He better learn quickly.
Mateo stuffed the gun in the back of his jeans, then shoved a beanie on his head as he left the dirty alley to head for the lonely house he’d never planned to go to again.
It was the place his father had taken men when he didn’t want people to hear their screams.
Javier stood on the worn-down porch. “I didn’t think you’d have the balls to come.” Javier’s voice was dark, as evil as he remembered.
Mateo stepped up to him. “I have the balls. Plus, I’m lookin’ forward to killing you. Where’s Ben?”
Javier nodded toward the door. “Ladies first.”
Instead of walking toward the door, Mateo stepped right in front of Javier, so close their chests touched. “I’m all man. I want you to remember that when I kill you. Remember that it was a maricone who takes it up the ass that watched you breathe your last breath. Because I will. I don’t give a shit if I go with you. I’m watching you die today for what you did to them.”
He didn’t even have it in himself to hate the words. Maybe this was the way it was supposed to be. Maybe he was destined to live with blood on his hands, but he would take that destiny if it meant keeping Josiah and Tristan safe. If it meant avenging the pain Javier had caused Josiah.
Even death would be worth protecting them.
Mateo backed up, opened the door and stepped inside. A man sat bound and gagged on an old, dingy couch. He lay on his side with his head down, but looked up and made eye contact with Mateo. He had fresh wounds on his face that showed Javier had recently had a little fun with him. He wore a suit just like Tristan did.
“Let him go. This is between me and you.”
Javier spit. It narrowly missed Mateo’s face. “You’re just like him. Just like your fucking father. You always think you’re in control of every situation. You think you’re better than everyone else and that we have to bow down to whatever the fuck you tell us to do. I’m sick of listening to Ricky Sanchez, and I won’t take shit from his maricone son.”
“Fuck my father, and fuck you. I don’t give a shit about this world. I would have left it behind if you didn’t drag me back into it.”
Mateo saw the movement, saw Javier reach for his gun, so Mateo did the same thing. They faced off, arms out, fingers on the triggers. It had been a long ass time since he had a gun pointed at him. It had been even longer since he pointed one at someone else.
Javier seethed. “This is you. You caused this. I was done with you. I could have killed you years ago. My motherfucking trigger finger itched every time I saw you, but I didn’t because of your mama, and your father.”
They circled each other, guns still drawn, Javier still talking. “I owed Ricky my fucking life. He is my family. I dedicated existence to him and whatever he wanted me to do, yet it was always about you. Training you. Grooming you. Keeping you in Los Deminos, even though you’re too much of a pussy to be a true demon. I let you go to fuck your boy and live your pathetic life, even though it should have been a death sentence, and how do you repay me? You send some of my own people to kill me? You send people to take out my gang. My empire. The Demons weren’t shit when Ricky led us. We are what we are right now because of me, and now you want to take that from me?”
Mateo’s head spun. He fought to hold on to the control slipping from his grasp. Fought the urge to pull the trigger right now.
Javier’s words didn’t make sense. Tristan’s contact wouldn’t have been a Demon. He wouldn’t have been taking out other Demons. Tristan’s words came back to him... Ben told me there had been murders, someone killing Demons...
“I wish it had been me. There is no one I want to see die more than you. But I can promise you, if I was going to kill you, I’d do it myself.”
“I recognize the work. I know what your father taught you.”
Flashes of memories tried to break through Mateo’s mind. His dad teaching him how to execute someone, teaching him how to dispose of bodies.
“It’s what I would have done to your little maricone. I wanted you to find him that way. I wanted you to owe me. I found my way to own you regardless, but it would have been a lot more fun to see you find him dead.”
All Mateo saw was red. All he felt was hate. In that moment, he could have been his father, he could have been Javier, and he wouldn’t have cared. Right now, he wanted revenge. Death.
His finger squeezed the trigger, pushing it down, but the gun jammed. He realized it the same time Javier did. The motherfucker smiled, and Mateo knew he didn’t stand a chance. He lunged just as Javier shot. The bullet narrowly missed him, seconds before his body collided with Javier’s.