EL DIABLO II

by M. Robinson

  The task was easier said than done.

  The sound of a solitary shot resonated deep in my thoughts as if I was at the receiving end of the barrel. Her kidnappers were trying to prove a point. They wanted me to know they were in control, and I had no say in what the future held.

  For any of us.

  The only hope I had was to believe they were still alive or else what was the point in all this?

  What felt like an eternity later, the cab driver announced, “We’re here.”

  I didn’t recall getting off the plane or into this car. It was like I blacked out, moving in a trance-like state. I handed him a hundred-dollar bill before getting out of the vehicle hesitantly, scanning the neighborhood with precise precision. This community was much different than the last. It was the fucking suburbs.

  Million-dollar mansions.

  The house was massive. Several thousand square feet ascended to the dark night sky. The only light was coming off the moon, illuminating the pathway to my final destination. The last time I was in New York, a couple of months ago, wasn’t for Ari. I had a meeting with some suppliers for the run runners I was in charge of.

  There were a few cars parked in the long driveaway I spotted as I made my way up the cobblestone pathway. I was expecting to feel an intense, unbearable sense of rage for whatever was behind those doors.

  I didn’t.

  No weapons.

  No security.

  I surrendered.

  It was the only choice I had.

  With my hands in the air, I walked into the house announcing, “I’m here.”

  As I stepped in, I locked eyes with the piece of shit who took my wife. I was face-to-face with Vitale. He was leaning against the fireplace with a gun in his hand, resting casually by his side.

  “Welcome home,” he greeted with a sinister smile I wanted to slice clean off his face. His cheek sported a deep cut down the side.

  When he realized I noticed, he shrugged it off, declaring, “Your wife’s a cunt.”

  Feeling proud as fuck of her courage, I grinned. “That’s why I married her. She’s a Martinez now, after all.”

  He arched an eyebrow and smirked. “You and your sister are a lot alike. You both think your last name is a shield of defense, like I give a flying fuck who you are.”

  “You may not give a rat’s ass who we are now, but you sure as shit give a flying fuck about the man you work for, or you wouldn’t be standing in front of me giving me shit. He’s using you. You know that, right? You’re just his bitch.”

  “Coming from someone who used to be his father’s, it doesn’t mean much.”

  “I have everything you could possibly want. I can offer you money, power, the sky’s the limit. Just say the word and I’ll make it all yours.”

  “Is this where you tell me if I take allegiance with you, you’ll be my fairy godmother?”

  “This is where I tell you if you take allegiance with me,” I cocked my head to the side, looking him up and down with a serious expression, “I won’t fucking kill you.”

  “Hmm…” He lifted his gun to his temple, tapping it in a contemplating gesture before pointing it at me. “How about I tell you a story?”

  Narrowing my gaze at him, I was curious where he was going with this.

  “You grew up in your daddy’s house with money and protection. Prestige. Affection. Devotion from two loving parents. You lived a life of fucking fairy tales and happily ever afters. You wanted for nothing and asked for everything. Your cocky, arrogant attitude makes you a fucking prick. You walked into this world already at the top of the hierarchy, without having to prove yourself. It was handed to you by your daddy. You’re a trust fund baby who kills people in four thousand-dollar Armani suits, wearing a fucking Rolex, and Italian leather shoes. Give me a fucking break. You’re a wannabe gangster. Driving around in your sports car, thinking you’re the devil because it’s your legacy or some shit.” He shook his head, disgusted.

  “I was raised by a whore who let men stub their cigarettes out on my skin.”

  I jerked back, not expecting him to share this personal information with me. I wondered where he was going with this sob story.

  “No one wiped my ass, motherfucker. Everything I have is because I’ve earned it. I answer to no one. I do what I want, say what I feel. I don’t give two shits about what anyone thinks or has to say about me. I’m my own man and I rely on no one in this life. The day my mother was buried, I pissed on her grave and asked them to bury her deeper into the ground, so she’d be closer to Hell. Women are the root of all evil, and I learned that the first time she used me as her pawn to score drugs. So…” He grinned, waving his Glock around.

