Chapter 6 - The Rat in the Corner
Javier Robles sat in the dark of his high-rise apartment in Victory Park, surrounded by empty boxes of takeout and three half-empty bottles of expensive tequila. The tailored suits he loved so much were strewn across the hardwood floor like discarded skin.
His phone lay on the glass coffee table, its screen constantly flashing with notifications from his firm’s human resources department, the state licensing board, and the vehicle leasing company that had just sent a notice that his Porsche Panamera was scheduled for repossession on Wednesday morning.
The door to his apartment opened with a violent slam, and Carmen walked in. Her mink coat was missing, replaced by a simple trench coat that looked damp and stained. Her silver hair was unkempt, and her heavy gold rings were gone—she had spent the morning trying to liquidate her jewelry at a wholesale dealer in North Dallas to pay the retention fee for a criminal defense attorney.
"They took the Irving yard, Javier," Carmen said, her voice shaking with a manic, high-pitched energy. "The gates are locked. There are private security guards with dogs standing at the main entrance wearing the Arden patch. They won't even let my managers into the office to get the payroll ledger!"
Javier didn't look up from his glass. "It’s over, Mom. The firm fired me three hours ago. They’re forwarding my city contract files to the federal prosecutor’s office. I’m going to prison. We’re both going to prison."
"No!" Carmen shouted, rushing over to him and grabbing his shoulders, her fingers digging into his skin. "We are not going down for that little white trash girl! You are a lawyer, Javier! Find a loophole! Call your uncle! Tell him Alexander Arden is using political influence to steal our private property!"
"My uncle won't take my calls!" Javier screamed, throwing his glass against the wall, where it shattered into a hundred small shards of gold glass. "He knows what Alexander did to the last city councilman who tried to cross him! Arden doesn't just have money, Mom—he has the banks! He has the whole state infrastructure! We thought we were robbing a lonely girl with a rich dad who didn't care about her. We didn't know we were walking into a meat grinder!"
He collapsed back onto the leather sofa, his head in his hands, his tears dark against his wrinkled shirt. "She didn't even sign the paper. If she had just signed the condo over, we could have cleared the lien and he wouldn't have noticed until the wedding was over—"
"She will sign it," Carmen whispered, her eyes turning small and dark, like two pieces of charcoal under a dying fire.
Javier looked up, his panic freezing. "What are you talking about? There’s a protective order, Mom. If we go within a mile of her or Elena, the state troopers will pick us up on sight."
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"The protective order is for us, Javier," Carmen said, reaching into her pocket and pulling out a small, disposable burner phone. "But it doesn't apply to the people who owe me money from the Irving docks. The men who handle the alternative fuel delivery. They don't care about Alexander Arden’s name. They only care about the five kilograms of uncut silver bullion I have hidden in my cellar."
She leaned down, her face inches from her son’s. "We don't need the condo anymore, Javier. We need survival. If Alexander Arden wants his daughter back in one piece, he’s going to sign a full corporate release for our warehouses and our trucks. And if he doesn't... we’ll send him what’s left of her hair."
