Jew ready to load jore stuff, Amigo?” Manos asked.

I needed a minute to think. “I need to piss, and then we can get busy.”

Alacrán sat up straight. “Search him before he goes.”

I gave him a look. “Seriously? So much for trust, huh?’

He shrugged.

“This is fucking bullshit.” I raised my arms. “I’ve got two hundred bucks and a key.”

Manos searched me thoroughly and then gave Alacrán a nod. “Es bueno.”

I pushed my way past Manos and went to the bathroom. While I washed my hands, the only plan that might actually work came to me. It was risky on my part, but it was the only thing that would guarantee Carma’s safety.

I dried my hands, adjusted each of my rings, and then waltzed into the living room. When I entered, I made eye contact with Crip. I then gestured toward Manos with my eyes, twice.

He acknowledged the gesture with a nod.

I walked to the edge of the sofa, which, incidentally, was right beside the door. I looked at Crip. “Remember when you saved me in Afghanistan?”

Crip took a few steps in Manos’ direction. “Never forget it.”

Seeming unamused, Alacrán looked up.

“I was thinking of that while I was pissin’,” I said. “I was scared as fuck behind that rock until you fuckers showed up. In the end, you took out some of those fuckers, and I took out the others. It was as easy as one, two, THREE!”

I dove across the arm of the couch, toward Alacrán. As I landed on top of him, I thrust my elbow into his nose. Surprised by the spur of the moment attack, and momentarily blinded by the broken nose, he frantically reached toward the table in hope of finding his pistol.

With his arms in front of him, his face, chest, and neck were an open target. I pounded him with my fists, making every blow count. My ring-laden fingers wreaked havoc on his face, leaving him looking as if he’d been beaten with a hammer.

Only when he was semi-conscious did I take pause. Then, I slid from the edge of the couch and grabbed his gun.

I checked the weapon, determined it was loaded, and flipped off the safety. I pointed it at him. “One fucking move, Amigo, and I’ll put two of these in your head.”

I glanced over my shoulder. Crip had Manos wadded up in a chokehold.

“You good?” I asked.

He nodded. “What do you want me to do with him?”