Ant is somehow even bloodier than he was after New Orleans. There is literally not a blood-free spot on his body.
“Is any of this blood yours?” I ask, reaching for him, unable to decide where to put my hands.
“I mean, a little,” he says, shrugging. Then grimacing. “I got winged by a bullet and then had a couple of holes punched in me,” he says, gesturing to the guy with the knife sticking out of his eye, “but otherwise, I’m good.”
“Please tell me you’re on PrEP,” I beg, wishing I could pull him into a hug.
“Of course. Anders insisted.”
“Did you get everyone?” Javier asks, sweeping the place. “Did you really leave no one for us?”
“They didn’t check me for weapons, and the driver didn’t even try to tie me up. Surely they deserved to die for that level of disrespect.”
Javier gives a dry laugh. “So,” he says, shaking his head. “This is what they made you.”
Ant wrinkles his brow. “No. This is what I made me, with a little help from my friends. And no, I didn’t get everyone. My grandfather is still alive.” He points to a bedroom window.
“Do you wanna go in on him?” I ask, checking my weapons.
Ant shakes his head. “I’d really appreciate it if you could take care of him for me.”
“Just know that if you weren’t drenched in the blood of your enemies, I would kiss you so hard right now,” I say, standing over him.
“And why is that?” he asks, holding his bloodied hand to his bloodied ear.
I let out a patient sigh. “Fine. You’ve worn me down with your horrific charms. I would kiss you because, despite my best intentions and better judgment, I appear to have fallen in love with you.”
“Yes,” Javier says, pumping his fist. “Five dollars, right in my pocket.”
Rolling my eyes, I blow my beloved a kiss, which he catches and presses to his bloodied cheek. Who says romance is dead?
Javier interrupts our love fest with logistics. “Ant, would you mind if I accompanied Erik to visit your grandfather?”
“Not at all. Have at him,” Ant says, looking down at himself. “I need to rinse off. And maybe see if I need any of that clotting powder.”
“Do I need to worry about you bleeding out?” I ask, reaching into my bag, handing him my emergency kit. “This has both clotting powder and an auto-injector syringe full of Anders’ serum. Has he cleared you to take it?”
Ant nods, taking the kit from me with a wink.
“Then use the syringe.” I check my gun and point to a water hose behind some dead bushes. “You should rinse off first.”
He sends me a bloody salute while Javier and I make our way over to the living quarters. Everything is set up around the courtyard with doors to the outside and large picture windows for residents to take in the once-beautiful view. I imagine what it must’ve been like for Ant to live here. As lovely as I believe this place once was, he’s mentioned having frequently been lonely. It’s sad, really. With a little cleanup, this could be a wonderful place for a family.
We make our way up the stairs to the large room Ant pointed out. I’m surprised to find the door unlocked and Ant’s grandfather sitting quietly on the bed.
“My grandson kills the entire squad sent to watch me yet doesn’t bother to kill me himself. I always knew he was a coward.”
I lunge forward, but Javier holds me back.
His words in Spanish are crisp. Clear. Easy to understand.
“A man who sells his grandson to settle his debts is in no position to call anyone a coward.”
I glance over at Javier. “To settle his debts? I thought the story was he was simply not man enough to love a gay grandchild.”
Javier checks out the place and shakes his head. “I’ve been doing this long enough. I should’ve seen the signs earlier. If he simply hated his gay grandson, he would’ve dropped him off at my mother’s house. No. He and his son were always into shady dealings. It always got his son into trouble, but if the son is in prison and can’t pay, they will go after the family.”
I look out onto the courtyard as Ant hoses himself off, laughing at the pool of diluted blood surrounding him.
“So it wasn’t just that you and your son were bribing local politicians. You were getting in bed with the goddamn syndicate.”
“I never had anything to do with those men,” the grandfather says, spitting on the floor.
“Yet when they came after you, you gave up your grandson.”
“How else was I supposed to get the money they wanted? They gave me two days to come up with thousands of dollars. I would’ve had to sell this place, which has been in my family for generations.”
“So you sold an innocent little boy to child sex traffickers instead,” I growl.
He wrinkles his brow. “No. I was told he would be adopted by a rich family.”
Javier snorts. “Surely you did not believe that lie. You were simply fooling yourself so you could sleep at night.”
