Luxury and Larceny, Part 2

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Luxury and Larceny, Part 2 Page 1

by Dream Collins




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  Copyright Page

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  Chapter 1

  All China saw was darkness. Blackness. Nothingness. Fear gripped her, crippling her as she reached her hands out in front of her. She couldn’t breathe. She sucked in the air around her but it was stale, recycled, hot. So heavy that it felt like she was underwater. She just couldn’t inhale. I’m suffocating, she thought in a panic, as she reached out in the cramped space, frantically running her hands against whatever it was she was trapped in. She couldn’t move much; the space was too tight. Her head throbbed and she felt wetness—her blood, she assumed—dripping down her neck. She remembered being struck over the head, she remembered the warehouse and killing Bree. The thought of him was enough on its own to cause bile to rise from her stomach. She choked violently as it erupted from her, the smell of vomit making the air around her even harder to breathe. She had lived her life with reckless abandon, thinking nothing of the consequences of her actions. Not much had scared her, not even the thought of being caught up in the drug game. But as she struggled to breathe, she was filled with fear. Terror had never gripped her this tightly.

  “Help me! Let me out of here!” Her cries were shrill as she hit her palms against the top of whatever box she was trapped in. This felt like a coffin. Oh my God, he buried me! Her mind instantly reverted back to the stories she had heard about Cinco’s twisted method of murder. She wouldn’t be the first person he had left rotting in the Mexican desert. It was an MO he was known for. “Please!” she cried, hyperventilating as she kicked her legs frantically, wishing she had the space to move freely. This wasn’t the way she thought she would die. She would rather be on the other end of Cinco’s gun than under his feet, under six feet of sand, waiting for the air to run out. Instinctively, she started drawing in shallower breaths. How long would she be able to last? Tears seeped from the sides of her eyes and sobs wracked her body. She was filled with regret. So many stupid decisions had led her to this very moment. She knew that she had played a dangerous game and done some scandalous things to people who didn’t deserve her treachery, but was her karma this bad? She closed her eyes, imagining a time in her life that was so much more peaceful. If she was going to die, she didn’t want to do it feeling like this. She was fear-filled and didn’t want to cross over into the afterlife with an unsettled heart. The old cliché that life flashes before one’s eyes before death had to be true because she saw everything. Her childhood, her father, her mother, her friends, Bree. All of it appeared in her mind. She cried tears filled with memories until suddenly the lid of the wooden box she laid in was lifted. She gasped, sucking in as much air as possible as she squinted at the bright rays of the sun. Cinco stood above her, godlike as he held her life in his hands. The sun was so blinding that all she could see was his silhouette as her eyes tried to adjust.

  “I could let you rot in this hole, shorty,” Cinco said arrogantly, as he looked down at her. “I can put this lid back on this box and let you listen as my goons cover you in sand, or you can earn your life back. You want to live, bitch? Or you want to die slow?”

  China was too traumatized to respond. It was a hundred degrees in the desert, but the cold stare of Cinco made her shiver.

  He knelt and stared at her. “If I let you out this hole, I own you. You have to earn your freedom, bitch,” he said threateningly. China didn’t respond. She just nodded frantically. She would agree to anything to get out of this makeshift grave.

  Cinco smirked, clearly amused by her fear. He got off on instilling terror in others, and after forcing China to kill Bree, he knew he had her head. She would do anything to avoid the same fate.

  He stood and motioned to his henchmen. “Blindfold her and put her in the trunk.”

  The smell of gas filled the interior of the small space and the sun blaring down in the Mexican desert made the trunk just as deadly as being buried alive. China couldn’t breathe, and she was afraid that if they didn’t arrive at their destination soon, she would die, regardless. Her body bounced as Cinco’s henchmen drove through the uneven terrain. She tried to will herself to stay awake, but the air was just so damned thick. She kicked and screamed, but it was clear that she was of no concern to the passengers in the car. She closed her eyes, knowing very well she might not ever open them again, but her eyelids were just so heavy. Her breath was short. She just needed to breathe, to open her eyes and fight. China thought of doing many things, but she just didn’t have the strength. This was it. She would die in the trunk of Cinco’s car before he could even tell her his demands.

  Chapter 2

  China felt hands on her body, pulling her from the trunk roughly, handling her with no regard as she came to. She was grateful for the fresh air that filled her lungs.

  “Walk,” one of the two armed goons ordered, as Cinco led the way. China hesitated as she stared up at the building she had just escaped. They were back at the warehouse where Bree had died, where she had killed him.

  “No, please! Cinco! I’ll do whatever you want! Don’t make me go in there!” she screamed as she backed up. Cinco’s goons pushed her forward harshly, causing her to trip over her own feet as she stumbled forward. Cinco walked towards her until he stood toe-to-toe with her. She had seen the menacing look on his face before. He had vengeance in his heart, and his thirst for her blood wouldn’t be fulfilled until she was dead. She quivered. Cinco wasn’t tall in stature, but what he lacked in height he made up for in presence. His ego was massive. His pride, humongous. His reputation, gigantic. He was a terror without any army behind him, but with his cartel affiliations he was an unstoppable lunatic, with plenty of blood on his hands. A realization hit her: He will never let me live. Not after what I did to him. “This is a game. A sick, twisted game, and no matter what I do, I lose, right? That’s what this is?” she whispered in defeat. Cinco scoffed in amusement.

