Chapter 4: Testosterone

James sat frozen for a few long seconds as his brain refused to accept the reality. Alina Alicante was still pressed to him as his hands took her by the shoulders and moved her back: "What…did you just do?"

He couldn't find his voice as his mind dashed between the notion that this should not be happening and that it had happened. He had noticed the woman was too friendly, but he had made sure he kept his distance. How come she has misunderstood?

He could feel his heart pounding in his ears as he waited for her to say something.

As her big blue eyes stared at him, he wrinkled his forehead and whispered: "I never gave you any signal …What were you thinking?...You're…fired!"

He blurted the last sentence out, let go of her shoulders and stood up. His hand raked his hair as his mind realized he had spotted movement by the door in the few seconds her mouth had been pressed on his. But he wasn't sure? How could he be?

Alina stood up from the couch and when he turned to her, she said softly: "You can't fire me. I don't work for you!"

James was still feeling stunned and now felt reeling as the sense of a trap being laid suddenly accosted him.

Alina soothed her top and went on: "I really like you…and although I have heard your wife to be a hot shot, the door with me will remain open…in case you change your mind!"

James saw red, not only because of her inability to hide the tease in her tone, but because even if she had assumed he was interested, now that he had told her he was not, she didn't seem to care enough to even apologize.

And it all made no sense, as it did not resemble what a reasonable person would expect in such a misguided exchange.

The thought that he had to find out who had seen them took over his mind as he turned briskly on his heel and walked out of her office. He didn't intend to slam the door, but somehow it echoed after him.

Teresa's cell rang with James's tune and her heart froze.

She was not ready to talk to him. What if he said it was over? What if he told her he had been unhappy and needed space? What if this was the end of them?

They had had it so good for so long, that she felt cold gripping fear that bad things were about to happen.

How would she react if he wanted out? How would she fight for him…for them…for the family? She was in shock this was happening to her! She had no strategy, no idea…she needed time.

Her heart hammered in her chest and as he fingers trembled over the green button on the screen, the call ended. Teresa exhaled deeply and stood up to join the boarding line for her plane.

She felt ashamed and disloyal for not being able to take his call! And he obviously needed and wanted to talk to her!

She would talk to him, as soon as she arrived and got some more information…from Pote and from the woman herself. She promised herself.

The resort in Madagascar had been built first and because they had been in a rush to free up resources to start other construction, now it needed expansion. The building had a left and a right wing, and the four of them used the right-wing loft to stay overnight when in town. It had two huge bedrooms, a large dining room with a kitchenette and a large TV entertainment area.

Pote sat in the bar chair and gulped his third tequila shot as the far bedroom door opened and James walked out, surly, and preoccupied.

Pote had missed to notice he was even in. Had he heard him tell Kelly Anne what he had witnessed and how Teresa had tried to keep her composure when he had reported to her?

"I didn't know you were back, cabron?" Pote grumbled.

"I know you didn't!" James's voice sounded cold and angry.

Carajo, he had heard Pote talk to Kelly Anne! Pote braced for the conversation that was to follow.

But James said no more, just walked over to the bar and poured himself a whisky.

The silence made Pote uncomfortable, while James could hardly hold his temper.

He had forgiven Pote for meddling between Teresa and him back in Phoenix, and had embraced the man, Teresa had so generously forgiven and taken in her biz and family. But just now he had bitten his fist to stop himself from coming out of the room when that same man had raved to Kelly Anne about having 'known' that James had his eyes on the 'pinche lawyer'. How he was not thinking of Teresa, how he was betraying all of them. Listening to the bullshit had overwhelmed James and he had sat on the floor in the room wondering if Pote was losing his touch with reality or if he was really getting old. The stubborn Mexican had not even bothered to talk to James before making all these conclusions and announcing them to Kelly Anne.

When Pote had told her Teresa had almost cried over the phone at the news, James had been beside himself. He couldn't say how he had forced himself to lie on the bed and count down until the voices had stopped.

Teresa had not taken his call as she most likely was on a plane already. Damn Pote and his stupid running mouth! But the best was to wait for Teresa!

And James had waited for almost two hours, lying on the bed, staring at the ceiling.

