You Loved Me At My Ugliest

by Evie Harper

  Suddenly, I feel my wrist become loose and quickly glance to my hand, realizing he’s cutting the zip ties off me. My whole body relaxes as he does the same to my other hand.

  Asshole grasps my upper arm and pulls me to stand. He walks us to the door as the other man opens it.

  We walk through the doorway and instantly, a warm breeze swirls around my body. It feels amazing. It’s warm, but it’s much better than sweating my ass off in that small, hot box of a room.

  My eyes take in the expansive steel warehouse. The building is made of tin and cement floors. It’s a big space, but the rows of shelves filled with goods make it look small and compact. There are four long rows of products, two rows of rectangle crates and two rows of square boxes. Knowing that Serrano is the one who has kidnapped me, I’d say the long crates are full of guns and the square boxes are drugs.

  Asshole roughly yanks me left, and we cross to the other side of the warehouse. I notice another tin box we’re about to pass. This one is bigger than the one I just left, and it has a glass window. As we pass the room, I hear shouts, but have no idea what the man is screaming because it’s in Spanish, but I do know that voice, that unforgettable sleazy, chilling voice.

  Serrano.

  I peer over my shoulder and see him standing in front of six men, waving his arms around and yelling. He sees me and points to me and continues to shout. All his men turn toward me with hard, angry stares. I inhale harshly when I spot them all wearing automatic guns over their shoulders. Looks like they’re ready for war. And I’m the bait.

  Asshole keeps dragging me all the way to the other side of the warehouse. I spot two exits on my way around and one big roller door, which is pulled down.

  Abruptly, we stop and Asshole turns me toward another room with a door covered in chipped, -red painted door. It looks to be a similar size to the first one I was in.

  The door is thrown open and with a gasp, I slap my hands over my mouth and nose as a foul stench I've never smelled before hits my senses.

  I'm thrust through the doorway. The dark room comes into full view, and my eyes widen, and I gag at what I see. My body tries to bend with my gags, but Asshole’s hand painfully constricts around my arm, keeping my body upright while I continue to gag at the sight of countless women's dead bodies, all of them headless. However, heads with open and closed eyes are scattered throughout the room.

  Asshole laughs beside me as I begin to push my body into his to try to get as far away from the bodies as possible. It’s too much, too much blood, too much death, too much hopelessness in one room, in one world.

  Asshole laughs and says, “Say hello to the O’Connors’ sluts. This is where we keep them while we dump them one at a time, better to be caught with one dead body than ten, hey?”

  I can’t stop my eyes from racing across each body, each head, looking into the eyes of so many. A sob explodes from my mouth from the waste of life in this room. The callous and vicious deaths these women met at the end of their lives shreds my heart to pieces.

  The man begins to push me into the room and I panic. With my heart thundering against my chest, I claw at the man so he can't leave me alone.

  "Oh, my God! No, please, God, no! Don't put me in there. No, please!" I beg. Screams burst from my mouth as he continues to force me into the small room.

  My feet hit a body as I'm being pushed inside, and I scream louder, "No, no, no, no, please, fucking, please, don't leave me in here." Tears fall shamelessly as I continue to beg.

  The man gives me one strong shove, and I'm falling backwards, my screams silent and my eyes wide.

  I hit the ground, but my fear is confirmed because I don't feel cement. I feel soft, sticky flesh. I scream and pounce from the spot only to have my hand land on oily, slimy hair. Another scream and I jump again and run toward the still open door.

  The two men laugh cruelly as they close the door before I can get there in time.

  I bang my fists against the steel door and scream until my voice is hoarse and my hands feel bruised. It must be over an hour later when I finally stop the screaming and turn my back to the door, looking into the dark, not able to see all the death, but knowing it’s in here with me.

  My panic subsiding, the smell smacks me in the face again. Covering my mouth and nose, tears fall rapidly. I sink to the floor. When my foot bumps something, I quickly pull my legs as close as possible to my body, and wrap my arms around them before I rest my head on my knees.