The grandfather looks at us, and for the first time, I see uncertainty. “Did that really happen to Antonio?”
Baring his teeth, Javier does not hold back. “Yes, and as a result, he is now a perfect killing machine. That small man you would dare call a coward will be the reason the entire syndicate crumbles. He didn’t bother killing you because he’s moved on from you. I, however, spent ten years of my life looking for him, searching in the most awful places known to man, allowing my body to be used in the most awful ways so I could save him. Unlike my nephew, I can hold a grudge.”
The grandfather opens his mouth to say something, but Javier cuts him off. “Yet I was not the one who pulled Ant out of that life. This man,” he says, gesturing to me, “helped save him, then cared for him, and finally, loved him. This man will never harm a hair on my nephew’s head and, more importantly, he has done and will do anything to keep him safe. That makes him ten times the man you are.”
The grandfather curls his lip in disgust and says a word I know is a slur for gay in Spanish. Given the circumstances, it’s almost funny.
“You have no right to judge me,” the old man starts. Javier and I exchange a look so quick you’d barely know it had occurred. “You have no idea—”
I interrupt what no doubt would have been a lengthy rant, filled with inaccuracies, self-delusion, and excuses, by running Abuela’s watermelon knife through his larynx and carotid. It’s a good move if you want to shut someone up and kill them simultaneously. Ant taught me that.
Javier went the more direct route, however, pushing his mother’s carving knife into the shallow husk of whatever was left of that man’s heart.
We remove Abuela’s knives and roll him up in the bedding, letting the mattress soak up the rest of his blood. As we turn to leave, we both pause when we hear a sound from the bathroom. Javier and I put our knives away and grab our guns, approaching the bathroom door quietly.
Javier gives me the signal, and I rear back, kicking the door open. A young woman pulls a kid behind her back, holding up her hands, begging us in Spanish not to kill her or her daughter.
Fuck.
“We are not going to hurt you or your daughter, ma’am,” I say, putting away my weapon. Javier is not so quick to put away the gun, but he does lower it.
“What is your relationship to that man in there?”
“He is my husband.”
Ant’s grandfather was pushing seventy, and this woman is only a few years older than Ant.
“How long have you been together?”
“Eight years. We met in Puerto Vallarta, and we stayed in his house there. But several weeks ago, armed men came into our house and told us we had to go with them.”
“Have you ever been to this house?”
She shakes her head. “He never said anything about it.”
“Did they say why they brought you all here?”
She shakes her head. “Not at first, but I could tell my husband knew what was going on. Finally, I got it out of him.”
“What did he say?” I ask as gently as possible.
“They said his grandson had destroyed their properties, various accounts were starting to disappear, and important clients were going missing.”
“And they blamed him?”
“No, but they were going to make him pay anyway. He offered them this compound, but they laughed. Said it was worthless.”
“What did they want from him? Cash?”
She shakes her head. “I think they wanted my daughter. They said she was the perfect age.”
“And what did he do?”
“He begged them not to do anything to her. He said he knew where Ant’s family lived, that he could get Ant back for them.”
Rage travels from the top of my head straight down my body. “They didn’t even know Ant was alive until recently. Once again, he was willing to trade his grandson to get out of trouble with this syndicate,” I say, utterly disgusted.
“I told him not to do it,” she says, her voice wobbling. “I told him there had to be a better way, but…he said he didn’t care because his grandson wasn’t worth protecting.”
“Did he say why his grandson wasn’t worth protecting?”
She nods. “I love my daughter, but I wish I’d never had a child with that man. I was very young when we got together, but now I understand how conditional his love is.”
“We have to get a few things cleaned up around here, blood and bodies. Can I take you to a separate room so you and your daughter can wait for us?”
She agrees, and we have them close their eyes as we pass her late husband’s body. I guide her along the hallway to the next door down. We check the room and get them comfortable, then join Ant downstairs.
Ant must’ve found someone close to his size. He’s wearing clean clothes that are only a little big on him, and there’s a lightness to him that I don’t think I’ve seen before. He runs up and gives me a hug, and I kiss his soaking-wet head.
“Is he dead?” Ant asks, whispering the words into my chest.
“Yes. Javier and I took care of him together.”
He nods and snuggles in closer. “Good.”
“We also discovered that he got remarried to a young woman, and they have a daughter. Maybe five or six.”
