While I’m wandering around, I come across a deserted desk. I snag a nurse’s purse and the ID she had sitting on top. I walk some more and, as I pass carts that are outside patients’ rooms, I grab syringes with needles and bottles, tucking everything away as I go. I get to the end of a hallway and find a secluded room where a man who looks to be asleep is hooked up to a bunch of monitors.
I sit in a chair next to the bed and tuck the backpack to my side, curling up next to it. My life is in this bag, and, if I lose it, I am as good as dead. I pass out not having another choice. My body is exhausted from the day I had, and the baby is wearing on me.
It feels like only minutes later that I hear whispers in the room. I open my eyes only to find two nurses talking to each other. They both turn and smile at me when they hear me moving. “Is he your husband?” one of them politely asks.
“No, I’m sorry, he is my boyfriend.” I look to the floor like I am ashamed. “I know I am not supposed to be in here, I just couldn’t stay away any longer.”
“I understand, but you must go before the doctor comes in.”
I hurriedly pick up my bag and find a restroom. After using the toilet, I wash my hands and splash some cold water on my face. I leave to go in search of a vending machine. My stomach is protesting, and the nausea takes hold even after a few bites of a granola bar. I sip on some water and push on.
I get startled when I hear a man crying in the hallway as his doctor explains that his wife has passed on. He’s a very old man and I’m sure she must have died of natural causes. An idea instantly sparks into my head and my feet move me instinctively to the underground floor.
A short and fat, chubby little man sits at his desk writing in a chart in the hospital morgue’s office. I sit down across from him and explain rather quickly what I’m asking of him. “I need you to get me across the border and this is how you are going to do it. Change the death certificate now and arrange the transport.”
I pause for a moment to see if he is going to argue. “We don’t have time to file so you are going to forge the document with a recent request and change the dates.”
The pudgy little fucker chuckles, “I don’t think you have the cash that I need in order to do this, so run along, little girl, and find a coyote to help you.”
“Don’t fucking play with me,” my voice drops low. I unzip my bag and pull out a roll of cash which I set in front of me, then I place the handgun next to it. “Do it now,” I demand.
The asshole gets to work; this is obviously not his first time. He pulls up and modifies the documents, then makes a call to an employee to come into work to make an emergency transport. After everything is set up, the man instructs the newcomer to get me across the border and drop me off in Texas.
I silently watch as they load a stretcher and body bag into the back of the ambulance. “If you are stopped, get in the bag and zip it up, or you’ll be caught for sure. I put a hook on the inside of the bag.” He says all this in a monotone voice, his mind detached from the words he speaks.
“Sí,” is all I say and move along with my driver. The fat pudgy fucker goes back to his office. “I need to use the restroom,” I smile nicely at the younger man I was left with.
“Knock on the cabin when you’re ready.” He gets inside the ambulance and starts the engine. I grab some gloves and pull them over my hands, then take the knife from my boot and quietly walk into the room where the pudgy fuck is sitting with his back to the door, holding a cell phone. Swiftly, I sneak in there and stab the motherfucker in the jugular from behind. He crumbles forward not ever seeing or hearing me coming.
I don’t know the number he was about to dial, but I assume it was to one of Matias’ street men. I get on his computer and wipe his hard drive with a few clicks. I walk out and, as I go, take off my gloves. I look around one more time to make sure no one has spotted me before stuffing them into a waste container.
After exiting the building, I jump into the back of the ambulance, shutting the door behind me. I loudly bang on the cab. The vehicle starts moving and I am on my way through Mexico City. I’m no idiot though. This asshole isn’t planning on taking me far. I rummage through the drawers of a built-in cabinet and find a small vile of epinephrine. I fill a syringe and carefully tuck it into my bra.
While I wait for this fucker to make his move, I pull up the laptop from my bag and insert the thumb drive. I wait for it to load, then start reading the files on it. The disgust I feel can’t be any more obvious at the actions of what my husband is involved with. He and his father have made millions off shipping children and women all over the world. Exporting them as goods to be sold.
My heart sinks and I want to kill each one of these assholes myself. But with the orders tallied up on the screen, that would be impossible.
The export of drugs is horrible enough, but the thought of the monster I loved and allowed into my body while he was willingly selling people, actual human beings, is horrifying to me.
My child will not do this, and there is only one way to achieve this. Kill his father along with his whole family, one by one.
I get lost in reading when I feel the tires hitting a bump on the road. I look outside through the small window on the back door and notice that we are headed toward a secluded back street. I close the laptop up and wait. The ambulance finally comes to a stop. The driver exits the vehicle and I hear his footsteps approaching the back. He opens it and steps inside.
“I need a break. You need the bathroom?” He’s asking me that, like he would let me get out to use the facilities but shuts the door behind him.
“I’m good, thank you.” I look at the floor and wait.
His slimy hand touches my face. “If you want to get across the border, you know what I want.”
I nod my head and stand, but I still don’t look at him. “Fuck, I want these tits and ass.” His hands run all over my body, and I allow it for the moment.
“Lie down?” I meekly squeak, “I’ll do it for you.”
