Stay in your lane

In Florida, summer was just starting, with the edge of spring just a quiet whisper as the intense humid air hit the duo. Driving with the windows open was intolerable. The wind that swept through the pair felt like a hot gush of mushy, muddy mist. Avon Park had a seedy underbelly, but so did much of Florida if you looked closely.

Manuel was driving with his adopted brother (never officially adopted but in word and deed only), going on and on about his organization, his role in the armed faction for the Sinaloa Cartel.

Manuel turned on the radio for a bit, but immediately stopped changing the station when he heard, Hey Jude, by The Beatles start.

The brothers looked at each other with a gleeful expression and they started tapping and drumming their fists on the dash and steering wheel to the beat.

They knew the song word for word and sang it out loud with an obnoxious tone, making them both laugh. They had heard this song once as kids in a supermarket randomly playing. For some reason, it made them start drumming along to the beat. Ever since, it has been their unspoken tradition to sing along and pretend to drum to the entire thing.

The song ended. Manuel all of a sudden had a contemplative look. The mood shifted into a sudden chill that made Aki feel anxious.

“Aki? You think about potentially getting in with me soon? All I need to do is drop your name at a few head honchos. Though,” he hit his chest in bravado, “I’m a head honcho.”

The switch in tone from light-hearted to talking about joining a well-known cartel faction… it made Aki feel anxious and upset.

“Do you really think this will make your future better? I don’t know if I should even be asking…” Aki sighed, closing his window.

“I have my autonomy. I do whatever I need to do to get shit done. I don’t ask for anyone to give me permission,” Manuel laughed with a mocking tone.

Aki frowned, “But I’m asking a very serious question. What will this mean for you in the future?”

“I know what I want. I know where I need to be. Ain’t nobody… you, my asshole father, Lala, or some other jerk gonna tell me that I should do something else. My life is my life, Aki,” Manuel headed down the infamous mile long stretch of shops that is the mall off of Main Street.

“So, you’re already initiated? As in you are already in the process of being in the gang or…”

Manuel looked over at Aki, with a smile that felt more familiar than anyone else, especially to Aki. It was a manipulative gesture that made Aki usually say yes.

“I started as a lugartenientes. I’m have my own territory, I can manage the rest of the day to day stuff—-I can manage the big picture shit,” Manuel leans back, “You see, Aki, even though Guzman has been put away and all of our rivals try to get us, they can’t fuck with us, we’re top-tier in organization. Fucking Walmart and even white-cracker McDonald’s keeps us from going under. America is complicit with the drug trade. They fucking need us to soften the public into submission. Like the fucking quote about religion being the opiate of the masses. Even with trafficking. All that shit. You gotta get in with me, I’ll give you the key to success. Eso si. You can be my scout, my eyes, my little falcon,” Manuel proudly says as he pats Aki on the back.

Aki sat back in seat, feeling his body go lower with a heavy weight on his chest, much as he did when he was a foster kid and was used to being talked down to. He loved Manuel as they had a lot of history together. Manuel protected him, made sure he was fed, had clothes and was not beaten by the local kids in the neighborhood. However, he did not want to get into the messy and violent situation that Maunel was involved in. Cartel was not on Aki’s mind for a career, not by a long shot.

As they were driving near their destination, pulling into the driveway for The Red Secret, a covert spa that was really a niche brothel, Aki wanted to get out of the car and run away. This was one of Manuel’s most successful and newest acquired businesses that laundered a hefty chunk of the drug money into a legitimate income stream.

“Anyway, I want you to meet one of my recent recruits,” Manuel explained as they got out of the car. “We do more than that Bolivian white powder, Aki,” He started as they walked in, “We also diversify: illegal mining, logging, and fuel siphoning.”

Aki shrugged. “Makes sense.”

They headed into the soft lighting that felt dark of the waiting area.

Manuel leaned over the counter to talk to a busty woman that oversaw the clients when he was away, speaking quietly. She immediately went to a back room and said, “He’s ready.”

“So, you can meet him, and then after that, I need to go over some things with him. You can always use this as your cover,” Manuel explained hastily as they walked into an office room.

“Cover? Ugh, look, Manny, I don’t know about this. I can’t imagine being apart of-”

Manuel cut him off, “Think about that first before you say no.”

The pair was met with a flurry of brown and black curls and smoky brown eyes. He has cat-eye accents for makeup, and Aki could see that although Arturo was wearing men’s clothing, he was wearing bright yellow pumps.

Manuel gently nudged Aki, “Here’s my star, Arturo. Arturo, this is my brother, Aki. Shake hands,” he pantomimed shaking hands and Aki reluctantly shook Arturo’s hand.

