by C. A. Rene
“Were you holding back before?” He asks.
“No.”
“Today is different.” He says, “you’re fighting differently.”
“Last time I thought I was just fighting in a cage. This time I know I will kill instead.”
His head lowers to his sweaty chest and I watch droplets fall from his hair. I’m no longer fighting for show and submission, I’m fighting to kill or be killed.
“Tonight is going to be easier, he’s a rival gang banger from Queens. His name is Fringe. He was caught pimping in our territory. Jefe wants quick work of him. I don’t know his weaknesses but he hasn’t been fed in a few days.”
I nod and reach for my sweater, we’re done here.
“Wait, can I give you some advice?” He asks, I nod for him to continue, “do what you have to do and then erase it. Don’t dwell and don’t obsess. It’s survival, kid and you’re a soldier.”
I nod again and wait for him to lead me back to my room so I can prepare for my next kill.
I am back in this shitty little room outside the cage, waiting for my name to be called. I have heard ‘Blur’ being chanted throughout the night and realized I have gained more notoriety by draining a life with my bare hands.
Charming.
I hear the familiar beat of ‘Bodies’ and stand up, waiting for the door to be unlocked and me being escorted to the cage. I follow three large goons and hop inside the cage with a grin. I would never betray my inner turmoil to anyone watching me.
My opponent is a large man with pale skin and bright red hair. His face is almost completely covered in tattoos save for his eyelids and lips. The strange thing is, they’re flowers. Yeah, he has many brightly coloured flowers all over his face.
“For every girl I had to kill that stole or tried to run, I got a flower,” He fucking smirks, “I have room for one more.” He says pointing at a small open space by his jaw.
I pull my sweater off and throw it to the corner, then I stand and wait for him to move. I’ve shut down my emotions and my vision begins to bleed in hues of red. He stalks towards me, the closer he gets the wider his grin. I don’t move, not a muscle as he reaches out to grab a handful of hair. Everything becomes slow motion as I determine his moves. I quickly punch the inside of his elbow and move in bringing myself almost flush with his body then I stomp down on his foot and watch as he brings his head down with a grunt. His arms start to encircle me as I rear my head back and smash it into his nose.
The spray of warm blood on my face is exhilarating and I crouch as his hands fly to his nose. I swing my leg out and kick him off his feet and his back slams into the mat with a loud thud. He’s starting to turn to get up on all fours when I kick him hard in the kidney, he screams and his back bows off the mat. Then I stomp my foot down on his solar plexus and watch as he struggles to breathe. I stand over his torso with a foot on either side of him and grab a fist full of his shirt. I bring him up and punch him twice in the temple, making him groggy. My eyes come up and I search the crowd for the man responsible for my actions. In the moment we lock eyes, the heel of my hand connects with my opponents nose and I feel it crunch and slide into his skull. He begins to convulse and I watch transfixed as blood and mucus pool around his head. Soon the seizing stops and he lays lifeless.
I walk to my sweater-unfazed by the deafening screams of triumph around me-and put it on, pulling my hood up to cover my face. I’m shaking with adrenalin and need to bring myself down with a quick jog in my cell.
The cage door opens and before I can step out someone grabs my arm and drags me out of the area. I look up and see the back of Carm’s head as he angrily stomps ahead of me and I shuffle along trying to keep up.
“Wait.” I demand, pulling back on my hand.
“What?” He snarls.
“I need the gym. I need to jog off this feeling.”
“Fine.” He grits through his teeth, ‘but if you try to run I will kill you.”
“Noted.”
We get to the gym and Carm stands against the wall as I run out my adrenalin on a treadmill.
“I used to be the one who would set up your targets.” He breaks the silence. “Whoever you intimidated and beat for this gang, came from me.”
“Interesting.” I drawl.
“You were our ace up the sleeve, not one of them knew what you were capable of until it was too late.” He walks over to me, “you’re his new toy and he won’t let you go willingly.”
“Already figured that out. Thanks”
“Even if you are his daughter.”
I turn off the machine and face him, so they do know I’m Raphael’s daughter. I’m not sure how to feel about this, it was something I was hoping I could forget when I escape.
“He doesn’t care about family. He cares only about loyalty.” He continues, “remember that. He will never see you as his daughter or be a loving father.”
“I don’t care, I’m not proving any loyalty to him, I’m killing these people-whether they are innocent or not-to save myself! I am killing to stay alive, not to prove some warped sense of loyalty!” I fume.
“You don’t get it,” he shakes his head, “he will kill family, as well.”
I don’t bother to answer him, I know he will kill me if I don’t comply and that’s why I am doing what I have to. To stay alive. Carm groans in frustration and leads me back to my room. I’m not connecting what he needs me to know here and I just don’t have the time to figure it out along with how the fuck I’m getting out of here.
“You could just help me escape.” I suggest as I follow his brisk lead.
“Did you hear nothing?” He turns on me, “he would kill me without batting an eye, you need to do what you have to do to survive? Well, so do I.”
“You didn’t choose to be a part of this mob? You were forced?” I ask sarcastically.
“Something like that.” He snaps.