  “You had a lot more bark when your boyfriend was alive,” he said. “I guess Bonnie ain’t Bonnie without Clyde, huh?” he mocked. “Unless you want me to lose patience and put a bullet between your eyes, get inside.”

  China blinked away her tears as she lowered her head and walked ahead of Cinco, one of his men on either side of her in case she had the bright idea to run.

  The scent of blood, Bree’s blood, filled the air as China was forced into a wooden chair. Her heart pumped with such intensity that it felt as if thoroughbreds were racing inside her chest. She had no idea what Cinco had in store for her, but she knew that whatever his intentions may have been, they were ill. Danger was imminent. Like a sixth sense, she felt it. Fear pulsed through her veins, almost paralyzing her. She couldn’t think of a way out of this predicament. Her arms were tied behind her, rendering her defenseless. Not that it mattered much. Even if her arms had been free, she would still have been at a disadvantage.

  Cinco neared her and she closed her eyes, knowing that the death sentence he was about to administer would be worse than anything she c
ould have imagined. She didn’t want to see it coming.

  “Open your eyes,” Cinco said. His tone was lethal and China reluctantly fluttered her lids open. He had pulled another chair up, directly in front of her, as if they were about to have a meeting of the minds.

  “I’m a man of my word,” Cinco said. “I’m not going to kill you unless you play your hand wrong. You have a choice.”

  “It doesn’t feel like I have any choices while I’m strapped to this chair,” China replied. Her voice was barely audible. She was too scared to buck against Cinco. She had no fight left. After playing a part in Bree’s demise, she was barely holding on to sanity. This waiting game was torture in itself. If Cinco was going to kill her, she wished he would just get it over with.

  “That chair is how I train you, shorty. I’ve seen you cross a nigga that you love, so I can only imagine what you’ll do to a nigga that you hate. I’m the one you hate. So you got to fear me,” Cinco said. He snapped his fingers and one of the henchmen brought a burlap bag to him. The bottom of the bag was soaked in blood. Cinco reached inside.

  “So I’m going to train you to fear me. Train you to do what I say. You’ve got to know the only way you escape your prison is if I pardon you,” Cinco said. He pulled out a human head. Bree’s head. China drew in a sharp breath as she closed her eyes and turned her head to the side. She couldn’t look at her love like that.

  “This slick muthafucka was too smart for his own good. He thought he could get away with robbing me. You both did … that bitch Bleu too. You can easily end up like him,” Cinco said, leaning into her and holding the head up to her face. “Or you can set a muthafucka up for me and I’ll consider us even.”

  “Please, I can’t stay here! I can’t look at him like that. I swear to God I’ll do anything,” she pleaded, desperately. She knew that if she didn’t agree to his terms it would be her head he was holding up next. She didn’t want to be an example of lessons not learned.

  “No you won’t. But by the time I get in there,” he tapped her temple, “you will.”

  He stood and sat Bree’s head on his chair.

  “You sit here and remember what happened to your boy. I don’t feel like putting in more work, but I will. And for you, I have something special in mind. I’d take my time with your pretty ass,” he said sadistically. He turned and walked out.

  Even when it was clear that she was alone, China still refused to open her eyes. She couldn’t look at Bree. She didn’t want to see him. To know that she had done this to him ate her up inside. The two of them had played the game together and lost. Bree had paid the ultimate price, and to avoid meeting the same fate, she had to promise her soul to the devil.

  * * *

  China’s body was like a rag doll as she hung from the rafters of the warehouse basement. She was hung just high enough so that Cinco’s dogs couldn’t reach her. He had a thing for dogs, vicious breeds that saw her as their next meal. They jumped and scratched at her, biting her feet and nipping at her legs as they tried their hardest to get to her. China didn’t even scream anymore. Her body swayed slightly and her head hung to her chest, as her arms stretched above her head. The rope she was strung from burned into her wrists. No one had been to check on her for days. She had watched the sun rise and then set two times since Cinco’s men had left her there. She didn’t have the energy to cry anymore. She was weak, and a part of her wished that Cinco would just come to get it over with already. This slow death was torture. Knowing that his vicious canines were preying on her terrified her. She was covered in urine and sweat, and the heat in the basement made the stench unbearable. She smelled like a fresh meal to the dogs beneath her. She was delirious. Her mouth felt like sandpaper and she could have sworn that she heard Bree whispering her name in her ear.

  The sound of the heavy metal door opening let her know that she was no longer alone, but she didn’t have the strength to lift her head. Her hair fell over her face as she whimpered.

  “Down,” Cinco ordered the dogs. They instantly quieted and calmed at his command.

  “What is this, Marcincio?”

