by M. Robinson
After giving her my gift and saying goodbye, I made it a few blocks down the road before slamming on the brakes, skidding across the wet pavement when I remembered I still had her doll, Yuly. There was no way in hell I was going to take Yuly away from her too. I turned the car around with a heavy heart and a guilty conscience. Silently praying I wouldn’t have to see her beautiful face again.
Knowing I probably would.
My thoughts were as relentless as I was from making her mine last night. I needed to slow the fuck down, I needed to put an end to the speed I was driving, but I couldn’t do it. The adrenaline of what I wanted to feel started to kick in.
The high.
I rode the euphoria, needing something, anything other than what I was feeling.
Fucking misery.
Emptiness.
Darkness.
Engulfing. Me.
Burying me fucking alive.
Faster and faster and faster I sped.
A hundred and ten miles per hour…
One fifteen…
“What are you doing, Damien?” she breathlessly asked, licking her lips like she was preparing them for me.
“I have no fucking idea, Muñeca,” I admitted, leaning in close to her mouth. “I never do with you.”
“It’s me, Muñeca. I need to see what’s always been fucking mine.”
“Amira,” I huskily groaned in a voice I’d never heard before. “Open your eyes. I need you to look at me while I’m looking at you.”
“Damien, I’m—”
“I’ve never wanted anything as much as I want you, Muñeca.”
“Then take me.”
I swear I didn’t know she was still a virgin. It wasn’t until I felt every fucking inch of her pussy on my cock when I knew I was once again stealing another piece of her that should have never belonged to me. I hid my face in the nook of her neck, knowing I should have stopped, put an end to us before we even got started, but every last piece of my mind and body refused to let her go.
She. Was. Mine.
It was beyond my control, she had always been beyond my fucking control, so I pretended as if this was another time, another life, one where she and I could be together.
Forever.
Where there was no past eating me fucking alive and no future where we were doomed.
Where only she and I existed.
A happily ever after.
One that would never be.
At least not for me…
Never. For. Me.
“I’m so fucking in love with you, Muñeca, so fucking in love.”
I lost count of how many times I said those words to her while deliberately making her feel everything I could never say with my words.
A hundred and twenty-five miles per hour…
One thirty…
I didn’t control my destiny last night, the woman in front of me did. I took, and took, and took some more. Until there was nothing left for me to take.
My car started to shake, and before I gave it another thought I slammed my foot down on the accelerator till the pedal hit the ground. The vibration from the motor rumbled through me, making the hairs on my arms stand at attention. I suddenly felt cold all over, chills running down my spine and through me. I didn’t even know where I was going until I rounded another hill and saw the everlasting beauty in front of me. Cocking my head to the side, I white-knuckled the steering wheel, emitting a new high I had yet to experience. Resting my head back against the headrest, I let it take over.
My thoughts were now bleeding off of me, right onto the cliff I was speeding up on.
A hundred and thirty miles per hour…
One thirty-five…
I sucked in deep breaths, heaving for air. My heart beating so fucking hard, I thought the pounding would knock me over the edge from the force of my own rage. I closed my eyes to allow fate to run its course.
And then…
My cell phone suddenly went off, jolting me back into the reality I’d created.
“FUCK!” I slammed on the brakes, skidding across the pavement. Causing my car to spin out of control, whipping around into several three-sixties along with all our memories tossing and turning as I just held on with wide eyes. All I could smell was rubber, gasoline, and my own fucking fear. Seeing tears falling from Amira’s eyes as she stood above my grave at my funeral. Vanishing into the trees and the air surrounding me as my car abruptly stopped, forcefully yanking my body with it.
I couldn’t move. I just sat there in a state of shock, looking out over the city with the hood of my car inches from going over the edge of the cliff. My chest was rising and falling, gasping for my next breath.
My next anything.
“Holy fuck,” I breathed out, heaving. Quickly realizing what could have been.
My phone beeping from the floor of the passenger seat brought my attention to the missed call that put an end to my rush.