The conversation ends there as we get to my room, he quickly unlocks the door and slams it behind me, leaving me alone. I take a shower, change out of my bloody clothes and lay on the bed. For the second time, I work to convince myself that I did what I had to. I try my best to be the soldier Carm told me to be and disconnect. I’ve tried so hard not to think about my family, friends and especially Vin. The shame I feel when I do is incapacitating and I don’t want them to ever find out the things I had to do here to survive. Vin’s green eyes and cocky grin flits through my mind and my breath catches in my chest, I miss him, I miss him so fucking much. I feel the first tear fall down my cheek and try counting. I can’t lose it, I need to hold it together and try to get out of here before I have to kill again.
I’ve noticed a pattern with the fights, I fight every two days. Which means I have roughly forty-eight hours to figure this out. It’s obvious Carm will not help me, so that leaves one of the goons either bringing my meals or escorting me to the cage. They rotate so I haven’t had the same people twice and I realize it’s to keep me from forming an alliance with any one of them. My only constant is Carm, but how can I convince him? First I need to get him here before the next fight. I sit up and decide tomorrow, I will yell to the guard at my door to get Carm for a workout session. I will claim that I need to work off the trauma I am dealing with. I know this will be believable to him.
The next morning, I wait on my bed for my breakfast to arrive. At least I think it’s morning, I can’t be too sure. As soon as the key jingles in the lock, I sit up straighter. One guy enters with my tray and a second guy guards the door. This is my chance.
“Hey,” I begin, “you don’t have to answer me, I just need you to tell Carm I need an extra work out session today.”
The one holding the tray stares at me and assesses my face, so I keep it neutral and hope he doesn’t see the desperation I’m feeling. Finally, he nods and turns on his heel to leave and the door firmly locks behind him. Now I wait to see if this actually works.
Lunch rolls around and two more goons are sent to deliver the tr
ay. I debate with asking them as well, but I decide not to. I don’t want to look too eager and alert them to my desperation.
Finally, about an hour after lunch, my door is unlocked and Carm walks in. He looks irritated and his jaw is clenched tight. Again, I am overcome with the sense that I know him.
“You beckoned?” He sneers.
“I can’t sleep,” not a lie, “and I can’t get these images of blood out of my head. I need to run it off.”
He stands there studying me for a few minutes before he finally agrees with a nod. I get up and put on my hoodie.
“Let’s go Miss Torres.” He chuckles as he opens the door.
“It’s Craven.” I snap.
“You’re a Torres regardless of what is on your birth certificate.”
“I was raised a Craven…”
“I don’t mean your name. I’m talking about the blood in your veins. Fuck, your every bit a Torres, look what your capable of. Was your mother a fighter?”
I don’t answer him and he nods to himself. I have tainted blood, too. In that sense he is right, this darkness that runs through me-the part of me that loves to make someone bleed-is a Torres through and through.
I’m running on the treadmill trying to figure out how to break the silence. I need his help and he is my only hope but I need him to feel a connection.
“I don’t know who the next fight will be with.” He says quietly, “it’s all really hush hush.”
“Do you think he suspects you of telling me?”
“No,” he shakes his head, “I don’t know. I just have a bad feeling.”
“How much worse can it get? I’m taking lives when I don’t want to, regardless of who it is.”
“It can always get worse. Trust me.”
“I do,” I say, “trust you, that is.”
“Don’t be stupid.” He snarls at me, “don’t trust anyone here.”
“Too late, I know you don’t want to see anything bad happen to me.”
“I can’t help you this time.” He shrugs.
“You could get me out of here, Carm.” I plead with him.
“No, I can’t.” He scrubs his hand down his face, “I have a little brother and Raphael would kill him if he found out I helped you.”
This changes everything, I don’t want to put anybody else in danger because of me. I will just have to escape during a meal drop off.
“Don’t try to fight your way out on a meal drop off.” He says, watching me closely.
What the actual fuck? Is this guy s fucking psychic? Did I say that shit out loud? He chuckles softly and punches my arm lightly.
“It’s what you were thinking wasn’t it? I mean that’s what I would do. They have orders to kill you if you try it. They are all packing heat.”
“Fuck.” I exhale, it’s a lost cause. I’m stuck here murdering three people on average per week.
“You’re not stuck here.” He says.
“Fucking stop that you creep!” I point in his face. He starts to laugh.
“Gain his loyalty, and he’ll ease up. It won’t be easy to convince him. I’m sure he will stage something dramatic and something he knows you will have a hard time choosing, but if you want out, you will have to choose him.”
Fuck, I don’t like the sound of this. There are many new things in my life he could use against me. My new family, my boyfriend and my best friends. Any one of them and I would cave because I would always choose them over myself. I would always choose them over him.
“Let’s go, Blur. You should rest before tomorrow. You’re going in blind.”
I follow him out of the gym and back to my cell. I’m feeling defeated, I can’t use Carm to help me out of here and I have at least twenty guns ready to take me out whenever I leave my prison room. I may have to take his advice and try to fake my loyalty to my deranged father.
“Is there any way you can get a message to him?” I ask.
