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CHAPTER ONE
TILO ADAMS
I pointed my gun at Roman, my lover’s brother. His head blew apart when I pulled the trigger. The gunshot seemed to reverberate throughout the house even though I used a silencer. I didn’t blink. It didn’t bother me that he was only seventeen and hadn’t had a chance to experience life. It didn’t bother me that he hadn’t even had a chance to experience busting a good nut let alone fish dive between some thighs. All that was irrelevant now. It didn’t even bother me that he never had a chance to experience love. He knew too much about me so he had to die. He didn’t even get the chance to question what was happening before I shot and killed him. Turning the gun on Victória, my lover, was harder than I thought it would be, but there was no way I could let her live. She knew too much.
Shock and fear paralyzed Victória but none of it mattered. Sadly, her fate was sealed the day she had met me. What she believed to be a chance meeting was actually contrived and part of a plan to get close to her family’s fortune. Her feet appeared to be rooted to the floor as fear infused her body. I was good until I gazed into her eyes. These were the same eyes that looked at me as we lay naked in bed, face to face. Our lips locked in a passionate kiss. I pulled the trigger again. One bullet. Point-blank range. Her body folded onto the floor. Warm droplets of blood sprinkled my face, searing my skin. I could not bear to look so I averted my eyes and stepped over her. Part of me died when I did it—not because of love—but because this was the most heinous thing I’d ever done, and somehow I knew I’d never be the same as a result of it.
“Sorry, babe,” I whispered. I felt like shit as I prepared to leave the house. Victória was the only person I’d allowed close to my heart. Part of me wanted to sneak down to the basement and take care of Moses, but I wasn’t willing to risk it. The potential for it to backfire on me could ruin all of my carefully laid out plans. I would have to deal with Moses on an entirely different level. He would be on the lookout for me and wouldn’t hesitate to pull the trigger if he saw me coming. I’d originally planned on splitting the money with him, but he showed me that he wasn’t trustworthy and wasn’t worth the risk.
Tucking the gun back into the waistband of my jeans, I quickly gathered the money-stuffed envelopes Ramón and Victória had been holding. My fingers shook as I pulled them free, and I felt like I was about to be sick. I was almost out the front door before I realized I hadn’t wiped the place clean of my fingerprints. Inwardly, I wished things could have ended differently. But as I’ve always said: two tears in a bucket, fuck it. After thoroughly wiping everything I had touched, I quietly closed the door behind me. Victória and Ramón had known where I lived. I was fairly certain they hadn’t shared that information with Moses. Every time I met with him, I’d always meet him at his office or in his home. So it was essential to take them out of the equation before I could move on to the next step, which was getting far, far away. Deception had a way of unraveling at the most unlikely times.
CHAPTER TWO
TILO ADAMS
I looked back once more at the carnage I'd created then casually walked to my car. Fortunately for me, I didn’t see anyone lurking on the street or peering out the window as I backed my car out into the street. Something, however, was wrong. The car was driving like a piece of shit.
“Fuck.” I slammed my hand on the steering wheel in frustration. I pushed the car as far as I could and got out at a corner to take a look.
My front tire was flat. Not in need of a little air; it was flat as if someone had slashed it. "Ain't this a bitch," I groaned. The car was not drivable. Even if I tried to drive it, it would draw too much attention because it made this loud thumping sound every time the tire buckled. I looked around to see if anyone was watching me. Conspiracy theories bounced around in my head because I didn’t believe the tire could have magically gone flat on its own. Moses, I knew he wasn’t to be trusted.
I looked around again. If anyone was there, they were well hidden. I started sweating. I needed to get as far away from my car as possible.
“Think, bitch.” I was mad because I hadn’t thought about a contingency plan. "Fuck. What the hell am I gonna do?" I kept staring at the tire like it was going to fix itself. I looked back down the street to the Mendoza house for any signs of life. Time was not on my side. I had to get moving before Moses came out with Mr. Mendoza. My heart was racing. I ran back down the street and tossed the gun on the front lawn, under the bushes. I turned and raced back to my car.
I opened the car door and retrieved the envelopes and my duffel bag. I left my purse on the front seat and with the keys in the ignition. I pulled out my switchblade, cut my palm, and smeared blood throughout the car. If everyone thought I was dead, they wouldn’t put so much effort in finding me. I lowered the window all the way down and left the door open. I walked away from the car without looking back. Fleeing a crime scene on foot was not in my plans but I didn't have a choice. I stuffed the envelopes in my bag then pulled out a disposable phone.
“You’ve reached 911, please hold.”
I expected to be put on hold so it did not upset me when I heard that awful music most organizations used. I thought the music was chosen simply to irritate the fuck out of folks so they’d hang up and save their resources. I used the time to get farther away from the house and to get my story straight. Once I cleared a few more blocks, I stopped walking so I wouldn’t be winded when the phone was finally answered.
“Nine-one-one. Is this an emergency?”
"I heard shots being fired. It sounded like it was right next door. Please hurry … someone may have been hurt." My voice was shaky and my shoulder hurt like hell from carrying the heavy duffel, bag but I hoped it added credibility to my call.
"Your name and address." The dispatcher sounded as if she was reading from a script.
"Do I have to give my name? I don't want to get involved."
"Address?"
It was a trick question but it didn't matter. I gave them the address of the house next door to the Mendoza’s.
“Good luck with that,” I said to myself after I ended the call and flipped the phone in the gutter. Even if I hadn’t thrown the phone into the gutter, there was no way it could have been traced back to me. Whoever invented the disposable phone was a genius. Every crook in the country should’ve been on their knees thanking them.
"Adios motherfucker!" I was about to get ghost.