Total pages in book: 54
Estimated words: 51825 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 259(@200wpm)___ 207(@250wpm)___ 173(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 51825 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 259(@200wpm)___ 207(@250wpm)___ 173(@300wpm)
Gabriel—One of Kane’s men who helps protect him and Lilah. His father worked for Kane for five years. Military background, recently honorably discharged. Sniper.
Enrique—One of Kane’s men who helps protect him and Lilah.
Laslo—One of Kane’s men who he has dubbed to take over the cartel when Kane can finally get rid of his uncle.
Rich Moore—blond surfer-dude looks, blue eyes. Works with Lilah. He and Lilah were sleeping together until Rich wanted more and Lilah called it off.
Greg Harrison—Lilah’s old partner from the New York Police Department. Currently in a lot of hot water with Internal Affairs over an incident that may or may not be of his own making. He was partnered with Nelson Moser prior to being put on leave by IA pending further investigation but has been working independent security with Moser in the meantime.
Roberto Mendez—Kane’s father who was supposed to be dead, murdered a few years ago. Came out of hiding when Kane killed his uncle, Miguel, and tried to pass the cartel leadership to another.
Danica “DD” Day—Thirty-something, blonde, used to be a model. Deputy Medical Examiner of Suffolk County. Worked the Wedding Duet murders with Lilah.
Chapter One
Kane
It was clearly a mistake to choose this location in Mexico that my father fondly called “the graveyard” to face off with my uncle. This warehouse is where he came to turn conflict into conclusion. And conclusion is exactly what we have.
Miguel is dead and so is my intended placeholder, Laslo.
I killed Miguel.
My “dead” father killed Laslo.
My dead father, who stands in front of me now alive and well. And while his thick, dark hair is more salt and pepper than it was when I last saw him, the lines framing his eyes a bit deeper, he’s looking fit and trim, and healthier than ever. My father was never a man who let himself go, never a man who indulged in the drugs he himself sold to others.
Apparently, the past few years were not spent six feet under.
He’s a ghost come back to life, too much like me for my own good. I dislike that about both of us to the point that I wonder if the smirk of satisfaction on his face isn’t about just that. Him wanting me to become the man who killed my uncle and buried bodies. He might be angry over my intended placement of Laslo as the face of the cartel, but he still believes he’s won. He’ll soon learn that, yes, I am the man he wanted me to be in too many ways. The man who willingly killed Miguel, but I will also not tolerate much from him. And I will kill him if he threatens what is mine.
This isn’t a happy family reunion.
There is no hugging and joy to be found for miles, certainly not from me. But on the other side of the coin, those who know how much I avoid all things my father and the cartel might think I’d be relieved at his return. Now, they would assume, he can run his own damn cartel but with him at the helm, there will be nothing but blood and bodies.
“Now what, hijo?” he asks, his weapon still in his hand, but then so is mine.
Hijo, meaning “son,” as if he has to drive home that point, but I am no son of his in any way but blood and looks. “I could kill you and no one would know any different,” I say.
He chuckles low and deep. “Now you sound like my son.” He points to the men to my right and then carries that finger around the room with a command, “Leave us.”
A few of the men obey. The rest hold positions on either side of me. Enrique, loyal soldier that he is, of course, one of those men. In response to this division of men, my father’s eyes light with something I can only call conquest. “They didn’t all line up with you, son. That’s a problem. That’s every problem you own right now. You should already own them by now. Not one of them should be loyal to me.”
He’s every problem for me right now, and most of my life, even when he was supposed to be dead. “They’re not loyal to you,” I say. “They’re afraid of you.”
“Why aren’t they afraid of you?”
I ignore him and focus on the men. I lift a hand. “Dehanos,” I order the masses in Spanish, which means “Leave us,” and then in English, “All of you.”
Every last one of the men obeys my command but Enrique, who hesitates but not out of disobedience. “Kane?” he asks.
I give him a nod, and while his jaw clenches with obvious disapproval, he does as I’ve commanded. As soon as I’m alone with my father, I step closer to him, “The lambs never run to the wolf. Those who are afraid of me for the wrong reasons went to you, and then ran away when given the opportunity.”