“You can’t be here, man,” he shouts. “You weren’t invited.”
“I have an open invite, ese. Might want to check that with your employer.” Beyond the four men, on the inside of the compound in front of Julio’s Spanish style villa, numerous cars are parked in rows. Mercedes Benz. Maserati. Bugatti. Lamborghini. There must be at least eight million dollars lined up in front of the house, shiny and colorful in the early morning sunlight. The tall guy makes a tsking sound with his tongue, waving the muzzle of his assault rifle in front of us.
“Ain’t nobody getting in here today that ain’t on the list. Julio said so. No exceptions.”
I lean against the gate, propping myself up with one elbow. The smile on my face is disingenuous to say the least. “Why don’t you go see if I’m an exception, asshole? I’ll wait right here.”
“You’re gonna be waiting a long time, motherfucker. Maybe I should just shoot you right now before Mr. Perez comes out here and does it himself.”
“Julio hasn’t shot anyone in nearly ten years,” I say. “And even if he tried, the fat fuck would probably miss. Now be a good little boy and run along, tell him he has visitors. Visitors that don’t appreciate being left hanging on the doorstep.”
The tall guy lowers his rifle, looking at me and then at Sophia like we have three heads apiece. “Did you not hear me, shit eater?” he snaps. “Get the fuck out of here right now, or these guys will shoot you.”
Next to him, his three friends all look at each other, shaking their heads. “We ain’t shooting Rebel, man. No fucking way. He’s protected.”
This is news to me. I’m protected? Man, Julio really doesn’t want those files I have sitting on a hard drive back in Freemantle falling into the wrong hands. He knows the club voted for me to release the information we discovered about his operation to the cops. He knows, without me around to talk some sense into the club, the details I have stored on him in my office would become public knowledge very quickly.
“Alright. One of you go and get the boss, then. Fuck!”
The three other guys look at each other like they don’t know what they’re supposed to do. Tall Guy jabs the closest of them with the muzzle of his gun and hisses at him, baring his teeth. “?Ir a buscar al jefe, idiota!”
The other guard hurries off with a murderous expression on his face, his hands gripped tightly around his weapon. Sophia inches a little closer to me, hands by her sides, though I can tell by the way her fingers twitch that she wants to take my hand. She won’t, though. She knows better. Doing so will make us both look weak. She straightens her back instead, her gaze traveling from one man to the next, unfazed by the lecherous, openly lewd looks they give her while they wait for their comrade to return with Julio. I’m so fucking proud of her. There was a time when she would have shrunk away from men like this. They would have reminded her of Raphael, and the memories of him trying to assault her would have had her cowering on the ground. These days, she’s strong. Stronger than I sometimes give her credit for.
The guard returns less than two minutes later, sporting a split lip, fury in his eyes. He speaks in hushed tones to the other men, stabbing a finger in our direction, and then he spits on the floor at the tall guy’s feet. The tall guy threatens to hit him, but then he turns and faces us instead. “Julio says you’re okay, man, but you gotta sit by the pool and wait for him to finish his business. We’ll shoot your ass if you wander anywhere else in the house.”
“Fine by me. I could use some time to work on my tan.” I grin at the dude, flashing my teeth. Waiting for Julio by the pool is no problem, but I am curious as to what kind of business he’s conducting here at the moment. There are clearly a lot of rich people here judging by the cars. I doubt they’re all here to buy and sell drugs. Drug dealers drive beaten up Fords when they’re carrying. At least the smart ones do. And no way Julio would conduct that kind of business out of his home, either. That shit goes down out in the middle of the desert, at night, when you can see a car coming for fifty miles in any direction.