  “Mommy Dearest is the reason I have trust issues, I’m going to pass on your offer. But fuck you very much for assuming I’d take allegiance with a man I have yet to see do anything worthwhile. Your wife has bigger balls than you do.”

  “You trust the man you—”

  “I. Trust. No. One. Not even myself.”

  “Who are you then?”

  “Who am I?” he rasped in a mocking tone. “I’ve been trying to figure that out for the last twenty-eight years. My whole life is one big what the fuck, so spare me the psychoanalysis, dickwad. I know what you’re doing. It won’t work. You can’t pull your reverse psychology bullshit on me. I don’t want to be saved. In fact, I love being the villain,” he paused, letting his words sink in. “Now it’s time to go.”

  “Go where?”

  “Upstairs. Third room on your right. But first…” He grabbed the metal detector off the mantle. “I need to make sure you’re being a good little boy, following orders, and didn’t bring any toys.”

  I held my hands up in the air. “I have nothing on me.”

  “Then you won’t have a problem if I check.”

  While he was hovering the device over my body, I resisted the urge to knock him the fuck out. Instead, I glanced around the room taking stock of what was around me and controlling my instincts to put him in his place. His offensive verbiage didn’t mean shit to me. If anything, I wanted to prove him wrong. Show him what happens to the men who throw stones in glass houses.

  They fall.

  Hard.

  Fast.

  Into nothing but debris birds shit on.

  Shaking away the impulse, I focused on the furniture which was covered in plastic sheets. There were spiderwebs in almost every corner of the living room we were standing in. Dust covered every piece of furniture from the coffee table to the wall art, to the decorations spread throughout the vast space. At one point, someone lived here.

  Maybe a family?

  Chapter 41

  —Cruz—

  After Vitale was finished, he threw the sensor on the dusty couch, nodding toward the staircase.

  “Ladies first,” he baited.

  I held back any remarks and simply did as I was told. My family’s lives were on the line. Walking toward the stairs, I was ready to get this over with. With each step my heart accelerated a little faster, beating a little harsher. More demanding. Anxious for what was still to come. I took in my surroundings as I made my way up the tattered staircase, noticing the pictures on the walls were all coated in dust and cobwebs as well. I couldn’t see the people peeking through the haze of the frames to give me a clue to my whereabouts.

  One thing was for certain, no one had been here in a long ass time. However, I could feel the presence of the love that once existed in this home. The sentiment was neither here nor there, it didn’t matter anymore. When we reached the top of the stairs, I felt his gun dig further into my back.

  “I’m not packing. Are you that big of a pussy, you find the need to have your gun at my back? Can’t take me on like a man? You have to use a Glock to do your bidding?”

  “I’d rather use my cock but you’re not my type. I’ll just wait until I can use your sister’s pussy again and pound into her sweet cun—”

  My hand was around his throat, slam
ming him into the wall before he could complete his sentence. He laughed his ass off as drywall crumbled to our feet. I shoved him deeper into the surface. Silencing him.

  “You don’t speak about my sister ever again.” I got close to his face, gritting out, “Do you understand me?”

  He smiled. The gleam in his eyes lit up his whole face. He was enjoying this.

  Sick fucking bastard.

  The next thing I knew, his Glock was at the side of my head. Welcoming the refreshing feel of the cold metal against my heated flesh, I let him go.

  “This is why I prefer guns.” He adjusted his shirt. “They speak louder than any weak ass threat.”

  With that, he pistol-whipped me, but I caught myself on the wall. Using the momentum from my fall, my fist was cold clocking him in the face with so much force, it knocked him into the staircase railing. A loud crack let us know his weight almost broke it.

  Peering up at me through the slit of his eyes, he spit blood in my face. “We could do this all night, but your party’s waiting.”

  Wiping my cheek with the back of my hand, I asked, “Are Sienna and Ari in there?” I asked, needing to know. “My father?”

