Marcos had me meet him at an old train depot by a park at eight o’clock that night. The fact that it was dark caused my anxiety to go from tap dancing to doing backflips. I spotted his car parkedin a shadowed corner, windows tinted darker than the law should allow, engine idling. I pulled up beside him and got out.
The minute I opened the passenger door he lifted a finger to his lips.
“Hold up,” he mouthed.
I froze, hand still on the door frame.
The speaker crackled, and a deep, smooth, andridiculouslysexy voice filled the car. That
“Two hours late?” the guy on the other end questioned angrily. “Do you know how much that cost us, Marcos?”
His tone was unraveling something in me, even though I had yet to lay eyes on him. He had the kind of voice that made a person straighten their back without thinking… and made a woman wonder what else he could make her do with just a sound.
Marcos smirked, lounging back in a way that suggested he was talking to his older brother, and not a man who sounded like he buried people on Tuesdays.
“Relax, Dom. I already talked to him.”
Dom?
“That’s not what I’m asking,” Dom replied, his tone sharpening. “Talking is what got us here. He needs to understand what kind of operation this is. A late drop is worse than no drop! People start thinking we’re careless! I don’t like that shit!”
Marcos adjusted in his seat. His left arm draped lazily over the steering wheel as he surveyed the night.
“So what you want me to do? You want me to talk some more… or you want me to send a message? We just brought that new corner boy in. He’s young, but he listens. I can have him ride past, tighten things up a little.” He paused, then added with a low chuckle, “’Cause look, I’ll talk to a nigga all day, but I ain’t no killer. I recruit ‘em; I don’t reduce the headcount.”
A tense pause lingered in the air before Dom’s voice lowered, each word heavier with danger. “Then use what’s available to you. I don’t care who does it; I care that it gets done. Nothing that removes him from rotation, but enough so that every time he picks up a package, his hands shake.”
Marcos didn’t flinch at the order. His unwavering calm was almost impressive.
“Say less. I’ll have Reek handle it. He’s been looking for a reason to prove himself anyway.”
“Good,” Dom replied, voice low and precise. “Then let him earn his place.”
The line fell silent, and I could almost sense the thoughts churning in Dom’s mind before he added, “You got that new girl lined up for tomorrow?”
Marcos’s gaze flicked toward me, and though his lips didn’t twitch, I felt the energy shift.
“Yup.”
“I’m hearing good things about her but let her know that shecannotafford to fuck up this next run… and I don’t mean the money side of it; I mean withme.She screws this up, and she’s done… no second chances. At the same time, let her know that risk comes with reward. If she delivers, she won’t have to worry about me, but if she doesn’t…”
He let the silence hang just long enough for me to imagine every possible outcome.
“I’ll be the last face she sees. And trust me, she won’t see me long. Hell, she won’t even have time to be surprised. Makesureyou relay that message.”
I shivered, not from fear exactly, but from the way he said it.
Like he meant it… like he’d sleep fine afterward.
Marcos’s jaw flexed, but there was no argument in his tone. “I’ll tell her.”
“Good. Keep her sharp. We’ll talk after.”
The call ended with a beep that felt louder than it should have.
Something about the way Marcos spoke—his tone woven with a blend of respect and familiarity—immediately revealed the identity of the person on the other end, even without a name being mentioned.
Marcos slid his phone into the console and gestured toward the passenger seat. “Get in,” he instructed firmly yet casually.