“I need more time,” he blurts desperately. “Porfavor, Jefa, te lo juro. Just give me a little bit more time, and I’ll have it all for you.”
“Sorry, Enrique.” My head swings side to side solemnly. “It’s too little too late for an extension, so here’s how this is going to go. You said he’s got money stashed away, right?”
He nods.
“Fantastic. Go find it, take what you need, and voila…problem solved.”
“Estas loca?” He shoots to the edge of the couch in alarm. “He’ll kill me!”
“No, he won’t.” My gaze snaps to the phone for the briefest moment, then out the window to my far left where Ángel’s waiting. “You tell him it was for la Jefa, and if he has a problem with it, he’s welcome to come see me.”
“But—”
“But nothing, socio.” I meet his awaiting stare. “That’s my money you’re playing with, and I don’t like it. I have bills to pay, too, y no tengo tiempo a estar sentada aquí el día entero.” I don’t have time to be sitting here all day. “Maybe this will get you moving…” Leaning forward, I snatch up my phone and open up the timer, punching in three minutes. My thumb hovers over the start button. “Tienes tres minutos, and you know they go by quickly, so you better hustle. Aaand go.”
Within the first ten seconds, Enrique still sits before me, his mouth popped open, brown eyes drifting back and forth between me and the hallway.
“Muévelo, Enrique.” I flip the phone around to provide him a view of the screen, my fingers strategically placed over the active call symbol. “Time is ticking.”
He must’ve thought I was joking about the timer because that gets him moving, shuffling through his home with rushed, heavy steps. I’m listening in great amusement as he speeds from room to room when my phone buzzes.
Papi: My dick is hard af listening to you right now…
Eyes rolling playfully, the very corners of my lips quiver. “Two minutes!” I yell to Enrique, pulling Ángel’s message down for a quick reply.
Me: I’ll take care of it once I’m done here.
‘Cause I will. I’ll slobber all over that shit while he drives me to my car. His tints are dark enough. My thighs clench just thinking about it.
Papi: That right there is exactly why I want you, mami. No hay nadie como tu.
There’s no one like you.
My heart threatens to explode as I read and reread the last part of that message, barely holding back another infatuated smile. I don’t reply this time, though, swiping the message prompt away as I turn to the hallway. He’s breaking my focus. “Closing in on one minute, Martinez!”
“Fuck!” he growls, the loudest, heaviest bang meeting my ears.
Considering what I know, I assume it’s a safe. Probably where roommate dude kept his money. Still, I reach forward and grab my handgun, flipping off the safety. You can’t ever be too cautious. Martinez may seem harmless, but you just never know. Pressing situations force us to react differently than normal.
The clanking and banging continue along with Enrique’s strained groans, confirming it's definitely a safe, and he’s working like hell to get that shit open. I almost feel bad that he’s down to the wire.
Almost.
“Ten seconds,” I warn.
“Coño!” Louder still the banging erupts, a frantic beating that clearly matches the tempo of his heart.
It shouldn’t be so satisfying, but it is, nonetheless. A part of me has always thrived on their fear, how they react to me, the undying power they don’t seem to realize they give me when they all but bow at my feet. I won’t kill him; that’s not my style. I will, however, leave him regretting every last one of his decisions.
And I won’t bat a single lash while I’m at it.
“Seven… Six… Five…” I cock back the slide, blood rushing at the echoing, telltale click. “Four… Three…”
Hulking footsteps resound then, and right as the timer’s alarm blares, Enrique comes skidding to a stop before me, throwing a wad of cash into my lap. “There,” he pants, cheeks reddened, his entire body drenched in sweat. “Cinco mil exatamente.” Five thousand exactly.
From the looks of it, I don’t doubt the amount is what he claims, but you won’t catch me getting up from this chair until I can confirm that. Tucking the 9mm against the small of my back, I organize the bills in the palm of my hand and begin counting silently. Martinez is no less relieved, shifting on his feet restlessly as he wipes his face with his tank top.
It’s not until I fold the stack in half and rise from my seat with a satisfied smile that his shoulders fall lax. “Looks like you’re off the hook, Martinez. You can thank your roommate for having this saved up.”
“Si, hasta que me mata,” he retorts, drawing out my smile further.
“He’s not going to kill you, Enrique. Not if you pass along my message.” I’d pat his shoulder, but you know, sweaty ass motherfucker and all of that. I’ll pass, and I do, showing myself out the way we came. I’m crossing the threshold into the hallway when I stop short and offer him my parting words. “Oh, and, I should mention… The next time you ask me for an advance and don’t follow through on your end of the deal, you won’t be so lucky. Arcángel will know, and those who show up at your door will be far scarier than me, te lo prometo.”
Enrique gulps at the warning of my promise. He knows exactly who I’m talking about: the Yakuza. They don’t fuck around. They couldn’t give three fucks who you are, and they take absolutely no prisoners.
And with that, I leave the man shaking in his living room, strolling right out the front door like I didn’t just hold him up and wordlessly threaten his life for unpaid dues. Down the steps and around his white van, I slide into the Renovatio with ease, Ángel’s megawatt smile greeting me the moment I turn to look at him.
My pussy clenches, especially when I notice the way he’s grabbing his dick over his black jeans. He’s disgustingly good-looking.
It should be illegal.
“What?” I ask candidly, fucking giggling like a damn schoolgirl when he leans closer for a kiss.
“That was hotter than the first time, especially since I could hear it.”
The first time—such a fond memory. That’s how I started working for him—how we met. What started out as a random, unexpected conversation at a bar in Bayside turned into him unknowingly driving me to collect. I didn’t tell him this, obviously, didn’t know what he did at the time. I told him I needed a ride to a friend’s who owed me from our last night out, and he agreed without question. When I got back in the car with 7 G’s and a pocket pistol in hand, urging him to drive off, his expression darkened in all the best ways possible, and the rest is history.
“You’re dumb.” I peck his lips. “Another day, another dollar, baby. A girl has to do what a girl has to do.”
“That’s what makes it sexy as fuck,” he purrs. “I could listen to you do this all day.”