Ramirez stares Jamie down, not breathing, not blinking, not shifting an inch. The two of them stand their ground until Ramirez turns away, fishing more almonds out of his pocket. “That’s a pity. He’s my favorite employee, you know. I’d be really fucking upset if I found out something had happened to him. God only knows what I would do.” He tosses an almond into his mouth and then washes it down with some coffee.
His threat isn’t even a veiled one. He knows perfectly well that Raphael is dead and that the Widow Makers are responsible. And now he’s going to punish us by taking it out on Alan, demanding we hand over Sophia, otherwise there’ll be hell to pay. It’s what we expected at the end of the day. I step forward, placing myself between Jamie and Ramirez—it’s only a matter of time before Jamie’s temper gets the better of him and he goes for Hector. There’s only one reason he would ever do something so reckless, and that’s if Sophia is in danger. Right now, Ramirez’s attentions towards Jamie’s girlfriend certainly constitute danger. Jamie will tear his throat out on the street in front of countless witnesses and risk going to prison if it means keeping her safe.
Ramirez smirks, bowing his head. “We men are alike, you know?” he says softly.
“And how the fuck did you come to that conclusion?” I crane my neck, staring down at him. I’ve never considered myself overly tall—I’m 5’11’’, pretty average for a guy—but I tower over Ramirez. The guy is pretty short; maybe that’s why he decided he needed to get into the organized crime business—to obtain the power that his physique couldn’t command through fear. If that’s the case, then he’s doing a pretty damn good job of it. Lesser men would be cowed by him. They’d think twice about fucking with his business or his employees. Rebel and I are probably the only men to have stood up to him in a really long time, which from the look on his face is very entertaining to him. His smile grows even broader.
“We are focused individuals,” he says. “And we’re unfamiliar with not getting our own way. It gives us a certain determination that other men lack.”
Behind me, Jamie makes a really unhappy sound. “You’re right,” he says. “We’re not used to being told no. We’re also really fucking patient. We’ve been waiting for the past six months, Ramirez. That doesn’t mean that we’ll wait forever now, though. Don’t be fooled. If you think we’re just going to sit by and let you torture an old man to get what you want, you’d be mistaken.”
Ramirez raises one eyebrow. “Torture? I don’t have a fucking clue what you’re talking about, Jamie. I don’t torture people. Like you, I’m a simple businessman. I moved to New Mexico as a tax break. Nothing more. And Alan…why would I even want to harm a man like Alan? He’s a good, god-fearing man. In fact, I think his presence in my household has been very grounding so far. I’d hate to see him go.”
This is all an act, purely for Lowell’s benefit. It’s unlikely Hector would openly admit to kidnapping Sophia’s father, but fuck. This whole sugar-wouldn’t-melt bit is sickening. We need to get out of here before Jamie goes postal and tries to knock the guy’s head clean off.
I give Ramirez one last dark, warning look and then I turn around to face my friend. He looks like his blood is boiling in his veins. “Come on, man. Time we got out of here. Doesn’t look like we’re going to accomplish anything.”
His eyes look like chips of ice—cold and pale. They’re filled with violence. “There’s no reasoning with the unreasonable,” he says quietly, almost under his breath. He’s not talking to me, or even to Hector. He’s retreated inside his own head, and he’s making plans. Dangerous, awful, bloody and undoubtedly illegal plans. My favorite kind.
It’s about fucking time. The confrontation I can see brewing in Jamie’s mind is long past overdue. It should have happened the moment Hector showed up in town and rented that fucking farmhouse. I jerk my head in the direction of the Humvee, and Jamie walks away, his eyes still vacant, his hands clenched into fists by his sides.
Turning our backs on a man who wants us both dead is a very bad idea, but he needs to know we won’t be intimidated. We will spill his blood. For Ryan, Jamie’s uncle. For Leah, the woman Ramirez had killed back in Ebony Briar. And now for Sophia’s father. There’s no two ways about it: the man is going to die, and he’s going to do it horrifically. Because when Jamie gets that look in his eyes, there is no alternative. There’s only pain and horror. There’s only begging and pleading. There’s only death.
“I’ll see you soon, gentlemen,” Hector calls after us. “I’m sure of it. In fact, tell that little whore of yours that she has one week. One week to pack up her things and show up on my doorstep. Any longer than that, and I fear Alan might need to go.”
Jamie twitches. That’s all he allows himself as we head back to the car. He twitches, and Hector Ramirez laughs.
CHAPTER SEVEN
SOPHIA