There was silence.
No more thoughts.
Words.
Memories.
As my eyes locked with the name on the screen for the person who just saved my fucking life…
Without even knowing it.
ONE
DAMIEN
Later that night, I was leaning against the hood of his car, smoking a cigarette, when they walked out through the back exit of the building around ten o’clock. It was one of the many secured properties he owned, with no one else around the vicinity for miles. Just the way he fucking liked it.
“Damien, what are you doing here?” Salazar questioned, caught off guard by my presence.
I didn’t waver, calmly responding, “I fucking missed you,” through a billow of smoke.
He chuckled, shaking his head before nodding to his guards. “Get her out of here. Go wait for me in the car.”
I pushed off his vehicle, watching as Pedro opened the back door of the car for her to step in. My eyes locked with a pair of emerald green eyes for a few seconds. Her sultry stare telling me everything I needed to know before she bowed her head, getting into his car.
“I’m actually glad you’re here,” Emilio stated, bringing my attention back to him. “We need to talk.”
“So talk.” I casually slid my free hand into my pocket while taking another drag from my cigarette. We walked toward my car parked at the end of the dimly-lit lot.
“I got the Feds on my ass, Damien. These motherfuckers just won’t lay off. I need you to do some ground work for me. Find out everything you can about these pieces of shit and what they know. They’re sniffing around everywhere, and I need to know what fucking dogs to put down. It’s not just them though, I think someone’s running their mouth to the enemy.”
“You think or you know?”
“I don’t know shit, and you know how much I fucking hate not knowing. Have you heard anything?”
“I’m always hearing shit,” I declared, stifling a laugh.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Did I stutter? I don’t know, Emilio. You tell me.”
He turned to face me when we got to my car, narrowing his eyes with a questioning glare I’d seen one too many times, but at this point he had to know I didn’t give a fuck. “What’s gotten into you, eh? Just find out who they are and bring me their fucking heads. Do you understand me? No one betrays me and lives to tell about it. You’re the only one I trust, Damien.”
I cocked my head to the side, taking another long, deep drag off my cigarette. Letting the smoke linger in my mouth. “Could have fucking fooled me,” I exhaled.
“What are you—”
“So tell me, Salazar? Did you think I wouldn’t have found out?” I asked, grinning. Completely changing the subject. “Come on, old man. I thought we were family. I’m the son you always wanted and never had,” I mocked in a sarcastic tone, throwing his words back at him.
“Damien, don’t play fucking games with me. Mean what you say and say what you mean.” He stepped forward, getting right u
p in my face. “Now talk!”
I smiled. “Who said I wanted to talk, when I’m so fucking good at playing games. Maybe I should start by saying congratulations. You got what you wanted, what you’ve always wanted. Too bad it had to be your side piece and not your wife to finally give it to you.”
He jerked back, understanding my not so subtle accusation.
“I find out everything, Emilio. It’s how you made me. Including what the girl waiting in your car means to you. So, I’ll ask you again. Did you think I wouldn’t have found out?”
He sighed in disbelief.
“That’s what I fucking thought.”
“Listen, it’s—”
“Not what I think? So, tell me then, what the fuck am I thinking?”
Sweat began to bead on his forehead as he contemplated his response. Rubbing the back of his neck, clearly nervous as fuck. I resisted the urge to laugh in his face when he concluded, “You’re hurt because I kept something from you. That wasn’t my intention, son. What do you want me to say? I have to protect her, you know more than anyone how things are.”
I deliberately took my sweet ass time eyeing him up and down.
Watching.
Waiting.
Fucking calculating my next move.
“Who are you protecting her from? Or better yet, why are you protecting her? Everyone, including your wife, knows you fuck whores. So, try again.”
His expression instantly turned heated. “She’s not a whore, and don’t you ever fucking call her one again.” Looking me dead in the eyes, he added, “I love her.”
