by Korry Smith
“What’s the plan, Alex?” Peter asked, easing out into the road, and slowly gaining speed on the open highway, but never going above sixty.
“I’m initiating my Plan B,” he answered, pressing the Colt to Miguel’s temple with one hand and holding on to mine with the other.
Miguel was silent. Alex gagged him with a rolled-up sock and electrical tape. Peter and Adriana bound his hands with a rope they kept in the trunk. The cut on his forehead stopped bleeding and was now a mangled clot of red, crusted blood. It was disgusting to look at, and I distracted myself by going through his phone and reading the messages. There were twenty in total. All of them were from his brother, and ALL of them were in Spanish.
I should have paid more attention to La Señora Vásquez and that stupid worksheet she handed out.
“Plan B?” Peter questioned, locking eyes with Alex through the rearview mirror.
“Yeah, I need to figure out another way to get into the senator’s mansion.” Alex gave me a sideways glance and flashed his trademark grin, crooked and sly. “I’m about to kill off my connection.”
“I thought you were only a ‘Plan A’ type of guy,” I said.
“Normally, under different circumstances, this would be true, but someone has proven themselves to be unable to work well with others, and they must be dealt with accordingly,” he said, gesturing towards our hostage.
I smiled, gripping his thigh, and using it as leverage to slide closer to him in the seat until I was on his lap. The brass and hard-ass bravado was sexy, but combine that with his good looks, and it was impossible to resist.
“Mad,” Alex said through soft chuckles, shaking his head. “This is not the fucking time.”
“I’m not doing anything,” I whispered back, highly offended by his insinuation.
He removed my wandering hand from his leg and brought it up to his lips. “Later.”
The promise sealed with a kiss made matters worse. I’m not sure what Alex intent was, but it intensified the fire inside instead of satisfying it.
“How much later are we talking?” I asked.
“Sometime after blowing off this fucker’s head and meeting back up with you in Kansas City.” He gazed over my body briefly, focusing on my chest for longer than needed, and then back up to my eyes. “But of course, it doesn’t take much to persuade me.”
The way Alex occasionally would suck the ring into his mouth, his teeth grazing the silver hoop, was hypnotizing and I nearly missed the part where he said he would meet me in Kansas City.
Wait…what?
“Turn off on this road, Peter,” Alex instructed, leaning forward in his seat now.
“I’m coming with you, right?” I asked.
He ignored me, keeping his eyes fixed straight ahead and out the front windshield. “You can drop me off at the tree line.”
“Alex,” I said, trying to get his attention, but it was no use, he purposely kept himself distracted.
“Right here is perfect,” he said, tapping the headrest of Peter’s seat.
“Do you want us to wait for you?” Adriana asked as the car came to a stop.
“Nope, I can find my way back to Kansas City. You know me.” He smirked, opening the door, and pushing Miguel out. “I’m a resourceful motherfucker.”
“Here, take this, oh, resourceful one,” Peter said, pulling out a shotgun and handing it to Alex.
His eyes lit up like a kid on Christmas. “This might be fun.”
“It causes massive damage if used at close range,” Peter said, turning around in his seat, and smiling at me. “You can’t miss.”
I raised my eyebrow at him. “I thought you were a pacifist.”
He laughed, glancing over at Adriana. “Yeah, we are, but…”
“But we still enjoy a thrill kill from time to time,” Adriana finished, placing her hand on Peter’s cheek, and smiled at him adoringly.
My definition might be a tad different than theirs, but from what I’d understood from thrill killing was that they killed for the fun of it. They didn’t seem like the type, with their open, endearing eyes and pale blonde hair. Their angel-like features would be deceiving to anyone who crossed them.
What if that was the point?
At that moment, I realized why they’d always seemed so weird and out of place, but I could never put my finger on it. They were the evolved version of Alex and me. What we would be in five to ten years. The only difference was that we hadn’t killed together, and felt that thrill pulse through our veins, uniting us as one.
