Queen of Hearts

Atimer shrills, and I grab my pie dough from the fridge. Dusting Lola’s tiny counter with flour, I drop the dough with a thwop, making Lola and Cato laugh as they sit on the loveseat and watch me. My yellow shorts and tank top pajamas are already covered in flour.

“Why have you decided to grace us with your presence tonight?” I ask, pointing my rolling pin in Cato’s direction. They grin, and wave me off, their many bangles jingling as they do. Tonight, they look a little more masculine, wearing a black fitted T-shirt, ripped blue jeans and thick leather wrist cuffs. Their long hair is braided at the sides and pulled back into a messy bun.

Lola slaps their arm playfully, before pulling them into a hug. “Yeah, I thought it was risky to socialize with us too much.”

Cato nuzzles Lola’s shoulder. “I have gossip and I thought it might help your little vendetta.”

I roll the dough, turn it and roll again. Repeating the process until I’m happy. Sliding my hands underneath, I carefully lift the sweet pastry sheet and line my pie tin. My cherry filling is already simmering away on the stove with so much sugar, I can feel my teeth ache, but that’s how Lola likes it.

“Spill,” Lola says, nudging Cato before offering them some chips out of the giant bag she’s been nursing for the last hour. She’s had an awful shift at work, and is currently drowning her sorrows in carbs, cheap white wine and her baggy-holey pajamas. Hence, the pie.

Taking a handful of the tortilla chips, Cato looks at both of us, eyes wide, mouth pursed as they say, “The Cartel have blocked the Bolivian imports. The Family are about to run into some serious trouble pushing White Rabbit until it’s resolved.”

That was Julian’s current money-maker, and an attempt to clean up the streets in a manner of speaking. However, if there’s no supply…there’s no money. No money, no power. No control. His Captains would have something to say about this, probably condemning him for trying something new and then for being weak enough that another gang feels like they can encroach.

“The Mexican cartel?” Lola repeats, dunking her chips into the open tub of salsa next to her wine.

Cato does the same. “Yeah, except they’re just calling themselves The Cartel.”

I snort, so not only were they foolish for goading The Family, but they also lacked the originality to come up with something better for their gang’s name. They were wannabe’s who were just looking to stir the pot.

“Brave of them to make moves like this, who’ve they got on the inside?” I ponder aloud as I pour the pie filling into the base and begin latticing the top. It’s strange that they’re finally making their move when there are waves within The Family, almost like they have insider knowledge. “There’s always a traitor, somewhere. They just need to be weeded out.”

Cato simply grins, which means that’s all we’re going to get out of them for tonight. In a city where knowledge was power, I didn’t blame them for making sure they were taken care of. It was a dog-eat-dog world out there.

“I wonder how Julian’s going to handle this?” Lola says, face thoughtful. “What would you do, if it were you?”

Drinking some of their wine, Cato nods. “One day it will be, and you’ll have to give those orders.”

“The Cartel currently occupies Meadowville, right?” I’m thinking out loud, not actually expecting an answer from either of them as I brush an egg wash over the pie, and pop it in the oven. “So, they’re trying to expand more into the city in order to reach more clients and access our docks. Not forgetting our trading routes through Port Ellesmere and Silvercrest.”

“Okay,” Lola says slowly.

“So, I’d focus my energy on re-establishing my supply chain, I mean White Rabbit is double the quality and a decent price. Who’s going to choose their toxic shit, mixed with God-knows what over that?” I set the timer on the oven, and take a swig of my wine, leaning back against the counter. “And while I’m at it, I’d get the Feds involved. Apply a little heat so The Cartel is preoccupied covering their asses and keeping their noses out of Family business. Then I’d send them a message. A big, bloody, gruesome one cutting them off at the knees.”

Cato’s mouth drops open as I smile wickedly at them. Turning to Lola, they look mildly disturbed as they shiver and pretend to bury their face in Lola’s neck, hiding from me. “How can she say that so sincerely while baking a cherry pie like a little housewife?”

Lola just tosses her head back and laughs. “Because she’s terrifying?”