“Well fuck, that changes things, doesn’t it?” I scoffed, shaking my head. “Who would have thought, you of all men would fall in love with a girl young enough to be your daughter. I mean, she’s young. Even for you, old man. But that’s the point, isn’t it?” I took a few more long, deep puffs of my cigarette, blowing out the smoke rings into the thick air of the night. For one reason or another, the space between us suddenly seemed smaller. “She’s pretty, I’ll give you that. Not a bad fucking lay either. Her pussy did squeeze the fuck out of my cock, but goddamn, she can suck dick like a fucking pro.”
Before I got the last word out, he forcefully slammed me against the hood of my car. “Who the fuck—”
I laughed, I couldn’t help it. As much as I was enjoying the shit show, I needed to put an end to it. Placing my hands out in front of me in a surrendering gesture, I nodded to him. “Jesus Christ, man. Relax, I’m fucking with you!”
He glared at me, still unsure of where I was going with all of this. Watching my every move with a guarded stare.
“I’m just looking out for you. It’s part of my job. To keep you safe, remember? You want to bring her into this life? Then you better learn how to hide those fucking emotions. I can see right through you. I can see her behind your eyes. I can feel her coursing through your fucking bloodstream. It’s pouring the fuck out of you. She’s your weakness, and she will be your fucking death sentence. What has gotten into you, eh? She would be the first thing I would use against you if I were your enemy, so get your shit together. Start acting like the man I know and not the pussy-whipped bitch standing in front of me. It’s not a good fucking look.”
“Shit…” he breathed out, grabbing me by the lapels of my jacket. “You’re right about one thing. It is part of your job to keep me safe. That’s it! I’m not weak, if anyone goes as far as looking at her the wrong way, let alone touching a hair on her goddamn head, so help me God, I will murder them and everyone they have ever loved right in front of them and then I’ll cut their fucking heads off! Do I make myself clear? By protecting me, you are protecting her.” He shoved me. “Now, fuck off and go do what I’m paying you to do. I want heads, Damien. Get the fucking Feds off my back, now!” He turned around and started to walk back toward his car.
Toward her.
I didn’t think twice about it, speaking with conviction, “You once told me the only way to make a man pay for his sins… is always through the ones he loves the most.”
He stopped dead in his tracks before he slowly spun back around. Facing me once again.
“And I’m not talking about her. We both know you don’t give a flying fuck about the woman,” I paused, allowing my words to sink in. Taking one last long drag of my cigarette, I exhaled, “I’m talking about him.”
His eyes widened, and it was the first time I ever saw true fear pass through his dark, cold, devious goddamn eyes. I wanted to remember this moment, this second, this man standing in front of me, just like this.
Vulnerable.
Exposed.
Fucking terrified.
There was no way in hell he would ever forget the next words that came out of my mouth.
“Your unborn son, the one your whore is carrying.”
What occurred in the next few seconds happened so fast, yet it played out in slow motion. I flicked my lit cigarette to the ground beside him, causing a domino effect. A sudden burst of light lit up the dark space when the fire met the line of gasoline laced from my car to his. Followed by a quick sizzling sound, echoing through the empty parking lot.
“NOOOOO!” Salazar bellowed an ear-piercing scream resonating deep in my core, right as his car exploded like a bomb had gone off. Jerking us both back from the force of the detonation.
I swear I heard the woman’s scream before the initial blast, knowing she was about to burn. Pedro’s body was thrown on impact, causing his immediate death. While shards of glass and steel ricocheted off the metal dumpsters and siding. The windows of the building shattered from the pressure and chaos as flames laced the sky. When the fire reached the gas tank, a second explosion sparked, lifting the car off the ground and slamming back down, making the pavement beneath our bodies shake. Triggering car alarms to go off in the distance.
By the time we got to our feet, it was too late. Emilio was so dazed trying to figure out what just happened. His car was engulfed in flames and burning debris. Particles of glass rained down on us, deflecting off the asphalt as more pieces of his car fell steadily around us. A dark plume of smoke billowed off the vehicle as an endless stream of havoc and destruction filled the parking lot. The smell of human flesh mixed with the scent of gasoline and melting metal assaulted our senses. Consuming Emilio with sorrow and desperation from what had just happened.