“Mad,” Alex called, drawing my attention from our future, and refocusing my gaze on the present.
I smiled at him, wrapping my arms around his neck, and pulling him close. He didn’t resist when my lips touched his, gentle and sweet at first, but soon turned deep, full of wanting and need.
He groaned, grasping my arms, and dragging his mouth across the corner of my jaw, nipping at the skin. “Hmm, persuasive as always, I see.”
“You know how this is going to turn out, Alex,” I said, jerking away from him, and narrowing my eyes. “I’m not going with them.”
“Yes, you are, baby,” he said, brushing the hair from my face. He looked so conflicted, brows furrowed, and lips pursed. He was fighting a losing battle. “I’ll meet you in Kansas City. We’ll go to dinner. Anywhere you want, kid.”
“I want to go with you,” I said in a sterner voice, pushing against his chest, and getting out of the car.
“Mad!” Alex shouted at me. “God damn it!” He hit the roof of the car with his hand, glaring at me as I circled the back and approached him. “Woman, why can’t you ever just do what I ask?”
“Why must you insist on shielding me from things?” I countered, stopping short as my feet hit the back of Miguel’s head. He was lying on the stomach with his face in the dirt.
“Because you don’t need to see...” He glanced away and stared off into the distance.
“See what?” I asked, stepping over Miguel and putting my hands on the sides of Alex’s face, forcing him to look at me. “What is it? Tell me.”
He sighed, his eyes still not meeting mine. “I don’t want you to see the demon that lives in me.”
There it was, no matter what we’ve done together, he’ll always see me as this blue-eyed angel with pale blond hair, a misleading mask of innocence that he can’t get past to see the real me.
“I’m very friendly with that demon,” I said, stepping up on my tippy toes to his level, and searching those deep and brooding eyes. “Look at me.” He did with reluctance, and I smirked, tapping his nose. “We do this together or not at all, you understand?”
“Yes,” he answered, resting his forehead against mine.
Miguel was squirming under our feet like a worm, trying to wiggle his way to safety. It brought the task back at hand.
“Where do you think you’re going, you little shit?” Alex asked the man whose minutes continued to dwindle. After a kick to his stomach, Miguel instinctively curled up into the fetal position and groaned in pain.
Peter leaned out the window and whistled. “Are we good?”
“Yeah,” Alex replied, waving him off. “My girl and I got it from here. We’ll see you later tonight.”
“Sure enough,” Peter said, nodding his head at me, drumming the side of the door with his hand. “We’ll set up camp and text you the directions.”
Adriana poked her head out of her side of the car and smiled. “Godspeed, Alex and Madison.”
“Godspeed,” we replied.
The language they used was different, but I was digging it. It was a contradiction to the murderers and thieves who lied within.
Waving goodbye to our good friends, we waited until their car was out of sight before turning our attention back to Miguel. The field we were in was a fair distance from the road, concealed by golden wheat swaying in the breeze. It was an idyllic setting and far too good for a man like Miguel but letting him live was no longer a choice.
&nbs
p; It boiled down to survival.
Ours.
“Here, kid, hold this,” Alex said, handing me the shotgun as he yanked Miguel up on his knees.
The tape was peeling at the corners of his mouth as he talked. There was a strain on his face and sweat dripping from his forehead. We watched him struggle for a few minutes, thoroughly entertained by his efforts.
“I’m sorry, I can’t fucking take it anymore.” Alex laughed as he peeled off the tape and pulled the rolled-up sock out of his mouth. “You have something you want to share before my girl blows your fucking head off?”
Alex wanted me to kill him?
The weight of the shotgun suddenly felt like a thousand pounds, the implications of what I was about to do dawning on me.
“¡Pinche gringo culero!”
“What did he say?” I asked.
“He called me a fucking white asshole,” Alex answered with a shrug. “I’ve been called worse.”
“Go ahead, kill me,” Miguel spat.
“Oh, we fully plan to, don’t you worry,” Alex said.
