by M. Robinson
As soon as he pulled the gun out of my mouth, the door to the hidden exit was abruptly kicked open. The metal gate practically ripped off the hinges, ricocheting off the stone. I Never expected to see those familiar eyes staring back at me.
Damien.
Everything then proceeded in slow motion. I’d never forget the look in his eyes as he took in my battered face, trailing down to the gun thrusting in and out of my mouth, to the hand splayed over my throat, down to my disheveled body and torn gown. It was that exact moment we were both held captive by the memories that would haunt us forever. Catapulted through life to the first time we ever met, except Damien was the man holding my sister hostage, and I was the one watching from afar.
The next few seconds played out in my mind resembling a reel from an old movie. The glimpses of the black and white images were clear as day, even though the stills were hazy. Nonetheless, they were timeless pieces that would carve a way into my heart and mind, where I would never be the same again. Making it a memory neither one of us could ever forget, even if we wanted to.
They were permanent.
Exactly like our past.
TWENTY-THREE
AMIRA
I shook my head, shouting an ear-piercing scream that resonated from deep within my lungs. Echoing off the domed ceiling and cement walls. Vibrating inside my core. “DAMIEN, NO!”
As he simultaneously pulled the trigger and all hell broke fucking loose. A bullet struck Vinny’s brother in the chest, causing him to stagger and fall. Dragging me down with him, becoming one with the ground.
More gunshots.
More bullets.
More chaos erupted all around me.
I shoved his body off mine, yanking the gun from his hands, and went to fucking town on anyone wearing a black ski-mask.
My eyes blurred.
My vision tunneled.
Darkness drew me in and out.
Time stood still, or maybe it moved faster. Everything blended together. Nothing made sense. I was there, but I wasn’t. It all sounded the same—the panic, the voices, the lives that were being taken. Collapsing to the ground one right after the other.
Was it my bullets or theirs?
That was when I noticed Vlad, his two guards, and what appeared to be his fighter, Noah, also in the room. Laying men out. Bullets ricocheting off everything—the floor, the walls, the ceiling. Everyone seeking shelter in the shadows as best as they could, avoiding the proverbial downpour of gunshots. For some reason, my mind contemplated who were the bad guys and who were the good ones.
We were no better than them.
I was no better than them.
“Amira, behind you!” I heard the desperation in Damien’s voice from somewhere in the open space, and I dropped to the ground, rolling under a nearby table. Immediately shooting back.
Damien was a few feet away, taking shot after shot at the men opening fire on me. Killing at least three or four in a matter of seconds. Signaling to Vlad and Noah to cover him as he made his way over to me. It was then I saw Roman out of the corner of my eyes from across the room, thrashing around in his chair, somehow dodging the crossfire. Desperately trying to break loose from the restraints. It was the first time I’d ever seen him so vulnerable, so scared, and the image alone brought tears to my eyes.
He didn’t deserve this, and I never deserved him.
“Fuck!” I jumped up, not giving a shit if anyone saw me, or that I was putting my life in danger because in that second, I chose his over mine. “I’m coming, Roman!” I took off like a bat out of hell, needing to get to him as fast as I could.
“Muñeca, no!” Damien roared, tackling me to the ground. Holding my body tightly underneath his, shielding me from the war he’d brought into this basement. Pinning me to the ground.
More commotion.
More destruction.
More…
More…
More…
Exploded all around us.
“Stop! Please! Let me go! Roman! I need to get to Roman!” I yelled with tears streaming down the sides of my face. Trying to fight Damien off. “Get off me! Get the fuck off me!”
“Fucking stop it! Stop, Amira! You’re not going anywhere! Now fucking stop!” he argued, easily holding me down as if I was nothing but the goddamn doll he always called me.
“Please, Damien! Please! Help him!” I begged and pleaded with everything inside of me, choking back sob after sob while shot after shot erupted from everyone’s hands. Including his.
He finally sat up, still forcefully wrapping his forearm around my chest holding me close. Swiftly moving us behind an adjacent wall where we were hidden but could still see everything going on. I sat between his legs, continuously trying to get free, but he was too strong, too powerful, too consuming…
Too much for me to take.
“I’m not hiding this time. I can save them… him!”
“Goddamn it! Fucking stop it, Amira! Stop fucking fighting me! Enough!”
“Fuck you! I need to save them!” I raged, clawing at his hands, his arms, anywhere and everywhere I could feel skin.
“Don’t make me fucking hurt you, Muñeca, because I’m this close to knocking you the fuck out to save your fucking life!”
I froze, not believing the scene unfolding in front of me as casings continued to fly around us. For a second, it wasn’t Roman’s petrified expression staring back at me. Franticly penetrating my eyes, looking for help.
They were my father’s.
Out of nowhere a masked man appeared from the shadows, aiming his gun right at Roman and opened fire.
“Noooooooooo!” I screamed bloody murder as bullet after bullet lodged into his beaten chest, abdomen, arms, legs causing his body to jolt around, the chair mangled from the impact.