Exactly what I wanted him to feel.
“You motherfucker!” In two-seconds-flat he yanked his guns out from his holsters, and I didn’t have to question his intensions.
He wanted blood.
Mine.
I hauled ass as soon as bullets began to fly by my face, one right after another. Throwing my body—head first—under my car, catching a bullet in my arm. I ignored the sharp, throbbing pain coursing through my core as I rolled to the driver’s side to seek cover behind my car. Emilio only ever carried two Glocks on him with a standard magazine capacity of nine rounds in each. He never needed more than one bullet with the arsenal of guards around him at all times. Right now, he was so fucking trigger happy to have my head, he wasn’t considering he’d be out of bullets soon.
I unbuckled my belt and whipped it out of the loops of my jeans, pulling it off and using it as a tourniquet on my arm to stop the bleeding. It didn’t take long to hear the clicks of the hammers hitting the empty chambers on his guns, revealing he was out of ammunition.
“Goddamn!” I yelled, standing. Laughing in his face. Riding the high of pure adrenaline.
He peered up at me through the slits of his eyes, conscious of the fact I just murdered his pregnant whore. It was his moment of truth, probably the first one in his miserable fucking life.
“I always wanted to do that. You know,” I shrugged, “It gets a little old taking the lives of people the same way, so fucking boring compared to blowing shit up. It’s good to spice things up too, keeps things interesting. I mean, did you see your car explode? Phew… now that’s some good fucking shit!”
His chest heaved, and his
eyes burned. I’m sure all he saw was fucking red. Rage couldn’t even come close to describing how he felt. It took over every last fiber of his being.
“Oh, I’m sorry. Where are my manners?” I coaxed, shaking my head. Cunningly grinning. “I’m not sorry for your loss.”
His beady eyes widened, and his mouth parted as he white-knuckled the guns at his sides. I calmly placed my hands in my pockets, walking over to him. The soles of my boots burned as soon as they crossed the imaginary line that had always been between us. I moved on autopilot like a man possessed, and in a way, I was. I had been my entire life. I could physically feel the weight of the shackles around my ankles with each step I took, dragging them right along with me. Except, I willingly chose the chains I wore. They were just another part I added to my battle scars, clinking through life together.
Tied to memories.
Regrets.
Mistakes.
My life.
Every step I took until I reached my final objective, reminded me of the imprisoned life I never wanted. The life that chose me nonetheless.
One foot in front of the other.
Four steps.
Three steps.
Two steps.
One.
I stopped right in front of him. There would be no more bullshit lies for him to spew, no more orders for me to follow, at least not anymore.
“Out of bullets, eh? I know you better than you know yourself.” I pulled out my gun and aimed it at his heart. “If I shoot you, will you even bleed?”
“Fuck you, you son of a bitch! I trusted you! I have given you everything,” he gritted out through a clenched jaw. “And this is how you repay me?! I will have your fucking head for this, Damien! Even if it means I have to come back from the grave, you motherfucker!”
Cocking my head to the side, I stared him dead in the eyes. “What was today’s checkup? Well, let’s see… last week you found out the baby has a dick, so that would make today confirmation that she is indeed carrying your Satan-fucking-spawn, right? Could never be too sure with a whore.”
He growled, stepping toward me, and I aimed my gun over his heart once again. “Tsk, tsk, tsk. Your temper, Emilio, it’s going to be the end of you,” I mocked the same words back at him that he used on me one too many fucking times. “You didn’t give a flying fuck about her, all you wanted was the baby. Your son. You were going to kill her yourself after she gave birth to your demon. She was a means to an end for you, exactly like she was for me.” I smiled. “Kind of sad to see those dick-sucking lips burn. I wasn’t lying when I told you she could suck a mean fucking cock.”
