Taste Of Scotch // James Valdez

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I bolted from the shower, my feet sliding on the tiles, not giving a damn about the soapy water that was now ruining the plush, million-dollar carpet Guero had just installed. The phone was ringing, and with each chime, my heart felt like it was being squeezed by an invisible hand.

You might think it's just a phone call, but trust me, it's never just a phone call.

"You don't know me, Elena, but Guero's dead. Get out of the house," the voice said, cold and emotionless. The phone slipped from my grasp, hitting the floor with a thud that echoed through my soul. My breath hitched, eyes welling up, and I stumbled backward, trying to process the words that had just shattered my world.

"Theresa!" I screamed, my voice raw and desperate. Dropping the towel, I dashed upstairs, not caring about my nudity, and burst into my room, grabbing the first clothes I could find. "Theresa!" I yelled again, and this time, she appeared, her face a mask of confusion and fear.

"Call Drew, tell him to get to the safe house and call Brenda. Hurry, Theresa!" I shouted, yanking my jeans on with a desperate urgency. Theresa's eyes were wide, confusion painted across her face, but I knew better. She was sharp, and I didn't need to spell it out for her to connect the dots.

Theresa nodded, her movements a blur as she dashed out of the room, her phone already to her ear.

I took one last, lingering look around, the weight of finality pressing down on me. This was it. The end of an era, the last time I'd ever see this place. As I stood there, the room seemed to echo with the ghosts of Guero and me, every laugh, every whisper. Tears, hot and stinging, traced lines down my cheeks. I brushed them away with an angry swipe, turning on my heel.

The hallway stretched out before me, and I sprinted, grabbing Theresa by the arm. We had to get to Brenda before they did. Time was running out, and so were our chances.

By the time we reached Brenda, the clock was ticking down to zero. Epifanio's goons were already circling, their presence suffocating. We barely made it out the window when they stormed in, a gun pressed against Chino's temple.

I was pulling at Brenda, my heart pounding in my ears, trying to drag her away from the nightmare that was about to unfold, when the gunshot shattered the air. My eyes widened in terror as Chino's body crumpled to the ground, life draining from him.

The shooters, now with blood on their hands, charged towards us. Brenda's screams were like a distant echo, even though she was right beside me, her voice drowned out by the chaos.

"Brenda!" I screamed, grabbing her arm with a force I didn't know I had, yanking her towards where Teresa and Tony were already sprinting for their lives. With every step, my feet hit the ground, my heart pounded like a drum, echoing the fear that was consuming me. I was scared, no, I was beyond terrified. And all I could think about was Guero.

I was a mess, panting like I'd run a marathon, my vision swimming in and out of focus, my heart threatening to burst through my ribcage. I leaned against the wall, eyes shut, trying to catch my breath, to find some semblance of calm.

"Elena, we can't stop now," Theresa gasped, her voice barely there, her face appearing in my blurred vision. She was right, of course. We had to keep moving, find a place to lay low.

We'd left Brenda and Tony with my brother, who'd sworn to keep them safe. We promised to reach out with a plan, but the truth was, we were flying blind. Teresa and I were still on the run in Mexico, with Epifanio's men hot on our tails.

"I know, I know," I muttered, pushing off the wall. I scanned the street, half-expecting to see Epifanio's goons. Thankfully, they were nowhere in sight. "What do we do? What did Guero tell you?" Teresa's question snapped me back to reality.

That's when it hit me, like a bolt from the blue. I knew exactly what we needed to do.