“NO! NO! NO!” Once again sucking in air that wasn’t available for the taking. Each shot resonating deep into my core. My chest heaved with every breath, suffocating in the massacre before me. Drowning in the devastation of his life brutally being ripped out of this world. “Nooooooo! You son of a bitch!” I dreadfully watched one last bullet fly through Roman’s forehead, murdering him point blank. Pushing his chair over, falling with a loud thud. The assailant’s body following suit as Noah took him out in that instant.
I couldn’t breathe.
I couldn’t fucking breathe.
I fought and fought and fought—screaming, kicking, whipping my body around. Breaking down, feeling as though I was dying right along with him. Adrenaline surged in my veins, throbbing through my bloodstream, taking over every last inch of my body until the shots finally ceased to exist any longer. The battle was over, but my war had only just begun.
There were no more gunshots.
No more madness.
When the only sounds that could be heard were my shrieking vocal cords, Damien finally let me go. I bolted to my feet and took off running, sprinting until I got to Roman’s lifeless body. Skidding to my knees, I felt a burning sting, but it didn’t compare to the fiery, blistering pain that would forever be etched into my heart.
“Someone help him! Please someone help him!” I bawled, knowing it was no use. It was pointless, he was dead and nothing was ever going to bring him back, exactly like my papi.
My sister.
My mami.
My world…
“Roman,” I sobbed, grabbing a knife from the man responsible for his death, cutting him loose. Instantly cradling his body against my chest. “Roman, I’m so sorry… I’m so fucking sorry…” I wailed, crying hysterically into his mangled, unrecognizable face.
He wasn’t smiling.
He wasn’t laughing.
He wasn’t moving.
There was no soul, no life, no love.
Nothing, all over again…
“You gotta wake up!” I coaxed, closing my eyes, remembering the night I held my dead father in my arms. Feeling as though I had warped back in time, kneeling on the floor at my childhood home. “Please�
�� Roman… you got to help me… please don’t leave me… please…” I hugged him tighter, as hard as I could. Crying so fucking much, shaking him as hard as I shook my papi to wake up. “Remember, you promised you were going to take me to the city? We were going to see the world? Remember, Papi? You promised…” I repeated those same words from that night I was a little girl, confused on who I was holding.
I couldn’t tell where I was anymore.
If I was back in Cuba.
Or here with Roman.
“I’m sorry, Papi! I’m sorry, I didn’t stay hidden. Please… don’t be mad at me… I’m still your good girl, right? I’m still your good girl, right, Roman? You still love me? Right? Please… please tell me… I didn’t want to hide this time.”
“Muñeca. Amira, baby—”
My eyes shot open, the crazy in them rendering Damien speechless. His own were watering with tears, and I knew he was right there with me in the memories from that night. Like we were the only two people in the basement, even though I felt everyone’s gaze on us. Damien’s face morphed into Salazar’s guards, into Emilio’s, back to Damien’s like it often did in my nightmares. I didn’t know what was real or what was an illusion. My mind just suddenly fucking snapped, and I had no control over it anymore.
I peered back into Roman’s hazy stare with trembling lips. “I love you, Roman. I love you so fucking much. You saved me… you brought me back to life.” I sucked in air, forcing myself to keep going. Willing my mouth to move. The pain, the agony, the remorse, hitting me hard and all at once. My chest ached and burned. My heart breaking, bleeding out for all to see.
How can this be happening again?
What did I do to deserve this?
“Please, God… please…” I begged for I don’t know what. Feeling as though I couldn’t go on anymore. I wanted to die, I wanted to die with him. My body fiercely battling with itself in a way it never had before. I wanted to throw up, I needed to throw up. “I can’t do this without you, Roman… you’re my heart… you’re my fucking heart… I’m so sorry. I love you, I love you, I love you…” I repeated, gently setting his limp body on the ground. Internally fighting with myself to let him go, to let him die.
Praying he would rest in peace, knowing I never would.
I softly closed his eyes and gently stripped the duct tape from his mouth. Bringing his hands up to my lips, kissing the only thing that wasn’t mutilated by violence, by hatred, by revenge for who I’d killed. I allowed my lips to linger for a few seconds, yearning to have him wrap his strong arms around me. Engulf me with his comfort, his warmth, his protection. Telling me it was going to be alright, everything was going to be alright.
It wasn’t.
It never would be again.
“I love you, Roman. Please, please forgive me,” I murmured one last time before I stood up on shaking legs. Rooted to my spot, solemnly looking at all the lifeless bodies on the floor and the men that were still alive bowing their heads in pity for me.
For what I’d lost.
For what was ripped away from me.
Again and again and again.
There was so much blood all over me, I couldn’t even see my own skin. I blinked, staring off into nothing but darkness.
Emptiness.
Hell.
My godforsaken life.
“You’re a monster, Amira… Just like them. You’re exactly like them…” Mami whispered.
“I’m so disappointed in you, Amira. I never wanted this life for you. You’re just like them. You’re a monster!” Papi roared. “It’s all your fault we’re dead.”
Fresh tears leaked from my eyes, raining over the man I’d be forever lost without, and it took everything in me not to continue to beg for his forgiveness.
For their forgiveness.