  China was too defeated to even look up, but she heard the unknown voice in the room. She simply hung limply, on the edge of peril, as she heard Cinco respond.

  “It’s business,” Cinco said. “I brought you here to show you how I handle shit. Nobody gets away with disrespecting me. Iman don’t get down like this. He don’t put in work like me. I got the streets. They fear me. You can let me run the business, Papa.” Cinco’s voice was proud and boisterous as he bragged about the strides he had made in the streets. He frowned when he saw the look of displeasure cross his father’s face.

  “This is not business, Marcincio. This is the reason why I cannot trust you with my business. Power is about more than bloodshed. Sometimes showing restraint shows just how powerful you are. The streets fear you, but they don’t love you. No one will remain loyal to a man they do not love. If I ever put my empire in your hands, you would ruin it. You would ruin my name, and my name is all there is,” the man said.

  “That’s funny coming from you, Papa. The name Sandoza was earned on bloodshed. This bitch crossed me!” Cinco shouted. China gasped slightly. She wanted to appeal to this new man, to plead for his mercy. She had heard of Sandoza before. She knew that he was a very important man. Please help me, she thought.

  “Kill her. You get it over with! This is not a game. She is not a toy for you to fiddle with. You make mistakes when you play around, Marcincio. You’re like a fucking child, mijo! You act off of emotion instead of thinking!” Sandoza chastised. “Your rants. Bodies built up in the desert, fingerprints left at the scenes of murders. The only reason why you aren’t in jail or dead is because of the favors I have had to call in to keep you out of trouble. You are incompetent! You are my only son and a fucking disappointment!” China’s heart fell. Sandoza would not be her savior. He had just put the nail in her coffin.

  “That’s why you chose Iman over me? You choose him over your own flesh!” Cinco shouted.

  “You are not ready, Marcincio, and this confirms that I was right,” Sandoza said. His voice was filled with disgust. “Kill her and get her out of here. I’ll have my people come and sanitize. I’m tired of cleaning up behind you.”

  With those last words, he was gone.

  The interaction with his father left Cinco so frustrated that he kicked over the boxes stacked in the corner of the room. His dogs waited, docile in his presence.

  China was unsure of how long she had been hanging there. It was silent. The only sounds she could hear were Cinco’s steps as he walked away and the dogs’ snarls as they refocused on her.

  Chapter 3

  China was floating in and out of consciousness when she heard the metal door open and then loudly slam closed.

  “Cut her down,” Cinco said.

  China felt herself free-falling, but she was too weak to even catch herself. She hit the concrete floor with full force, which knocked the wind out of her.

  She placed her palms on the floor and struggled to lift her upper body.

  She felt Cinco’s dogs sniffing around her, circling her like she was prey.

  “Get the dogs out of here,” Cinco said. China knew he was speaking to his goons. Whenever he went, he kept yes-men around him. She was too weak to look up, but she knew they were there.

  Cinco stood over her and grabbed her hair to pull her head backward. He pulled so hard that she felt like her neck would snap.

  She opened her eyes slightly, her vision blurry. She felt his breath as he spoke harshly in her ear.

  “Your life is in my hands. How long you continue to live it is up to me. Remember that,” he said. He pushed her head forward and she sobbed as she felt him cut the rope from her hands. She wasn’t naïve. This didn’t mean freedom. She couldn’t foresee any circumstance where he would allow her to live. This was all a sadistic game to Cinco, and China was his pawn. A slow death. That’s what this was. And even if he eve
r did let her go, the things she had done would make her want to kill herself.

  He walked towards the steps. “You coming or what?”

  China had no energy. It took everything in her to lift her head and look him in the eye. “I can’t.”

  She needed water. She needed food. He was starving her to death, whether he meant to or not.

  Cinco sighed and rubbed the top of his head in frustration as he looked at her skeptically. She was disgusting. He reluctantly walked over to her and bent to pick her up. Seeing how limp she was in his arms, he realized he would have to clean her up if he wanted to use her in his plans. Sandoza hadn’t looked twice at China when he had visited the warehouse. He had no idea that the very woman who was hanging, near dead, was the woman Cinco planned to use for his demise.

  Cinco had tortured China enough to make her fear him for a lifetime. Now it was time to nurse her back to health so that she would be ready for what he had in mind. When he emerged from the stairs, he nodded towards his men. “Open the trunk,” he said.

  “Please, please no. Please don’t put me in there,” she whispered, loud enough for only him to hear.

  Cinco knew that she was in no position to buck against him. He could leave her free in the back and she wouldn’t be able to muster the strength to do anything other than comply with his demands.

  “Open the back door,” Cinco said.

  He threw her inside. Nothing about him was gentle, but she was still grateful.

  Cinco climbed in the backseat beside her as the two goons took the front.

  They rode in silence until they pulled up to Cinco’s villa. China recognized it. It was the same place where she, Bree, and Bleu had left Cinco for dead. She quivered when they pulled up to it. She wondered if he had some type of sick torture chamber inside.

  Cinco climbed out of the car. “Bring her inside,” he said.

 

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