The Sweetest Kill (Morales' Cartel #1)

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Please read the A/N below it's important.

1 9 7 0,

C H I H U A H U A ,

M E X I C O,

The endless glaring of rays from the sun continued to simmer the young boy as he once again cleaned the sweat dripping from his temple with the sleeves of his yellow t-shirt, and once again the foul smell of it etched a frown on his chubby cheeks. Dismissing the temptation to bury his face in the freezer - because this time Mrs Garcia would punish him and punishment meant: no cupcakes for a week - he shook his head he would absolutely not let that catastrophe come. Concentrating again, he struggled to tie the ropes, making it in a loop.

"¡Apúrate! Juan is coming." The high screech of Rosa pierced his ears and he cringed. The pace of his fingers hastened as he tightened the final knot and wiped his muddy fingers on his olive green pants. Quickly looking around his back, he gave a quick nod to Rosa as they both ran to hide behind a tree.

"Rosa! Hunter! Ven aquí. Say 'hi' to your new little friend. Mirar, she is so beautiful." Hunter peeked from his tree and wondered how did she find wherever they were. Did she have a magician who always helped her? A large thud rumbled about him and he involuntarily closed his and shrugged his shoulders. He looked back at the blue-eyed girl beside him and both burst into a fit of giggles as they watched Juan getting up from the ground and blinking his tears away.

Served him right! How dare he made fun of his name: Hunter the punter.

"Oh, dear! Juan, hija, go to Mrs Lopez, she will treat you then you can meet our little Isobel. Rosa and Hunter, ven aquí, see, she is sleeping so beautifully." Hunter glanced at Mrs Gracia, the pink ankle-length maxi dress tightened around the stout figure, her face flushed red under the blazing sun of August and the wild brown hair in the bun were tightly kept. The warm smile rested on her face like always and her eyes crinkled as her smile grew more and she tightened her fingers on a little bundle in white she was cradling.

The curiosity pumped the energy in his legs and he ran towards their new guest. Their orph-orphan--he settled for the word 'home' - was small with only 20 kids and when some of them went away; they never came back. Mrs Garcia said that their parents had taken them into a new home. Of course! She was lying because he was five and his parents never came. Was nobody waiting for him in a new home? He often thought. Ignoring the rising resentment, he quickened his steps to his mentor.

"Let me see! Let me see!" Hunter bounced on his feet, his curiosity only flooding due to never seeing a newborn, chuckling, the plump lady bent and a loud gasp escaped from his mouth, "She is so pretty. Hermosa!" In response, a tiny yawn erupted from Isobel's mouth. Her small fist jerked, and she kicked her feet in the air. He wondered about the colour of her eyes - which were closed at the minute. He sighed. Everything about her was so tiny and delicate that a fierce guarding instinct arose within a young boy. She resembled a fresh bud of rose flower to him, who needed a lot of protection from harshness to bloom into a beautiful flower. He continued to gaze in wonder until he heard Rosa beside him.

"She is not pretty. Her skin looks like a wrung cloth and she looks ew." Rosa's face scrunched in disgust. A bubble of anger emanated at her insult, before Mrs Garcia could admonish, Hunter pushed Rosa down on the ground.

"She is! Never talk to her like that, idiota."

"Hunter! Rosa! Dejar que. Is that what I have taught you? Rosa, you will serve dinner for the whole month. Y, you, Hunter, no cupcakes for a week. Go and take a bath, you both are spoiled in mud. Y, say sorry to Juan too." The warm smile was replaced by a grim line and a marred frown puckered between her eyebrows carving a twinge of guilt inside Hunter's chest. Muttering another profanity, he watched his matron going inside and he again glared at Rosa with a newfound animosity.