“I can.” He side eyes me, “What do you want me to tell him?”
“I need to speak to him. I’ve killed two people for him and he can’t avoid me forever.”
“Okay, I’ll tell him a nicer version of that.” He says with an eye roll.
I walk into my room feeling every ounce of soreness and exhaustion, but I know sleep will not come easy.
“Get some rest,” he says while closing the door, “I’ll come back tomorrow.”
I fall on top of the bed and stare at the ceiling until the white becomes out of focus and my breathing levels out. Tomorrow I will be facing someone unknown and that leaves me with a heavy ball of dread in my stomach. I pray to God its not any one of my family or friends.
I’m awoken by the feeling of my bed dipping at my feet, I sit up as straight as a bolt and curse myself for sleeping so deeply.
“You look so much like your mother when you sleep.” Raphael says wistfully.
I don’t dare answer him, if he’s here then I need to listen to every word he says without interruption.
“I loved your mother from the moment I saw her, she was pure and so good, her inner light blinded me.” He shakes his head, “I grew up on the streets of New York, my parents-your grandparents-were Mexican immigrants and we were dirt poor. I started making money at the age of six, just delivering packages on my bike. As a teenager I was selling dope on the corners, until a good friend of mine moved to Toronto, Canada. We kept in touch and he began to move our product there.
I became high up on the ladder here and worked my way to be the next in line to inherit the Eastside Rampage. Prestigious, I know.”
Not exactly what I was thinking, but whatever. He waves it off.
“I decide one day to take a trip to Toronto and see how my good friend was settled in, and to look for more potential business. His family had settled into Whitsborough and his younger brother had started at a high school called Precious Blood, sound familiar?”
Again, I don’t answer, I stare at him expectantly. He grins at me and brushes a lock of hair out of my face, almost lovingly.
“That day when we picked his little brother up, I met the most beautiful girl I had ever seen. She looked like an angel and her laugh was like heavens bells, I was immediately in love. I had to have her. So, I stayed and I courted your mother, soon she was just as in love with me as I was with her. It was also lucky that her best friend was dating my friend’s little brother.”
My breath catches, I know he’s talking about Robert. He watches my face closely and smiles.
“Ahh, so you know Robbie. I hear he’s dying these days. But he’s been an amazing business partner after taking over for his brother many years ago. See, I had to kill his brother for skimming off the top, business you know?”
Fuck, Robert is in business with the Eastside Rampage. Raphael continues,
“I hear he’s grooming a son to take over for him. I will have to check in on that, we can’t have any loose ends.”
My mouth goes dry.
Travis.
That motherfucker is grooming Travis.
“Your mother knew nothing about those things, I needed her to stay pure and light. She knew me as Ray and thought I was in Toronto to check out universities. Her parents hated me from the start, they saw through my ruse and tried to break us up. But, it was too late, your mother was already pregnant. I convinced her to come back to New York with me, and not tell her parents about the baby. I told her they would make her abort or force adoption and she was young and believed every word from my mouth. So, she followed me. For the first year I made sure she didn’t work, I took care of her and she became untraceable.”
He scratches his chin and continues.
“She did get a hold of her parents one day. She was eight months pregnant and desperately missed her family. They found out she was pregnant and living here with me, and surprise, surprise, they wanted nothing to do with her. Disowned and forgotten. They broke her, she was distraught for the rest of her pregnancy. So naturally, I had them killed.” He adds flippa
ntly.
I lose all feeling in my face, if this is true my grandparents knew about us and they turned their backs, they deliberately kept the information from Aunt Debby. I’m not so remorseful about their deaths.
“When you were born, my world shifted, a baby girl who looked so much like the woman I adored. Eyes like the clearest ocean. You were beautiful and already so full of fire. I knew you would be strong. I spent every day with you for six months until I was arrested.”
He gets up from the bed and starts pacing my small room.
“I mean, I was arrested before, I have most of the police force on my pay roll. I wasn’t worried. Then I quickly learned it wasn’t the police but the FBI. You see, they had a solid informant, someone that could account for everything I did with proof. So, I went away. But, I still had my connections and soon enough I found out who that informant was. And I was patient, Mija. I waited until I was released to strike. I want you to know, I will kill anyone who gets in my way.”
I already knew this, that’s why I need him to believe I won’t get in the way. I just want to leave and live my own life.
“Who was the informant?” I ask.
He reaches my bedroom door and opens it slowly, his back to me. The silence is deafening and I instantly feel nauseous. His cold, empty eyes turn to look at me over his shoulder.
“Your mother.”
Chapter Eighteen
The room is destroyed.
I’ve punched over fifty holes in the walls and ripped everything I could apart.
He killed my mother.
The house fire deemed an accident, wasn’t a fucking accident.
My fists are a mess and bleeding, blood is dripping everywhere. My voice is hoarse from screaming and my heart is fucking broken.
I’m not leaving here until his blood is coating my skin. I am going to kill him and enjoy every second of it. He made a big mistake telling me that, if he thought for one second I would be afraid and bend to his will, he was fucking wrong. I am-after all-a motherfucking Torres.