“Muñeca, come back to me,” Damien soothed, breaking me away from my demons. Making me gaze up at him through the slits of my swollen lids to stare into his serene, honey-colored eyes. The man responsible for it all.
My torment.
My remorse.
My demons.
I stepped toward him, crossing the imaginary line between the man who saved me and the man who enslaved me to a life where I was damned if I do and damned if I don’t. There was no good in him. He was a fucking monster.
Grasping for the very first time that my number one demon had been him all along.
So I spoke the only words to be true, the ones I should have said over a decade ago. “It should have been you,” I whispered so low he couldn’t hear.
“What, baby?” he stepped toward me, reaching out his hand for me to take, but I slapped it away, stepping back.
“No,” I voiced in a harsh, demanding tone.
He halted, cocking his head to the side with a familiar, yet foreign expression. Almost like I was seeing him with new eyes. “Amira, it’s me. Okay… shhh… Muñeca, it’s me.”
“I see you, Damien Montero, El Santo, clear as fucking day.” I stood taller, my hands clenched into fists at my sides, preparing for battle. For the war I was finally about to bring onto him. “It should have been you!” I viciously spewed, charging him like I did Emilio’s guards. Hitting, punching, pushing him as hard as I could. I fought with every ounce of strength I had left inside my hollow shell.
With the destruction and devastation he brought into my life from day fucking one.
Shoving, slapping, wanting to fucking destroy him the same way he did me time and time again. Pounding my fist into his chest, not paying any mind to the throbbing pain shooting through my hands and tearing through my body.
My mind urging me to keep going.
But my heart pleading with me to stop.
“You don’t mean that! You can’t mean that! You’re just hurting, and I’m so fucking sorry for that! But don’t you for one second tell me you wish I was dead when we both know it couldn’t be further from the fucking truth!”
“Hear me now! I fucking hate you! I fucking hate you so much! Do you understand me?! I hate you, Damien! It should have been you! Not Roman! YOU! From the first day you came into my life, all you’ve brought is death and despair. Because of you I have lost everyone that I loved. It wasn’t enough that you took my family from me, now you took away the only man who ever loved me for me!”
He let me deliver every blow, exactly like he did that night with my family, never once trying to stop me. He didn’t block or prevent my assault, knowing he deserved it tenfold. I hit all over his face, his chest, anywhere I could while he still held onto my flailing body.
Trying to hold me.
Comfort me.
“Muñeca, I love you. I’ve always loved you! I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry!” he apologized like that was going to bring them back. Bring Roman back. His words fueling my fire like gas to a flame. Higher and higher, faster and faster, I rose until I felt like I was going to fucking explode.
Another strong arm wrapped around my stomach, yanking me back. Lifting me off the floor. “No! No! No!” I shrieked, roughly trying to fight him off as well. Shaking my head back and forth, whipping my body around.
Why was this happening to me again?
I already lived through this…
“Calm down!” Vlad urged in my ear. “You’re in shock. You’re only hurting yourself. Please, Amira. Breathe, you need to just take a second and breathe, zogu.”
I couldn’t breathe.
I couldn’t stop fighting.
I was choking, hyperventilating, drowning deeper in my despair. In the regrets that were now more bad memories. Where this time, I wasn’t making it out alive.
There was no saving me from myself.
“I hate you, Damien! I wish it were you!” I yelled hysterically, gasping for my next breath to the point where my vision turned spotty. My strained vocal cords felt like they were on fire. “This is all your fault! I was handling it! He was backing down, you piece of shit! You did this! Murderer! You killed Roman! Just like you killed my family!” Letti
ng my adrenaline kick in full force and at maximum speed. My eyes seeing red and my body sickened with rage, desiring to fall apart. “I wish it were you who fucking died! Do you hear me?! I wish it were YOU!”
He jerked back, winded from hearing me say those words to him for the very first time. The shattered look in his eyes and the broken expression on his face taunted me to keep going.
“That’s right, motherfucker! I wish you were fucking dead! I hate you! I hate you! I hate you so much!” I sobbed, struggling against Vlad’s arms as he pulled me toward the stairs. Blood, sweat, and tears flowing freely down my battered face. “It should have been you! I wish to fucking God that you were dead! You’re nothing to me! Do you understand me?! Nothing!”
I kicked Vlad in the balls, and he let me go with an oomph.
I was over to Damien in three long strides, getting right into his face. Staring deep into his distressed gaze without hesitation, gritting out, “Do you understand me? I wish you were dead! I wish you were fucking dead!” Just as the last word flew out of my mouth, I heard the sound of a gun fire as Damien forcefully shoved my body to the side, knocking me to the ground.
I would remember this split second for the rest of my life. Out of all the times I wished to God, praying to grant me this or that, he chose this moment to answer my prayer for the first time in my life. I watched with tormented eyes as a bullet lodged itself in Damien’s chest, right next to…
His heart.
He saved my life.
When I just ended…
His.
TWENTY-FOUR
AMIRA
At first, I didn’t even know what happened.
My body was abruptly thrown to the side, crashing onto the hard cement beneath me with resounding pain. It wasn’t until I heard the distinct sound of gun powder lighting in the shell, a bullet whizzing through the air, and popping when it hit its target.
