Joaquin Fuertes

2. Joaquin

JOAQUIN

“Joaquin, are you listening to me?” Monica screamed, while she accompanied me out of my office building. She showed up without calling and wanted to talk. I never returned her calls two months ago after I bumped into who I now recognize was Sofia Chambers. Something about her was mesmerizing and calmed me down. Those brief moments played in my mind repeatedly until I had my people investigate and locate her information when they left Antonio’s that day. She didn’t acknowledge my question about dinner, but over time, she’ll open up to being my friend and then my lover.

“Monica, go home.”

Gabriella pulled up in the black SUV that we did business in that called for a fast exit. Tightening my black gloves, I kissed Monica on the forehead and told her I’d be in touch with her later. She stepped in front of me, blocking me from leaving.

“What is this?” I questioned, anger making my tone harsher than normal.

“No, you are not leaving without me. I don’t see what I did wrong, but please forgive me,” Monica whined, running her hand up to my chest, then standing on her toes to plant a kiss on my lips. I turned my head and it landed on my cheek.

“We’re work acquaintances, Monica, nothing more.”

“Do you have all your work acquaintances sucking your d**k?” she snapped harshly.

“Did you think embarrassing yourself in public would get me to agree to speak with you privately?”

“I-”

“No, I’ve never thrown you the impression we had anything other than friendship. Go home, and I will call you. Never come up here again without calling me first.”

“But you never answer my calls, Joaquin, and you know Gael hates me.” She leaned her head into my chest, and I gently leaned her head up, wiping the tears off her cheek.

“Go home. I have a business to handle.”

Monica agreed, smiling weakly, and stepping out of my way, and I headed in the car's direction before getting inside, and Gabriella drove off.

“She will be a problem, boss,” Gabriella implied, typing in the warehouse's address where the guns were located. Gael got a call late last night that a shipment of our weapons had been stolen, and they suspected it was the Russians. I had my own suspicions; there was a local g**g poking around our business. Antonio could negotiate a three-way sale of guns from Germany without going through the Russians, and we’d split everything down the middle. Now to have a shipment come up missing not even twenty-four hours later, I had my concerns. It was only two in the afternoon, so traffic was heavy, and everybody was out. The warehouse was near the loading dock. Antonio shuffled things around after his situation with Queen months back, and destroyed the old warehouse that was closer to the city. This was further out by the Hudson River.

“Monica is needy and weak. Her entire existence is based on my approval, and I’ve never given her that impression. She doesn’t even know my parents’ names or where I live,” I answered in my native Portuguese.

“If she becomes a problem…”

“Then I’ll take care of her making sure she understands that being in my life won’t be her end result.” I grunted, lifting my g*n out of my holster and removing the safety and c*****g it back. Gabriella pulled into the entrance of the warehouse. Gael, Hugo, and a few more men were standing by. I walked out of the car and slammed it shut.

“Any visitors?” I interrogated.

Gael rubbed the back of his neck, looking nervous.

“Speak,” I urged.

“There are women working inside; we can’t go inside. I think it was a false call,” Gael responded.

Turning and wandering to the front door, I opened the gate to see a room full of women of all ages and races sewing. The low hum of merengue played in the background. Searching around, it looked like a sweatshop as the racks of jumpsuits were labeled Fashion Den. Grating my teeth, I shot my revolver in the air and everyone screamed and scrambled to run off. I pointed at Hugo to block the front door. Scanning around the room, I looked everyone in the eye to see if they’d give away who was in charge.

“Excuse me for my interruption. Who is in charge here?” I demanded, marching down the aisle.

No one spoke and I pointed at Gael to help. He was more of a negotiator. He came over and got out some money, and one woman stepped up and took it in exchange for giving us information.

“The supervisor stepped out, he said that he would get back in an hour after dropping off a package,” the young lady explained; she didn’t look over the age of twenty, and was dressed in worn jeans and a dingy blue vest with Fashion Den spiraled across her chest.

“How long have you worked here?” I sought answers and she seemed like she was willing to provide information.

“One year, sir.”

“Any other rooms in this place? A basement or office?”

She nodded and pointed to the exit sign. I waved for Gael to follow me, and for Hugo and Gabriella to stay up front.

I jogged over to the door and pushed it open. It was a dark hallway that led to another door. There was rat s**t on the ground and empty food containers. It looked more like the trash area than a business office and I wrinkled my nose at the noxious odors that surrounded us. Gael and I drew our guns and opened the door on the count of three. Crates, small and big, sat open. I walked over and checked one and noticed serial numbers on the inside of the container. Gael checked another box, and we continued for the next five minutes, coming up empty-handed. We left the room and ran back to the front entrance. Hugo was standing at the window and c****d his shotgun.

“We have company, about three cars and eight men that I could see,” Hugo whispered.

“Take the women to the back and find an exit,” I shouted at the young lady who was in charge. She pushed them to follow behind her right as Hugo busted a hole in the window and started shooting. I moved to the other side of the window and peeked out as gunfire was returned.

Pop! Pop! Pop!

“It has to be Vitale’s men,” Gael yelled.

“Go through the back and come up on the side. I’ll hold them off, and you get a clean shot. Gabriella, go with him,” I yelled as I motioned to the two of them before running a hand down my face, sweat staining my shirt.

Narrowing my eyes, I aimed the handgun toward his ankle and pulled. He screamed in pain, falling, and the other men tried to help him, which opened a doorway for Gael and Gabriella to get off a few more rounds until Hugo and I walked outside to clear the area. I kicked the g*n away from the only one that was left alive. Stooping down, I smacked him in the face, getting him to focus.

“Aye, focus!” I snapped my finger.

“f**k you, Joaquin!” he shouted in pain. I took the tip of my g*n and pushed it into his wound as he cried out.

“Who sent you and where are my guns?” I sneered, c*****g my g*n in his direction.

“I know nothing.”

Gabriella grinned, thirsty to kill.

“Then, you’re of no use to me,” I responded, shooting him in between the eyes, and walking off toward my car to leave. I wiped the sweat off of my brow as Gabriella started the car and drove me home. Twenty minutes later, I stepped in the shower, and cleaned the blood off my hands and face. I had guards all around my building watching for any blowback. If I heard that my enemies were working together to sabotage me, hell wouldn’t be good enough for them once I was finished with them. Throwing on a t-shirt and jeans, I stalked to my office and turned on my monitors then watched outside to see if anything was off. I stood and walked to my wall safe, typed in my password and grabbed a g*n, checked the chamber, and sealed it back up. I sat down in my chair and sent a text to Gabriella to make sure the area was completely cleared.

Me: I don’t need any surprises.

Gabriella: Job is clear and clean.

Me: Good.

Gabriella: Have you seen her?

Me: I will, soon.

I closed my messages and continued to look over the photos and video of the restaurant where I bumped into Sofia, and watched to see if I missed anyone watching her. I planned to spend the rest of the night putting security in place for her in case this was the beginning of a new war.