“Nice to meet you,” Arturo said with a downcast gaze.

“You too,” Aki repeated.

“So, you worked out a routine? You talked to Dubois?” Manuel started and Arturo nodded. “You know our market and what they expect?”

Aki zoned out as they talked. Aki felt so out of place and out of touch with Manuel at that moment. He knew they didn’t have much in common anyway, but being in this weird brothel and talking to Manny about becoming a scout for the Sinaloa… it was heavy.

“Heya, Manny?”

Manuel jolted out of his conversation with Arturo. Aki gestured with his hand for Manuel to come over so he did.

“Yeah?” Manuel had an impatient look.

“Uh… How old is he? Ugh, Look, I’m going go, Manny. I don’t think this is for me, honestly. We can have lunch together sometime this week if you are free. I just…” Aki subconsciously twisted a stray, black lock of hair around his finger, a nervous habit since youth. “I can’t do it.”

Manuel scoffed, “He’s like twenty years old, what you think? You think I hire minors?” He said with a frown. “Think on it.”

Aki shook his head. “No, I’m sorry, I just can’t do it. I can’t see you do this anymore either, Manny, I wish you could just stop this and let me help you-”

“Stay in your fucking lane, Chico. You don’t tell me shit. Don’t get confused for a second that I actually need you. I am trying to do you a favor, so don’t be so quick to call me out.”

“Manny, what? Come on…”

Manuel frowned. “Just get out of my way. Get the hell out of here.”

Aki looked at Arturo and mouthed out a sorry. Arturo nodded and smiled.

Aki left in a hurry as Manuel swiftly turned around and went back to business.

“Don’t worry about him, he’s a softie but he’s not a snitch,” Manuel said.

Arturo nodded. “No worries, should I go and get ready?” Arturo tried his hardest to not look a little shaken by the exchange but it wasn’t hard to see Manuel was upset the most. Manuel nodded.

“We aren’t doing anything… like… super illegal here right?”

Manuel laughed, patting his shoulder. “Not at all. It’s the only way I do anything. Clean as a whistle, as they say.”

In a private room, Arturo turned on Bbydhyonchord by Aphex Twin on the highest volume. He passed by Manuel, spraying a spritz of lemon, using a pillow to hold to his eyes, giving butterfly kisses with his lashes, hands on his own thighs.

Arturo dips, leaning over the bed and then spraying a small bit of orange citrus, then jasmine. All apart of the butterfly package, it includes a dance, a massage (nothing sexual) and some sensual, “butterfly kisses,” which is imitated from what butterflies do with pheromones and scents, and with Arturo using his lashes to flutter against the client’s skin.

In a very short violet dress, hair in tight curls, full makeup and the yellow pumps, Arturo dances almost in a trance, hypnotic and euphoric. He doesn’t care about who is the room at the moment, all that he wanted was to be this way in a free and comfortable place. One day, he hopes, he will find someone who loves him for exactly who he is.

Manuel is sitting in a chair, watching but not really paying attention. He doesn’t like this stuff but he wants to make money. He knows that Arturo is going to make him a crap ton of money, but that isn’t the only reason.

He wants to keep Arturo close, a part of his legacy, his collection. He doesn’t see Arturo, he sees a trophy he can win and use to his benefit. He’s not a pimp, but he’ll act however he needed to so he can get his way.

The song ended. Arturo sat on the bed, waiting.

Manuel sat up. “So, strictly speaking, we don’t do anything sexual here. If a client asks, tell him to talk to Dubois but it’s prohibited. We don’t do any hanky panky. It would cost an obscene price, but, I don’t want to make it a habit or even a part of our services. Any trouble, call me,” Manuel said matter-of-factly.

Arturo nodded. “I can do weekends and some nights on the weekday.”

“Sounds good. We will be in touch.”

Arturo started to speak but stopped. Manuel looked at him with curiosity.

“What do you want to say?”

“I’m sorry you had a fight with your brother. I’m sure if you two cool off, y’know… I sometimes get into with my brothers…” Arturo laughed modestly, changing the subject as Manuel’s face turned stony and stern.

“I saw a bearded lady…” Arturo offered with an excited look.

Manuel smiled with a condescending expression. “Yeah, she’s for this one weirdo; he likes to caress beards on ladies. It’s strictly for people that like circus stuff.”

Arturo chuckled, “I like the circus, too.”

Manuel nodded. “Then you’re in the right place.”

—

Author note: this is an unfinished chapter but I wanted to give you all a sneak peek of Silent Bites. Eukalypto Will be releasing this book this year!