“Wait. I have a new aunt?” he asks.
“Yeah, I guess. I don’t know what you want to do with them, but they look like they were caught up in this like your mom was.”
He nods. “I’m sure the Wimberley team will want to double and triple verify that for us.”
“You bet your sweet ass we will,” Anders says, his voice coming in over the comms.
Shit. I’d forgotten about the comms.
“Why haven’t you been chirping in my ear?” I ask. “What good is a Bat Phone if y’all aren’t helping us?”
Ant gawps at me. “You actually called the Bat Phone?”
“Yeah, but Anders answered, so…wah, wah,” I say, grinning as I point to my earbud.
“Oh, shut up,” Anders responds sourly. “So, cousin, what’s the status with everything?”
Javier joins us and hands Ant his comms device.
“Ant took out, like, twenty guys on his own. Javier and I got the grandfather.”
Hugging my side, Ant says, “Yeah, but the dead guys’ radios have been squawking this whole time. I have a feeling we need to get out of here fast.”
“Nah. Don’t worry about that,” Anders says in that far too laid-back tone of his. “There’s no rush.”
Ant’s eyes widen and he starts shaking his head. “I’d bet everything in my bank account they’ve already got a fresh new group of guys on the way up here from Mexico City or someplace closer.”
“There was a group, but they were on the way down from Tamaulipas.”
“Were?”
“Wimberley got their nerds on it, and they played the world’s fastest game of drone versus car,” Anders explains, sounding disappointed.
“Cousin, I take it you’re not a fan of drones.”
A familiar cackle floats across the line, and Ant starts laughing too. “Hop, buddy, is that you?” he asks, squeezing me tight.
“In the flesh.”
“Where are you?”
“With me in Wimberley,” Anders says glumly.
“How the fuck—never mind.” I gesture for Ant to continue.
“Why aren’t y’all on your way down here to rescue me?”
“Because we have satellites and could see that you already killed everyone,” Anders grouses. His disappointment is both ridiculous and hilarious.
“I’m sorry, bud,” Ant says sincerely. “You know I would’ve left you some people to kill if they hadn’t been trying to kill me so bad.”
“I’m not disappointed in you. I just…” Anders lets the sentence drift off with a deep and terrible sigh before mumbling, “Bat Phone missions used to be fun.”
Hop fills in the rest. “Anders doesn’t like drones. Says they’re going to put him out of a job.”
I roll my eyes. “Whatever. Cousin, you’re also a surgeon. You’ve got plenty of work to do.”
“Yeah, but that’s the boring part. We all know I’m way better at killing.”
Hopper is the voice of reason. “Now, Anders. You know damn well they can only use drones in places that can be cleanly hit. There are plenty of people in apartments who need to be killed and plenty of places where it doesn’t make sense to go in with drones. You’re not losing your job anytime soon.”
“If you say so. Meanwhile, our buddy Ant is in Mexico getting shot at from every angle, and we can’t be there to help him?”
“Anders, we’ve already had this discussion,” says Edison, Anders’ commanding officer.
“Hey, Edison,” Ant says. “Thanks for the assist with the drone.”
Anders grumbles.
Edison ignores him. “You’re quite welcome. The information you shared on these ops has given us a far clearer view of this syndicate’s business model. We’ve already started putting together logistics, and we’ll be using drones for most of the takedowns. After that, we’ll send Anders and Hopper along with the team to take care of the rest. You are, of course, more than welcome to join us.”
Ant looks up at me, tilting his head, and I place a small kiss on his lips.
“That’s really sweet of you, but I think I need a break from all the murdering.”
“I don’t understand,” Hopper says. “Who needs a break from murdering? Murdering is the break.”
Ant snorts. “I hear you, buddy, but I’m learning I’m built a little different.”
Edison comes back on the line. “Sounds completely reasonable. I want you to know, Ant, that you are the reason we’re going to burn this entire organization to the ground. You should be proud of yourself.”
“Thanks, Edison. I kind of am.” Turning to me, Ant stretches up for a kiss. “I don’t know about you, but I’m ready to get the fuck out of here.”
“Gross, I can hear you kissing on the line,” Anders mumbles.
“Don’t listen to him,” Hop says. “He’s just mad he didn’t get to kill anyone today.”
