El Diablo

by M. Robinson

  They went down like water, one right after the other. I didn’t realize how strong the shots would be. I couldn’t remember anything after the last one went down. The rest of the night I spent blacked out.

  I hope I didn’t say anything stupid…

  I opened my mouth to say something, quickly shutting it, not knowing what to say. I heard him shuffling across the room, I peeked open one eye, thinking he had left so I could pass back out. Forget this ever happened.

  I wasn’t so lucky.

  “Here,” he coaxed from above me.

  “Go away, Martinez. Let me bask in my humiliation for a little while longer.” I slowly flipped back over, peeling my eyes open one at a time. Barely able to make out his form, the light was so bright behind him. Rapidly blinking, cursing myself once again for being so careless, as he called it. He was holding a glass of ice water and some buttered toast. I sluggishly sat up, pulling the sheet with me as I leaned my bare back against the cold headboard, shuddering. Grabbing the water, I gulped it down. Welcoming the cool sensation it left in its wake.

  “Oh my God, life changing,” I practically moaned, taking a bite of my toast.

  “You need to get dressed,” he repeated with an agitated tone, causing me to peer up at him.

  His eyes bared something I couldn’t quite place, too shocked he was showing me any emotion, when he had been so reserved all this time. Sharing what he wanted, never what he didn’t.

  “Are we going somewhere?” I asked, needing to know.

  “Yes,” he simply stated. Our eyes never wavered from one another, completely captivated in each other’s stares.

  “Is everything alright?”

  “Nothing is ever alright.”

  “Are we—”

  “I'm in the business of making things wrong. I'm not your Prince Charming, and once you realize that, it would make things a lot easier.”

  “On you?”

  “No. You. I know who I am. It's you that doesn't,” he paused to let his words sink in. “Now get dressed. I’ll be in my office.” He turned and left.

  I stayed there for I don’t know how long, rationalizing what he had just said. Trying to figure out what happened last night, racking my brain for memories if I had said something to him. I shouldn’t have.

  Once I took a shower and brushed my teeth, I felt so much better. Almost like a whole new person. I dressed casually in a maxi skirt and tank top with sandals, leaving my hair down with just some mascara, blush and lip gloss. Foregoing my usual make-up. I knew I took longer than he probably expected, but he didn’t say anything when I walked into his office ready to go. We rode in the back of the limo in an awkward silence, listening to the rain pelt off the roof. Craving for him to put his hand on my thigh like he had the night before. Yearning for him to comfort me with a simple touch of his hand.

  He didn’t.

  He was staring out the dark, tinted window, leaning against the armrest on the door. Rubbing his fingers across his lips, lost in his own thoughts, in his own demons. In his own world like I had never witnessed before.

  The car ride could have lasted a minute, an hour, or a few hours. Time just seemed to stand still. It felt as though every second that passed between us was another moment in time for him. Another place he revisited often, or even worse, he never left.

  He was there…

  But he wasn’t.

  Without thinking, I reached over and placed my hand on top of his. Lacing our fingers, giving him a reassuring hold. Wanting to provide him with some sort of comfort if I could. His eyes quickly darted down at my kind gesture as if he was waiting for something I didn’t quite understand. His hand remained lax, and he didn’t return my sentiment. After a few seconds he looked back out the window, not giving my affection any more consideration. Too consumed by his own plaguing thoughts.

  We drove through a set of huge cast iron gates, up a long narrow road surrounded by trees, for what I assumed would be for privacy. My heart sped up a little more, the closer we got to our final destination, not knowing where the hell he was taking me. Tree after tree whipped by the tinted windows, casting shadows in our path. Blurring into the background. Fading into the distance. The trees suddenly cleared, and we were faced with fields of what looked to be daisies. A massive house appeared out of nowhere with acres of breathtaking greenery surrounding the property. It was then that I realized…

  We were at a cemetery.

  As soon as the driver hit the brakes, I opened the door and exited the car. I needed to get out before she had the chance to speak. I knew she had tons of questions that’d been attacking her mind, since I told her to get dressed that morning. Last night proved one thing, and one thing only. I was letting my guard down, allowing weakness to seep in through the cracks. I was letting her in. I couldn’t fucking help myself. She was turning me into a goddamn pussy. I was always the man who exuded nothing but control and power. I thrived on it.

  It was the only reason I was still walking.

  Still breathing.

  Still fucking alive.

  I couldn’t trust myself with her. I had proven that too many times over the years. She was falling in love with ‘The Devil,’ now I needed her to run away from my hell.