  A soft cry explodes from my mouth, and my body trembles so badly that my back aches from my shakes. Closing my eyes tightly, I plead with myself to believe I'm somewhere else. I picture Joey, our fence and all the times we’ve laughed, the games we played and the clouds we watched pass over us while our lives continued on their path, each day new clouds, but the same girl and boy hoping, praying for a better future.

  I’m unsure how long I’m there for, forcing myself to imagine another time and place, when loud gunshots thunder through the warehouse. I freeze, trying to figure out what’s going on. Then there’s a booming explosion and the building rocks as if there’s an earthquake. Heat hits the room quickly and my back stings from leaning on the door. Hastily moving away, I jump off it, out of fear of burning myself.

  I stand on something and knowing it’s a body or head, I scream. This time the shout is of frustration and anger. I fist my hands and dig my nails into my palms with all my strength, hoping to feel anything other than the sensation of bugs crawling all over my skin. I shiver intensely again right before gunfire begins again. There’s a fight going on.

  Joey? Joey’s here!

  I pound my fists on the door again, screaming his name repeatedly, hoping he hears me and saves me from this room filled with these unfortunate souls.

  Chapter Seventeen

  They Haven’t Seen Anything Yet

  Joseph

  Bent at the knees, I’m resting against a tree in Valle De Rio Forest, a forty-five minute drive from Acapulco.

  I’m fifty meters from Serrano’s warehouse where he stores his shipments of drugs and guns before flying it all off to Tampico for their illegal boat ride into the United States.

  Serrano thinks he’s important. He’s become a cocky bastard who's forgotten that he’s easily replaceable.

  To my right, about ten meters away, is William and at the same distance to my left, is Alexander. Matthew is across from me on the other side of the warehouse. We’re counting the guards, taking notes on how many there are, where they’re walking and if they’re looking into the hills. If they are, then we know most likely there are snipers, and we need to take them out first before we go in forcefully.

  From what I can see, Serrano doesn’t have any extra guys patrolling from when I was here a few months ago. He actually thinks I’ll stroll up and talk to him? Hasn’t he learnt anything about from me shooting his cousin? I’m impulsive and not forgiving at all.

  I’m not going in easy. I’m storming in firing my AK47, firepower and muscle. Those men in that warehouse helping Serrano are dead men walking.

  They took Lexi. They harmed her. I'm going to show them what truly lies beneath this skin, the black, corrupted and twisted creature my father created. They think they've seen ugly. They haven't seen anything yet.

  Catching movement from my right, I spot William and Matthew jogging toward me.

  “Well?” I ask impatiently.

  “All I can see are two men walking around the warehouse in opposite directions. They pass each other on the south side approximately every seven minutes,” Matthew explains.

  “Same, I got a man walking by the west side approximately every six minutes,” William mutters.

  I feel movement behind me, turn and see Alex. He whispers in a puffed breath, “I got the same on the east side, one man every six minutes.”

  We all glance back at the warehouse and find the two men walking past each other again. “They’re passing every seven minutes on the north side as well,” I state.

&
nbsp; “Looking into the hills?” I question.

  “No,” they all state at the same time.

  I peer around once more and come up with a plan.

  “Let’s split up and take them out on the east and west sides when they’re alone. Two on one should be easy and quiet. Matthew and William, you two go east. Alexander and I will go west. Then meet at the north door and we’ll blow our way inside if it’s locked,” I instruct.

  They all nod, and we move carefully through the forest. I follow Alexander closely, both of us wearing camouflage pants and black shirts. It was the best we could get on short notice to blend into the forest; hopefully, we don’t get seen, but if we do, it will be the same outcome anyway, lots of firepower and they all die.

  Fencing surrounds the warehouse, but it’s a shitty protective barrier as it has split wires creating holes to climb through all the way around.

  We stand by a part of the wire fence that’s among some trees and shrubs until the guard walks past us, and we can slowly come up behind him before he turns the corner.

  Alex jumps through the fence before we agree to go. I climb in after him, cursing under my breath. “Dickhead is desperate to kill something. Better not get me killed.”

