Page 89 of Four Cards Exposed

“I don’t,” he said, answering his own question.

“What?”

His carefully plucked eyebrows arched up into his forehead.

“I’ve never wished to go back in time, because I’ve made my own life, step by step, moment by moment.”

The words she was going to utter froze in her lips. He was still speaking English, but his words made no sense.

“What?” she repeated.

“Guerrero isn’t threatening me. If anything, he was perhaps the one most surprised by this turn of events.”

As she watched, Miguel’s expression shifted, beginning with his eyebrows and moving down his face, all the way to his fleshy, pink lips—each muscle tightening and strengthening. It was a striking, terrifying transformation.

“Miguel …”

“I guess you don’t really know me, querida. That’s alright. Nobody does. But you’re here now, and I’m in a sharing mood,” he said expansively. So I’ll tell you this: what happened to my brother is exactly what I was hoping would happen. I planned every second of that.”

“But you …”

“… always seemed to you like the poor, downtrodden brother. I understand. But I was the original informant. I was the one who put the FBI on my brother’s tracks. I was also the one who put the idea in my brother’s mind that we should diversify our product. I saw the way kids were picking up meth and fentanyl, and knew that’s where our success was going to come from.“

Susan clenched her eyes, fought to stop herself from retching.

This must be some kind of nightmare.

Miguel inhaled deeply, slowly letting out a fetid breath. “I was the one who convinced my brother this US expansion was necessary, and I was the one who found Moore. My brother, you see, is not a very smart man.”

All this time, there was a monster in front of us, and we didn’t see it.

“You knew all along that the FBI was after your brother?”

“I knew some things. I knew there was an FBI agent undercover. It took me some time to figure out it was Jay. I certainly didn’t know about you,” he said. His expression broke into a large smile, as if he’d enjoyed the challenge. “You are a good actress, querida. In another life, we could have done something great together.”

She licked her dry lips. “Miguel. Escucha. You can be free now. You don’t need to perpetuate—“

“I don’t want to be free.”

“What do you want? Let me go, Miguel, and I’ll help you.”

Miguel broke into loud, convulsive laughter. “You don’t understand. I have exactly what I want. I want to be him. To have everything Ernesto had. It’s all I ever wanted.”

He’s mad.

Completely and utterly insane.

“I should be thanking you for your hard work, querida, so I’m sorry I have to punish you instead. But I have to show my strength. I have to show my men that the insult to my brother has not been forgotten, and that the pigs who took my brother will pay dearly. I have to do all this, to protect the Mendoza name, and then I will take over where he left off.”

His hand reached out to graze her face. Despite herself, Susan shrank back.

“No. Please,” she begged.

“You don’t want to be touched. I understand.” His voice took on a warning tone. “But you’re going to help me, Susan.”

Those two softly uttered syllables, her name on his lips, were her breaking point. Her entire body shook. She pulled against the chain, not caring that her wrists were starting to bleed.

Miguel watched her calmly, his expression almost patient, as if having a woman chained to a wall in his basement was an everyday occurrence to him.