“But when you kill me, you’re killing yourself and everyone you love. Marcos will come for you. No matter where you go, he’ll hunt you down and shoot you like a filthy dog. Your life and your bitch’s life will be over,” he snapped his fingers, “like that.”
Miguel was confident in his words, smug even, and that struck immense fear in me. Suddenly, it wasn’t about getting rid of some annoyance, someone who was bothersome; it was about my world, my life, the very existence of what he was threatening. Alex was everything to me: the thoughts in my brain, the air in my lungs, and the blood that coursed through my veins.
If he died, I died.
It was as simple as that.
“Then he kills us,” Alex said, pulling me close. “Those threats mean absolutely nothing to me. They won’t save your miserable life. The only thing that was keeping you breathing was your way into the senator’s mansion, but you couldn’t keep your fucking hands to yourself. So, here we are.”
Miguel scoffed. “Yes, here we are.”
The sudden vibration of the phone startled me. The gun slipped from my hand, and Alex’s quick reflexes caught it in mid-air. He laughed, rubbing my back comfortingly as I pulled the cell out of my pocket. It was Miguel’s iPhone, and on the front screen flashing in neon blue was the name ‘Marcos.’
“Oh, fuck,” I said, showing the face to Alex. “What do we do?”
“We answer it,” he said, taking it from my hand and pressing it to his ear. “Hello, this is Miguel’s phone. How may we help you?”
“You and your boyfriend are dead, bonita.” Miguel cackled.
One second without Alex would feel like a lifetime of unendurable pain. I just hoped that death greeted me first.
Shaking my head and dispelling those morbid thoughts out of my brain, I turned my attention back to Alex as he chatted away to our soon-to-be killer like they were old friends.
“Yes, currently, we’re in Iowa. We didn’t quite make it to Saint Louis. Oh, no, I fully intend on killing him. Yeah, he’s still able to talk.” Alex swung around and smiled. “Your brother wants to speak with you.”
Miguel nodded as Alex walked over to him and held the phone to his ear. “Hello, brother. Do you know what he fucking did to me? Pinche puto…” He paused and listened, slowly his arrogant face turned pale. “Gloria?”
I watched as the world came crashing down on him. The next thing I knew, he was pleading with his brother in Spanish, terror overcoming his once-fearless features.
“No, no, Marcos, I didn’t know...” Miguel cried.
I heard the distinct click on the earpiece of the phone as the line went dead. Miguel’s eyes went wide with delirium as the only leverage he had was gone, simply vanished into thin air…just like that.
“It seems like you’ve overestimated your brother’s loyalty to you,” Alex said, cracking the phone in two and throwing the pieces far into the trees.
“Marcos hired you to kill me.” It wasn’t a question.
I shot my eyes towards Alex, waiting for him to deny it. He never did.
“You have a nasty habit of touching things that aren’t yours, don’t you?” Alex said, crouching down to Miguel’s level.
“I didn’t know Gloria belonged to Marcos.”
“Bullshit!”
Miguel snapped his head up. “I didn’t know until afterwards—"
“You raped the woman he loves, and you think he’s going to let you off on a measly excuse like that? I didn’t know? Don’t embarrass yourself,” Alex said, rising to his feet.
“But...but...he told me...”
“But, but, but, he told you what? That it didn’t matter? That you could just fucking touch and taint whatever you wanted? He lied.”
“So, what? He sent me here to die then?” Miguel asked.
“In a way, yes, but mainly he sent you here because I needed a favor.”
“A favor?”
“Marcos is a busy man and was unavailable to help me out, so he sent you instead—his worthless fucking brother. And as thanks for his generosity, I offered to put a bullet into your fucking skull.”
“Why didn’t he do it himself, huh? Coward!” Miguel snorted, anger now taking the place of fear.
“He doesn’t ever want to see your fucking face again. That’s why.” Alex laughed. “Are you that ignorant? Did you not fucking know?”
