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Back This Side of Night
Chapters (110)
  1. Cover
  2. ALSO BY J. TODD SCOTT
  3. Dedication
  4. Epigraph
  5. PROLOGUE
  6. I
  7. II
  8. PART ONE
  9. ONE
  10. TWO
  11. THREE
  12. FOUR
  13. FIVE
  14. SIX
  15. SEVEN
  16. EIGHT
  17. NINE
  18. TEN
  19. ELEVEN
  20. TWELVE
  21. PART TWO
  22. THIRTEEN
  23. FOURTEEN
  24. FIFTEEN
  25. SIXTEEN
  26. SEVENTEEN
  27. EIGHTEEN
  28. NINETEEN
  29. TWENTY
  30. TWENTY-ONE
  31. TWENTY-TWO
  32. TWENTY-THREE
  33. TWENTY-FOUR
  34. TWENTY-FIVE
  35. TWENTY-SIX
  36. TWENTY-SEVEN
  37. TWENTY-EIGHT
  38. TWENTY-NINE
  39. THIRTY
  40. THIRTY-ONE
  41. THIRTY-TWO
  42. THIRTY-THREE
  43. THIRTY-FOUR
  44. THIRTY-FIVE
  45. THIRTY-SIX
  46. THIRTY-SEVEN
  47. THIRTY-EIGHT
  48. THIRTY-NINE
  49. PART THREE
  50. FORTY
  51. FORTY-ONE
  52. FORTY-TWO
  53. FORTY-THREE
  54. FORTY-FOUR
  55. FORTY-FIVE
  56. FORTY-SIX
  57. FORTY-SEVEN
  58. FORTY-EIGHT
  59. FORTY-NINE
  60. FIFTY
  61. FIFTY-ONE
  62. FIFTY-TWO
  63. FIFTY-THREE
  64. FIFTY-FOUR
  65. FIFTY-FIVE
  66. FIFTY-SIX
  67. FIFTY-SEVEN
  68. FIFTY-EIGHT
  69. FIFTY-NINE
  70. SIXTY
  71. SIXTY-ONE
  72. PART FOUR
  73. SIXTY-TWO
  74. SIXTY-THREE
  75. SIXTY-FOUR
  76. SIXTY-FIVE
  77. SIXTY-SIX
  78. SIXTY-SEVEN
  79. SIXTY-EIGHT
  80. SIXTY-NINE
  81. SEVENTY
  82. SEVENTY-ONE
  83. SEVENTY-TWO
  84. SEVENTY-THREE
  85. SEVENTY-FOUR
  86. SEVENTY-FIVE
  87. SEVENTY-SIX
  88. SEVENTY-SEVEN
  89. SEVENTY-EIGHT
  90. SEVENTY-NINE
  91. EIGHTY
  92. EIGHTY-ONE
  93. EIGHTY-TWO
  94. EIGHTY-THREE
  95. EIGHTY-FOUR
  96. EPILOGUE
  97. I
  98. II
  99. III
  100. IV
  101. V
  102. VI
  103. VII
  104. AUTHOR’S NOTE
  105. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  106. Excerpt from LOST RIVER
  107. LITTLE PARIS
  108. DILLON
  109. ABOUT THE AUTHOR
  110. What’s next onyour reading list?

He wanted no threat of heirs, no sons or daughters of his own, who might ever tear him down.

—

HE SIPPED A CHILLED GLASS OF LOUIS ROEDERER, the setting sun turning the sea a thousand different colors; the colors of the legions of brightly hued fish that swam below. From his room he could see the towering cruise ships, as well as ugly gray navy ships that he couldn’t name, since Manzanillo was also the base for the Fuerza Naval del Pacífico. He wondered how many of the marines chasing his father had stared out over the same water, watched these same sunsets. His father had never come here, had never seen this place. It was possible he’d never seen the ocean with his own eyes.

What was he looking at now?

Where are you, Father?

He was still lost in thought when Xavier came up out of the darkened suite behind him, a room lit only by the lights of three laptop computers and six charging phones. Xavier was twenty-one or twenty-two, looked even younger shirtless. His skin was smooth, flawless. He was wearing silk shorts and his hair was still a bird’s nest from the bed.

He had one of Martino’s phones in his hand.

“It has been insistent,” he said, handing the still-buzzing phone to Martino, who exchanged the glass of champagne for it.

“Go inside, Xavier, get ready. We have reservations soon. There is a suit for you in the closet, the white one. With the red shirt. Choose no other.”

If Xavier had a complaint, he did not voice it. He finished Martino’s glass of champagne and disappeared back into the room. He wanted to be a singer but had a horrible voice, although he had many, many other talents. He was from Poncitlán or Jamay, Martino could not remember which, and it did not matter; Xavier had traveled several times to the United States, which at least had made for more interesting conversations.

Martino checked the phone, scrolling through a series of messages via WhatsApp.

He read them, read them again, and almost laughed out loud.

—

THREE DAYS BACK HIS MEN had finally tracked down Gualterio, holed up in Saucillo of all places.

They took him without incident. He became cooperative, though, only after they tortured Gualterio’s favorite nephew, Juan Daniel, who’d been traveling with him. They did it in front of him, with pliers and a hammer, making him watch it all. Trusting the fat pig after what Martino had done at Manuel Benavides was an impossibility; long as he lived, he would be a significant threat. He had his share of loyalists, too, and had made contingency plans of his own throughout the years. Martino suspected that if he hadn’t moved against his father with the Serranos’ help, Gualterio would have eventually done it on his own.

He was a pig, and a pig always wanted the whole trough to itself.