Jax (Titan #9)(19)

"What if you don't?"

"I will."

"What if you can't?"

"I can." And with every ounce of Seven's being, she wanted to rid drugs from the streets so that little girls and boys never had to have the fear of parents leaving and dying like Bianca did. "But if for some reason I were late—like my flight was delayed—you'd be with Glamma, and you'd know exactly where I was and why."

Bianca blinked but didn't say anything.

Fucking hell. Screw Mayhem; Seven wasn't going anywhere. "Sweetie, I'll stay home."

Bianca's eyes went wide. "What? No! We want to stay with Glamma!"

Seven chuckled. Denied! "Oh, okay. Are you sure?"

"Yes! You have to go. Glamma's slumber party is going to be the best. She said so."

"Oh yeah?" Seven mouthed best as Gennita laughed, and she threw her arms out to hug her kiddos. "Both of you, c'mere. I love you with my whole heart."

"To infinity and the moon and the stars and the racetrack and the grocery store and the sky and back," Nolan added.

"That's a lot," Bianca explained. "I love you that much too."

Bang, bang.

"Oh, cool your horses," Gennita shouted at the door, shaking her head. "Those men. Let that be a lesson to you both." She scooped the kids from Seven. "We go when we're ready. Not when someone tells us to scoot. Back on those bikes."

They jumped onto their imaginary hogs.

"You ready?"

"As I'll ever be." Seven grabbed her bag and headed toward her ride that would fly her to Jax, Johnny, and cartel country. Maybe Xanax wasn't a bad idea after all with a list like that.





CHAPTER ELEVEN


Bogotá, Distrito Capital

Colombia



The old city bustled with sights and sounds that made it seem more like a modern marvel of the political and cultural powerhouse that it was. Flower markets overfilled every corner, boasting the most bountiful and beautiful blossoms in the world, thanks to the ideal humidity and high altitude of the capital city.

Unless someone was searching for the signs on the main streets and parks crowded with children, there were few outward appearances of cartel influence. But not many places in South America had the confluence of power, money, and illegal distribution networks as Bogotá. The city benefited from every ounce of drugs sold in the Western Hemisphere.

It had been years since Jax had walked these deceptive streets. Then, the phrase diplomatic relations weren't a thought. His purpose had been to disrupt weapons distribution networks by any means necessary. They had gone in silently and left a trail of blood and thunder behind. Their mission had been accomplished: massive disruption.

Still, he took the city in with the same predatory filter. Each businessman was assumed to be a cartel employee and blood-hungry. Every window and straightaway potentially housed a sniper nest, and walking next to Jared on the way to the meeting location—a restaurant named after Suarez's wife—Jax heeded the warning of the hairs prickling at the back of his neck. He and Jared were vulnerable with minimal body armor and weapons. The high altitude and low oxygen of Bogotá made each bullet feel as though its weight were quadrupled. Jax would rather be armed like he'd been years before.

"What kind of message does it send to name the restaurant Esmeralda's?" Jared muttered as they made a blind turn.

Jax had wondered that too. "Think she works there?"

Boss Man's hearty chuckle fell easily. "If by work, you mean surveys her people and drinks fine wine, then yes."

The Suarezes had more money than Jax could fathom. Esmeralda's was likely one of many fronts to launder money and host illegal meetings, though Jax had Googled the restaurant and found that it was very well reviewed. Though who would be ballsy enough to one-star the wife of a cartel king?

The restaurant was ahead, standing out with its opulence in a city that held its own with high-end eateries fueled by the drug profit of Colombia's black-market economy. The reported exports of flowers and coffee couldn't support the surrounding first-world economy. "I think it says we own this city."

"Yup," Jared agreed as they met the doorman.

"Good afternoon, and welcome to Esmeralda's." He opened the massive gold-gilded door with a bow and escorted them into a foyer with pomp and fanfare, then dropped his head in silent goodbye as security stepped from the shadows and patted them down, quietly disarming them with none of the doorman's dramatic display.

"Who knew you had this much fun when you went to meetings without us," Jax joked as a hostess appeared on cue.

Jared's bored expression said he had expected the disarmament. Jax had too. But he hadn't guessed there would be a bowing, shuffling, nodding dude at the door.

"Good afternoon," the young woman said. "This way."

The restaurant was eerily quiet, but Jax doubted they were as alone as it seemed. Winters, Cash, and Roman were positioned catty-corner at nearby blocks, and Jax assumed the Suarez cartel and Mayhem each had gunslingers similarly placed. It was the only way any of them would ever agree to the two-person-per-group sit-down.

The hostess batted her long eyelashes as she showed them back to a private room.