Then Pote's voice came on again: "Well…then you know you got caught red handed…but what you don't know is what I was coming to tell you!"

As James downed his drink Pote went on: "We found a skid loaded with coke! 96% pure. Hidden …with the other construction materials, cabron!"

"What?" James's eyebrows crossed as he glared at Pote in dismay.

"Yes, while you went 'brunching', we were really 'searching' for the discrepancies!" Pote's voice was full of indignation and one could sense a tease.

"You had no idea your new lawyer friend was maybe involved?" Pote wanted to see James's reaction, but the last words came out wrong as he saw pain take over James's face.

"I know you never trusted me. But after all these years…I can't imagine why you'd think I knew!" James's voice was trembling with anger and Pote knew he should have kept quiet, but he just couldn't: "Because…cabron…you have gotten busy, and the construction doesn't seem to be your priority!"

"How the fuck do you know?" James exploded. "The woman jumped me…out of the blue…and all I have been doing is working!"

Pote felt confused, his head felt the tequila strong now. He was about to respond again as James's fist contacted with his jaw and threw him backwards taking him completely by surprise.

Then Pote caught a glimpse of James's expressionless face, save for whatever fire was burning far back in his eyes, and thought he had crossed the line. That cabron had a point!

Pote had been so upset that he hadn't given him the chance to explain himself. But that was Teresa's part! Had he been right to tell her? Carajo…Had he fucked the family up again, like he had done in Phoenix.

"Look James…I...had to…She needed to …" Pote stuttered as James hit him, just under the ribs.

Maybe I deserve this! The thought crossed Pote's mind as he doubled and staggered back, gasping from the blow. Maybe I should have first talked to him!

"Stop," Pote said, trying to get enough breath to talk as James hit him again, this time on the side of the jaw. That one hurt, a glancing blow that scraped the skin and left his jawbone throbbing.

Pote jerked back, regret turning rapidly to fury. This pendejo was taking it too far!

James swung at him again but missed as Pote ducked and whirled. Well, to fuck with good family relations, then!

Pote took a giant step backward, shrugging out of his jacket. To his surprise, James didn't come after him, but stood there, fists at his sides, waiting. The blood was drumming in Pote's ears. If it was a fight the pinche cabron wanted, that's what he'd get then.

Pote crouched, hands up and ready. He'd been taken by surprise, but he wouldn't be caught that way again. A trained sicario, he had been in his share of pub fights as a young man and the fact that James trained in his studio daily didn't even cross his mind.

Pote saw James's right arm, ducked and countered, felt his fist brush cloth as it passed his side and then the left arm, he hadn't seen, took him in the eye. Bloody stars and streaks of light exploded through the side of his head, and tears ran down his cheek as he launched himself at the other man, roaring.

That's when Kelly Anne's scream came out but Pote stayed focused. He hit James and despite the defense could feel his fists strike flesh, but it seemed to make no difference. Through his one sound eye, Pote could see that he had broken James's lip.

Pote swung, and James's face disappeared, then bobbed up again; he swung, grazing an ear. A blow struck him in the shoulder, he swung half around with it, recovered, and launched himself headfirst.

"I had no choice, cabron," Pote gritted between clenched teeth. He had his arms wrapped around James's body, felt the deep-sprung ribs give as he squeezed. He'd crack the pendejo like a nut. "Entiendes?"

Then James punched him in the back of the neck, a glancing blow, but hard enough to numb his left arm and shoulder. Pote let go his grip, hunched and drove his right shoulder hard into James's chest, trying to drive him off his feet. Some furniture was in the way and was broken in the process of being moved aside.

Kelly Anne's voice was coming from the side as James took a short step back and hooked Pote hard, but the blow struck his ribs, not the soft flesh below. James lowered his head and butted him, straight on; Pote flew backward and landed hard. Blood from his nose ran down his mouth and chin, with a sense of remoteness. He rolled to one side to avoid the kick he saw coming, but not far enough. As he rolled frantically the other way, it occurred to him, in a detached sort of way, that he should have remembered that James had spent every day of the last year training in physical combat.

Pote had got momentarily out of range. Gulping air, he rolled up onto his hands and knees.

Then the door swung open, Kelly Anne screamed again, and Pote hurled himself forward, noticing Teresa with his good eye.