Quickly, he lies down on the gurney, on top of the body bag. This pig really disgusts me. I climb on top of him, straddling his hips. He’s not a large man, thank God for that. We are closer in size and evenly matched.
His hands aggressively rip my shirt over my head, exposing my bra. I maneuver myself to bring my feet up to rest in between his legs. His hands claw at my partially exposed body. I reach around to what looks like me undoing my bra, but my hands grab the syringe which I hurriedly uncap. I need to make sure he is distracted though, so I continue grinding my hips down into his stiff little pecker.
He closes his eyes and moans, gripping my hips. Perfect timing. My hand lunges for his neck where I jam the needle deep and push the plunger while he screams. My toes pin his balls down and I shift up slightly to put more pressure against his throat. I hold tight through the thrashing and convulsing.
The needle hits the floor and I’m about to let go because the strain on me is almost too much. But I hold on to the bitter end even though my muscles protest and shake. Finally, he limply lies there and has stopped breathing. I hurry up and remove his pants and shirt, which are part of his uniform, then put them over my own clothes.
The driver now rides as the deceased in the back and I drive the ambulance the rest of the way over the border.
I show the guard there the nurse’s ID I swiped, along with the death certificate and transportation papers. He hesitates for a moment too long, so I hand out another roll of cash. He hands me back the documents and takes the cash before waving me through. He’s American and I am sure that he is also paid by the Cartel to report these things. Anyone can be bought for the right price, and I know that he’ll turn around and sell his secrets to any willing buyer, but I am over the border now and the air has never been so refreshing.
You see, the Hispanic people love a good story and a villain made into a hero of sorts. This is the story of how, I, Katherine Castillo, the Black Widow and Cartel princess became a Cursed Queen with no sou
l.
I am the wife of a Cartel boss who got pregnant and took off with his baby, leaving behind me a trail of blood. I went into hiding never to be seen again. The only woman or man to ever survive the betrayal and lies of a Cursed King to tell the tale.
That is if you can find me before I find you.
Chapter 15
Tank
Las Vegas, about three years ago…
Stryker called us into emergency Church.
“Blade, we need you and the boys up in Reno. Keep an eye on the sister MC, Nevada Knights. This whole situation feels like a fucking snake in the grass and I am going to kill every fucking asshole who helped Cobra.”
The room is thick with anger and loss, and nothing else needs to be said because the Prez has spoken and we know what he wants. Death.
At the break of dawn, we load our bikes and head up north with determination to never fail our Prez.
We take months traveling back and forth undetected, watching their men. Killing them off like wolves. Waiting for one man to wander away from his pack, and that’s when we would strike. Killing them cold and quick, then head back to report to Stryker.
With every report, he relaxes a little more but is never satisfied until we finally confirm that the Prez of the Nevada Knights MC was helping to transport in the sex trade. And Stryker loses it.
“I will drain that motherfucker myself.”
We may do dirty deeds, but women and children had and always will be off limits.
With the club’s numbers severely down, their Prez knew we were coming for him; it was just a matter of time.
Stryker, Mad Max, Blade, Axl, Spider and I travel up north, together this time.
Stryker kicks down the front door of the clubhouse and walks in with his pistol aimed in front of him, not even one of their members daring to try to stop us. All of them stand there with their hands raised high, and silent.
He finds their club Prez waiting for him in their club meeting room. Stryker, a force to be reckoned with, walks over without a word and shoots both of his arms up before he’s close enough to pistol whip him until he’s unrecognizable. Releasing pent up frustration and anger onto his face.
The man lies there limp, and Styker pushes the gun against his skull. Then pulls the trigger and blows a bullet clean through his head.
Blade, Axl and I brought in the rest of his men to watch what happens when you pussy out. We hold them at gun point, and, one by one, Stryker shoots each of them in the head. Except for two, Bear and Skid.
“You want to die like your brothers or are you going to pledge to me?” Stryker questions them.
“Pledge,” they say in unison.
“Clean this shithole up.”
Stryker clenches his teeth and signals us to follow him out back. He lights up the wood leftover on the firepit and tells us everything he wants carried out.
“Blade, you are going to take over this club with your men and be the man I made. Those two fuckups in there are going to lead you to head off the snake.” Stryker takes out a smoke and lights it up.
Blade takes one from him and lights up with his old man. “Whatever you need, you know me and the boys have it covered. Battle Born until we die,” he vows with assurance, and the three of us stand straighter behind Blade.
Stryker’s evil gleam looks over his son and each one of us with pride. “The next generation of Battle Born.” He nods and a hand clamps down on Blade’s shoulder. “You boys make me fucking proud. You will do what needs to be done.”
Stryker and Maddox head home after a few days and send a handful of men to move up here with us. We start reorganizing the club and I help Blade go over their financials, also scouring the bars for new members.
One night, within a few months of living there, I run into two cocky fucks in a bar fight, and I instantly like them. One of them I end up calling Pawn because he beat the fuck out of a man who tried to rip him off after a deal they made. The other we named Solo. Whenever shit needed done, he was the first to volunteer and would take off alone on any run.