My mind was swirling with this world that Alex created, so intricate and entwined with murder, was slowly revealing itself to me. Once again, he purposely kept me out to hide that pesky little devil.
“So, this…” Miguel gestured around the empty wheat field, “was a set-up? You’ve planned to kill me all along?”
“Yes. It was business and nothing personal. I was taking out Marcos’ trash.” He put the shotgun back into my hands. “Now that we’re up to date, is there any last-minute grievances you would like to air, or sins you would like to confess?”
“Fuck you!” Miguel answered.
“All right then, good talk,” Alex said, clapping his hands as he turned to face me. “How are you feeling?”
“Well, other than finding out that you’ve been lying to me,” I replied, hiking the gun up and trying to get comfortable with its odd dimensions.
“I didn’t lie; I just withheld certain information from you.”
I rolled my eyes. “Same difference.”
Pushing the barrel of the gun to the side, he settled his body in front of me and pressed my face against his chest. He smelled good. I turned away, trying to hold onto my anger as he gripped my hips and pulled me flush against him.
Alex surrounded me as he buried his nose in my hair. “I won’t do it again.”
“You promise?” My voice lost in the fabric of his shirt, but always aware and innately attuned to me, he heard every syllable.
“I can’t hide the truth from you. You’re the angel that dwells inside me now.”
“¿Que chingados?” Miguel groaned. “Fucking kill me already!”
“Fuck off, asshole, I’m having a moment with my girl!” Alex growled, his mouth getting lower and lower to mine.
The intensity and duration of his kisses were different each time, some soft and gentle, and others forceful and severe, but they always made me weak in the knees.
I felt the gun slowly slipping away as gravity took charge. It was going to drop in: four, three, two...one.
Alex pulled away from me and quickly placed his hand over mine. He wrapped his fingers around my own, intertwining them, and keeping the shotgun securely within our grasp.
“We’re not going to make it to Kansas City, are we?” I asked, licking my lips, still feeling the lingering effects of his kisses.
“We’ll be lucky if we make it out of this fucking field,” he said, taking a step back and glancing down at the gun. “You ready?”
The distraction he gave snatched away and leaving me scared shitless.
“I�
��ve never killed before,” I croaked as a large lump festered in the back of my throat.
“There’s nothing to it, baby. It’s like all those bull’s-eyes we’ve shot millions of times in the desert.”
I laughed nervously. “Yeah, that’s so not the same thing.”
“It is always hard the first time you do it. If you weren’t nervous, I’d be a little worried,” Alex said, moving to stand behind me. “Now, lift it up, keeping your arms strong, and point it at your target.”
Raising the gun, I aimed it at Miguel as he mouthed a prayer. My heart thumped against my chest, and my hands shook. There was sweat rolling down my forehead, and I tried to hold my courage.
“All you got to do now is shoot the fucker.”
I hesitated, squinting against the bright shine of the overhead sun, and my finger hovered over the trigger.
“Breathe in and out, baby, keep it steady and slow,” Alex whispered into my ear. “Take your time. There’s no rush.”
The warmth of his body pressed against mine was soothing. It eased my anxiety and kept me focused.
“He’s not human. He’s a worthless piece of shit. He’s a rapist like Terry. Men like him don’t deserve to live. Don’t be afraid to kill him.”
“I’m not,” I said, taking a deep breath. “Don’t let go of me.”
“I’ll never let go of you,” he said, trailing those seductive kisses along my neck. “On the count of three.”
“One…” I closed my eyes.
“Two…” He held me tighter.
“Three…” I pulled the trigger.
Chapter Seventeen
It happened fast.
The gun discharged with a loud boom. It reverberated off the surrounding trees, quieting the joyous birds, and causing this painful ringing in my ears. The force of the recoil was dominant; it buckled my elbows and slammed my body back into Alex’s chest. He had his arms wrapped around my waist, keeping me steady and upright.
The spray of the sticky dampness hitting my face told me what I already knew.