  “It’s a family fucking reunion. Now turn your ass around and keep walking.”

  I tried to govern my breathing, my blood boiled. Fuming with rage, I internally prayed, I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me, trying to calm myself down.

  Though it was useless. This felt like my execution. I was on death row. Guilty. Punished. Forever doomed for the sins I’d committed and allowed.

  “It’s showtime,” Vitale stated when I was standing in front of the closed door. “Let’s see what’s behind door number one. Shall we?”

  I reached for the knob and opened it, having no time to prepare for what I’d immediately witness. Even in the dim lighting of what appeared to be a girl’s bedroom, I could see my father’s cold, dark, murderous glare staring in the direction I hadn’t seen yet. Too consumed with the image of my father tied to a chair, beaten within an inch of his life. I could barely see his eyes, they were covered in so much blood.

  It was raw.

  Real.

  Excruciating torture.

  “I’m fine,” he claimed, not looking at me once.

  Unconsciously, I stepped in his direction, but Vitale threatened from behind me, “Don’t even fucking try it.”

  With a wide stare, my eyes tore from one nightmare to the next. Shifting my gaze to the path of his wrath, I loudly gasped, unable to hold in my emotions. Suffocating for my next breath.

  My chest tightened.

  All the blood drained from my veins.

  I was suddenly freezing cold.

  Bitter fucking cold.

  My feet were glued to the goddamn dirty floor beneath me. Dragging me straight into Hell, the devil wanted me home.

  Through the emotional chaos exploding around us, I found Ari and Sienna’s petrified stares. They were on their knees, hands tied behind their backs.

  Cheeks bruised.

  Hair disheveled.

  Blood dripping from their skulls.

  Fear radiating through every inch of their skin onto my flesh, becoming one with my dark soul.

  I panted, experiencing everything they were. At that moment, I didn’t need a gun, a knife, any weapon to kill me. Seeing the expression on their faces was enough to fucking end my existence.

  Our eyes stayed connected for several seconds. Fuck, it could have been hours. Time just sort of stood still. It wasn’t until my eyes lifted to the man holding them hostage with a gun in each hand, pointed at their heads.

  I didn’t think twice about it.

  I fell to my knees in front of him and begged for their lives, “Please.”

  Tears escaped my eyes, there was no hiding them. I’d never felt devastation quite like this. It was ripping me apart, crushing my bones, tearing me to shreds.

  One by one.

  I was a pile of ash.

  “Please,” I pleaded, unashamed. Willing to give him anything he asked for.

  My life for theirs.

  I thought I knew it all, seen it all, experienced it all.

  I was wrong.

  So. Very. Wrong.

  The man seethed, “I brought you back to your house, to your home, motherfucker!” Solely glaring at my father who had nothing but shame and regret written across his face.

  “This is where it all started. In this room. In this place. I was the good guy! The hero! Trying to warn her! I knew who and what you were! The fucking devil! I was right! All the women around you die! They all die! It’s a curse! You’re evil! No one deserves to live by your side, you piece of shit! But you couldn’t lose! You had to win! Sofia! Amari! Daisy! You destroyed them all! You killed your sister! How’s it feel to be in her room? Can you sense her? Feel her! Breathe her in? Tell me, motherfucker! Because I haven’t stopped thinking about her, feeling her in my heart, in my soul, since you took her from me! She was mine!”

  Nothing I’d faced…

  I’d done,

  Come to terms with…

  …Could have prepared me for what he shouted next. “She was my wife! My fucking wife! I loved her! And you killed her!”

  “Michael—”

  “Fuck you and your bullshit! I didn’t die, motherfucker! And I’ve been waiting! Oh God, have I been waiting! To find the right time to finally make you pay for what you did to me! Do you understand? Are you hearing me? It was never about you! Ever! You never gave a shit if you lived or you died until my baby girl, Lexi! I couldn’t kill my own flesh and blood! I’m not a monster like you! So I waited until I could take something from you that would truly destroy you!” His fury directed toward me.