Blade starts talking about looking around for a place after that for his tattoo shop with Axl, and calls in to Stryker who gives a recommendation of a place next to a bar called The Black Rose. How the fuck he knew of this place, I’ll never know, but the man keeps an eye on everything.
I still keep up the road trips, frequently heading down to Las Vegas to check in and hand over any collections to Stryker.
Business is fucking great, and anytime I get on the road, I feel at home.
Black Widow
For the months following, I lived on the streets of Los Angeles, breaking into vacation homes and staying for a week at a time. Until I applied for a part time job as a nanny for a very wealthy couple. Using my background as a “nurse”, I was easily swept into the family life. With my growing stomach and tales of a failed marriage, they took me in as their own and protected me. They helped a poor woman who was too terrified to stay alone because of an abusive ex-husband.
Through them, I met her sweet missionary sister who was unable to have children, and she became my midwife. The Hoffmans were very understanding when I left them to give birth and start over. Over the next few months, they helped me enough to hide and save some money.
What was left of my heart bled out completely when I left my son with Jane and her husband, Rick, about six months later. I kissed his soft head and inhaled his sweet scent before whispering, “Sometime in your life, I wish to hold you again, my sweet boy. I love you. Eli.”
My body shook as I handed him over to Jane and walked out the door before I took him and ran. That would’ve been suicide because I knew that if I was selfish enough to keep him, I would be signing his death warrant. Jane agreed to keep him for me while I got my shit together.
Honestly, I have no idea if I will make it back to him in time before he is grown up. I have no other choice but to trust her with my son. But I will always be watching. I have hidden cameras all over their home and bugged everything I could think of before I left.
Living with Matias, I learned a lot about the stock market and offshore accounts and helped him to manage several of our own. I know just the right amount to gain to stay undetected. The sweet missionary lady doesn’t realize I have stolen her identity online and have made her a very rich woman. One day I plan on paying her after I get my son back.
If not, and I fail, she’ll have enough money to take care of him. And, hopefully, Matias never finds him.
I fall back into the darkness; in the shadows, I go to work. Embracing the skills I had been taught my whole life. A killer, con artist or a businesswoman. If it’s shady, I’ve done it.
I start out small and find little assassin jobs while I learn the network in America and make a few allies along the way. My alias quickly became the Black Widow on the street and the tattoo of one on the inside of my wrist became my mark of a killer. Those in the trade, easily link the assassins to informants by their ink.
I’ve grown accustomed to the lonely life. I watch my son, Eli, from a screen every day when I can. He is on my mind both day and night. I carry him with me everywhere. I promised him I wouldn’t cry, and I won’t. But I turn into stone and take my pain out on the men and women that deserve to die. My agony is released with every kill, it becomes my obsession.
Right now, I watch a woman cross the street to a shithole of a crack house. Her boyfriend has been looking for her for over two years. His assumption was correct. The mother of his child began whoring out his twelve-year-old daughter for drugs.
Keeping my head down, I round the corner to the back and slip in through the unlocked door. I keep my back to the wall and creep around to where I find a middle aged, pudgy fuck molesting her daughter. He rubs her leg and promises to be gentle. The mother huffs in annoyance and puffs on her cigarette before shutting the door to the room and settling herself onto the couch where she turns the T.V. up.
Slowly, I pace my steps around the filth littered o
n the floor and the baby’s toys. Coming up behind the worthless woman, I pull the cord out from my pocket. I wrap it tightly around my black leather covered hands.
Quickly, I swing the cord up and over her head from behind, then pull back as hard as I can with all my weight into it. My knees dig into the couch and she bucks and chokes on her sobs of desperation that make me just want her dead even faster. Eventually, she slouches and relaxes into her fate.
I run over to the bedroom door and pocket the cord to pull out a handgun with a silencer. My hand quietly twists the door open enough to get the barrel through the crack and take aim. Bam. The gun goes off and I hit that pig in the back of the head. The young girl screams, and I take off out the back before she can see me. I go around the corner and take off in a sprint down the street.
Once I reach my car, I breathe and relax. Another job done and another job closer to the man I really want dead.
Matias.
Part two
“I’m going to love you softly and fiercely until the day you die, I promise you this.” Tank
Chapter 16
Black Widow
Las Vegas
The shot of tequila that’s sitting in front of me is taunting me to drink it and consume the poison that’s been a part of me for years already. The bartender throws me a smile from the other side of the bar. He doesn’t know that I left my husband behind a year ago. I pick up the glass and hold it to my lips.
I contemplate for a second if I can take this man for a wild ride full of passion for the rest of the night before I crawl back into the shadows. My cat eyes travel over his body from head to toe. He has a nice build and a pretty face.
Tossing back the shot, I find him watching me intently for a sign to invite him into my bed and my body. My tongue snakes out to lick up the liquid drop that’s rolling down from my top lip. He places two hands on the bar in front of him, and his eyes are mesmerized and caught in my web of seduction. His arms flex as he’s about to say something when, suddenly, another man slides into the stool next to mine.
Escaping From Forever: Tank & Kat's story, Part 1 (Battle Born MC Book 5) Page 8