  Alex strolls up behind the guard, and pulls his handgun with a silencer out from behind his back, and shoots the man straight through the head. The guard falls hard to ground with a thump.

  Seeing the man dead on the ground doesn’t move my emotions at all. I’ve turned everything off. I have no cares in this world, except for Lexi.

  Alex and I stride quietly toward the north side of the building. We turn the corner and find Will and Matt coming around the opposite corner, AK47’s raised and ready to fire. We all meet and stop at the steel door.

  I test the handle and find it’s unlocked. Fucking idiots.

  I raise my own AK47, turn to the guys and count to three with my fingers in the air before swinging the door open quickly.

  There’s a man by the door who instantly begins shouting, “Intruso!”

  I pull the trigger and spray him with bullets. He drops to the ground with a loud thud.

  Yelling and the pounding of feet heading toward us moves us into action.

  I drag the dead man to his feet, and position him in front of me as a shield. I hold him by his jacket; however, his head lolls forward so I prop him up higher to protect my face.

  “Stay here and then get behind me. Have my back if I need you. I want these kills,” I growl to my cousins.

  I catch theirs nods as I step out from behind the shelves, and the dead man’s body gets belted with bullets repeatedly. Bullets fly past my ears and shoulders. I feel a sting to my thigh, but it’s not enough to drop the man in front of me.

  My veins bulge in my forearms as cramps run up my arms from holding the weight of the lifeless body.

  The gunshots cease, and I know it’s because they must be reloading.

  I drop the dead body and stare straight ahead. Three men reload their mags.

  I raise my AK47 and shoot left to right and back again, making sure I’m hitting each of them at least once. My entire focus is on the men in front of me, but distantly, I can sense my cousins beside me, ready to fire when I run out of ammunition.

  The guard's yell and scream as my bullets hit them straight on. They have no barrier protecting them from the harsh bullets which pierce their skin and organs.

  I stop firing when I know each man would have taken three or more bullets each. There is no way they could stand let alone fire their guns.

  I spot feet running toward us from under the shelves and put my hand out, signaling my cousins to retreat behind the shelves.

  When we’re hidden behind the shelves stacked with long crates, I look down to check we’re not exposed. Relieved, boxes rest on the ground, so our feet and our position remains concealed.

  We wait. Guns raised, no one rounds the corner.

  “We could have talked this through, amigo,” Serrano shouts over the shelves. “Let’s talk now. Put your guns down and let’s discuss, eh?” Serrano’s voice sounds cocky. It eats at my anger, fury exploding in me that the asshole doesn’t yet see his last moments on this earth are the ones he’s wasting right now, trying to talk to me.

  Will taps my arm and gestures to Serrano with a flick of his head. I understand what he wants, he wants fireworks.

  I nod and move a crate over as quietly as I can and peek through to Serrano. He’s standing just in front of his dead men, with four guys beside him, guns in position.

  “Guns down, Serrano, if you want to speak to me!” I yell, loud and clear, in a gruff voice.

  Alex turns his back to us, watching for anyone who may approach us from around the other side of the shelves. Matt lies on the floor, watching for feet moving around the warehouse and Will has his gun aimed upwards to watch for anyone who may be climbing the shelves.

  We’re ready at all angles, but something tells me that Serrano doesn’t have that many men around. He’s arrogant. I bet all the men he has left are standing with him right now.

  I watch through the boxes as Serrano turns to his men. He directs two behind some nearby shelves and says, “Abajo,” loud enough for me to hear to the two men still standing behind him. Those men lower their weapons to the ground at Serrano’s command.

  “All right Joseph, no guns. Now come out and speak man to man.”

  Placing my gun on the floor, I take a grenade from Will, and place it in my back pocket.

  I step out from behind the shelves with my hands up.

  I stand directly across from Serrano. My feet braced apart with my arms by my side. With my chin low to my chest, my eyes are narrowed on Serrano as my jaw ticks with raw, fierce rage.