  “My revenge is through you. I wanted you. The spawn of Satan! And now you’re going to have to choose. Who lives and who dies?”

  In the end, he didn’t have to kill me.

  His words did when he roared…

  “Your sister! Or your wife?”

  Chapter 42

  —Cruz—

  “Oh…this is good,” Vitale celebrated, walking into the bedroom.

  The vibration of his hands clapping together boomed off the old walls that held more memories of a young girl’s past.

  “This is the best shit I’ve seen all year. Honestly, this is award-winning shit right here. Let’s roll out the red carpet. It just keeps getting better and better. I didn’t know all of this. You—” he pointed his gun at Michael “—have been keeping secrets. I thought we were partners? Fucking teammates? You see…” He waved his Glock all around, completely unstable. “This is why I have trust issues. Nothing is sacred anymore. Nothing!”

  “Shut the fuck up,” Michael barked. “I gave you the girl. You had your fun. Now…it’s my turn.”

  Vitale’s eyes connected with Ari’s. “Does this mean I get to keep her?”

  “Over my dead fucking body,” Papá spewed.

  His beady eyes shifted toward him. “I can arrange that.”

  “Vitale!” Michael yelled. “This is between him and me. You’re not needed here anymore. You can go.”

  “Huh. Imagine that. Here I thought this was a lifelong commitment.” He eyed Ari again, looking at her with a predatory regard. “You want me here, don’t you, baby?”

  In less than a second, her gaze shot from his to mine, then landing on our fathers.

  “Adriana’s been through enough,” Sienna spoke up with a strong, demanding voice. “She doesn’t need to answer anyone. Especially you.”

  Vitale grinned at my wife with an ominous stare. She didn’t back down, holding her head high in a challenging defiance.

  “You really are something else,” he rasped, taking her in.

  It was too much, every second of this bullshit. I exploded.

  It was loud.

  Harsh.

  Boom!

  I charged him, ramming my shoulder as hard as I could into the man I
fucking despised. Attacking him with everything I had left in me for what he’d done to my sister, and now to my wife.

  Our family.

  The women’s screams echoed off the ceiling.

  His back hit the wall with so much force, it broke through the drywall into the next room. We tumbled to the ground, each of us trying to get the upper hand on the other.

  Punch to his ribs.

  Fist to my face.

  Knee to his balls.

  “Get the fuck up!” Michael ordered, shooting a bullet in our direction. It whizzed past our faces into a nearby television.

  I stood up, kicking him one more time. Unable to resist it. He doubled over, coughing up blood.

  “Who’s the bitch now, motherfucker?” I spit on him.

  Another shot fired in our direction, this time it nicked my right arm. I turned around and locked eyes with Sienna, who knew why I reacted in the first place. If I caught him looking at my wife again, I’d end him.

  “I won’t beat a man within an inch of his life for coming onto you in my presence, Sienna. I’ll put a bullet in between his fucking eyes. You’re mine. Even if I have to kill to prove it to anyone who doesn’t realize you’re my wife. Your last name is your protection and if someone wants to disrespect the sanctity of that, then I’m going to make them meet their fucking maker.”

  My words from two nights ago displayed across her beautiful gaze as if I was saying them in this moment. She frowned when she realized I knew what she was thinking.

  Remembering our evening together.

  I silently prayed I’d get to hold her in my arms again, except if God heard my prayers, I’d make love to her this time. In my own way.

  Slow.

  All night long.

  She was the first to break our connection, looking at the ground, reacting to and feeling what I was.

  My complete devotion to her.

  The piece of shit stood, digging his gun in my back again.

  “Vitale,” Michael declared. “You need to go.

  “Naw.” He shook his head, shoving me back into the center of the room in front of Michael. “I don’t like being told what to do, so I’ll stay. Besides, I want to see how this all turns out. If you don’t kill him, I sure as fuck will.”