Mike
Mexico. It's like walking through soup out here on a good day in this heat. Should have known that Marcus has ties with the cartel.
There’s a slap on my shoulder. “Smell that, son? That’s the smell of money. Being rich. To take anything you want without limits.”
I take a whiff around me and see nothing but run-down shacks, goats, and a couple of cows on the outskirts of Mexico City. “Smells like bullshit to me.”
“Now, Mike. That’s not the right kind of attitude to have here in paradise!” Randall takes a few steps ahead of me for a door to one of the more stable looking shacks. “I need you to be on your best behavior. Lately, I’ve been really pleased with how far you’ve come; however, I know that deep down inside you hold a certain type of repugnance towards me. So, I will remind y