  Serrano smirks as soon as he sees me. “You’ve been nothing but fucking trouble. Messing with my cousin and now my business.” He shakes his head and yells out to my cousins, “You had a good thing, O’Connors. Fuckload of money, no responsibilities. Now your pop’s gone, it all lands on your shoulders and God help you because now you need to prove yourselves. All the cartels are gonna come after you, see what you got, see how big your balls are.”

  Done with listening to his bullshit already, I pull the grenade out of my pocket, and I pull the clip straight away.

  Serrano’s face pales and his knees bend, ready to run.

  “These balls big enough?” I ask, holding up the grenade before throwing it directly at the two men standing armed behind the shelves.

  Serrano and his men sprint off in different directions just as the grenade explodes.

  I race back to my cousins, and we all crouch, bracing ourselves for the debris that will come flying our way. The strength of the grenade forces us to the ground on our hands, and an almost unbearable heatwave washes over our bodies.

  My cousins and I stand quickly and peer around the corner. It’s gruesome; we see legs and arms strewn around the room, no longer attached to bodies. Bile rises in my stomach from the sight. I brace myself on the shelf just as I hear my name. I step back and strain my hearing, listening harder.

  “Joey!” I hear a scream and know it’s Lexi. I look through the shelves and see a room with a red door on the other side of the warehouse.

  Relief floods my body at the sound her voice, hearing her strong voice through the warehouse. It means she’s alive and still alert, so hopefully she isn’t hurt any worse than losing a finger.

  I know she needs to be released, but right now, her being locked in a room is the best thing for her until I’m finished killing every motherfucker in this warehouse.

  Will counts the bodies and arms and legs and then turns to me. “Dead, all four. I can’t see Serrano though.”

  “Fuck,” Alex says from the ground, looking through the shelves. “He’s headed for the room Lexi’s shouting from.”

  I drop my empty gun and sprint off toward the room. I turn left at the row of shelves as I see Serrano struggling to unlock the door to the room.

/>   I speed up, and when I’m close, I pull my handgun from the back of my pants and jump. A roar rumbles up my chest and explodes from my mouth as I extend my arm around Serrano’s neck and maneuver him into a headlock. His arms flail around, trying to release himself, but he can’t match my strength. I twist his body around rapidly and aim my gun right over his heart and fire.

  Releasing Serrano, his body falls to the ground, thumping twice before coming to a final rest. Blood spills out from his chest on to the concrete floor.

  I turn around and take in the room. I see my cousins spanning the warehouse, going through all the rooms and shelves with their guns raised. I hear no more gunshots or shouts. The warehouse must be clear.

  Peering down, I find the keys Serrano just had lying nearby.

  I begin unlocking the door as quickly as I can.

  I hear Lexi sob and shout, “Hurry!”

  The door opens, but only swings so far before it slams back toward me. I bring my forearm up to stop it from closing.

  Her whimpers hit me hard, and my eyes quickly find a hysterical Lexi. Then the smell overwhelms me, so I cover my nose and mouth hastily. My eyes search the room, trying to find the offending odor. Immediately, my body locks up at the sight of multiple women’s bodies and unattached heads. Faces I recognize from Michael’s brothel.

  I reach out to Lexi, just as she runs straight to me, and crashing into my chest with great force. She wraps her arms around my body and fists my shirt at my back.

  “Jesus Christ,” William mutters from behind me.

  I gently push Lexi from my body. I desperately want to see her hand and find out if it’s still bleeding, and if she’s in pain, but she won’t budge. This strength is something I’ve never felt from her before.

  “Please, take me away from here,” she begs me.

  My heart shatters at hearing the sadness in her tone.

  “Lexi, let me see your hand, baby,” I ask, my voice gentle, but I’m unable to hide my panic.

  She releases her grip from me and puts both hands up in front of me.

  At first, I think I’m seeing things. She has ten fingers. My confused eyes find her sad ones, and she explains, “They lied to you. The finger was from the flight attendant on the plane. They killed her and took it,” Lexi says softly, shaking her head while tears slowly trail her face. As I track a tear, I notice swelling and bruising on her right cheek.