  “Stay,” I ordered the bodyguards. Stepping out of the limo, pulling Lexi out with me. Our hands still entwined from her gesture during the ride. The driver handed me the oversized, black umbrella, giving me the excuse to let go of her hand.

  Ignoring the hurt look that passed over her face. She peered up at me, searching my eyes for the answers she desperately wanted. Opening her mouth to confront me again, but quickly closing it when she caught a glimpse of my ominous glare. I didn’t want to provide her with any ease or reassurance. That’s not what this was about, it was the exact opposite, and she needed to comprehend what the reality of living in my life would bring.

  “Come on.” I nodded, holding the umbrella over the both of us. Leading the way for her to finally meet the man behind the expensive fucking suit.

  The closer we got to my reality, the more I realized I was doing the right thing. Until there were no more steps to take, no more thoughts to doubt, no more emotions to pull. Until there was nothing but the truth, staring back at us. Handing Lexi the umbrella, I stepped out into the pouring rain, not caring that every inch of my body was being covered with the downpour, which fell from the sky. Looking up as Heaven’s tears streamed down my face, and fell to my feet. I vaguely watched the lightening before me, subconsciously counting the seconds until thunder would strike.

  The storm was getting closer…

  I wanted it to cleanse me, save me from my impulses, my decisions, my choices. The pain, the misery, the hurt, were as real as the women buried in front of us. As much as I wanted it to go away, it never would. It was a daily reminder of what I lost.

  Of who I am.

  I watched Lexi from the corner of my eyes, holding the umbrella in one hand, the other rose to her mouth as she read the two gravestones. Taking in the fresh daisies I had delivered every morning, catching her attention.

  “Alejandro is this—”

  I didn’t falter, putting an end to the fantasy in her head. I spoke with conviction, “This is what happens to the women who love me.”

  Our eyes locked.

  “Welcome to my Hell.”

  A loud crash of thunder struck above us. She shuddered, sucking in a breath, her eyes widening. Wrapping her arms around her tiny frame for warmth and comfort, taking in my words.

  “This is my life, Lexi. People die around me daily, from my bare hands and from others. I’ve killed people just to prove a point, slaughtered men without thinking twice about it. I am a ruthless motherfucker who prefers torture as a form of vengeance. My hands are still covered in my mother’s blood. And my sister’s…”

  “Did you—”

  “Yes. I may not have pulled the trigger, but that didn’t save them from dying either.” I stepped away, turning my back on her. I neede
d some space. I had never admitted those words to anyone.

  “I know what you do is dangerous. I know that there’s a reason why you’re like this. Oh my God… this explains so much. But I know you… I see through you. Under the expensive suits there is a man with a huge heart. I’m living proof of that. You’re not evil. You just think you are.”

  She stepped forward, dropping the umbrella to the ground. I could hear her come up behind me. Reaching her arms out. “It’s okay, Alejandro, I’m so sorry, I know what it’s like to lose a parent.”

  I turned to face her, the rain pouring all over us now.

  “I know what it feels like to be alone, to feel like you have no one on your side. But you have me. I’m here for you, no matter what,” she wept, her voice giving out on her. Reaching for me.

  I couldn’t take this much longer. I didn’t want her sympathy, her concern, or her fucking love.

  “Don’t touch me, Lexi, you need to stay away from me,” I cautioned, moving her hands away from my body.

  “Alejandro, please… please… just let me…” she pleaded in a voice of pure desperation and sorrow.

  “Don’t fucking touch me. I’m warning you. What is it going to take for you realize I’m no good for you?!” I shouted, raking my hands through my wet hair.

  She didn’t fucking listen, continuing her assault, trying to touch my face, my arms, and my chest. Her hands burned as if she was touching me with holy water. Sinking further into Hell, right along with me. It seared everywhere she placed them, everywhere she touched me, leaving behind deeper scars than the ones I already carried.

  “Why won’t you just let me in? I can help…we can help each other. Why do you insist on fighting this?" she implored, gesturing between us. “I understand you don’t want me to end up like the other women who have loved you, but that is not your choice to make. It’s mine,” she stubbornly declared, not letting up with her hands on me.

  “You have no fucking clue what you’re signing up for.” I roughly jabbed my finger toward their graves.

  “My life isn’t made for you, it’s made for no one but me, it’s the price I pay for taking lives that don’t belong to me,” I gritted through a clinched jaw. Hoping she would back the fuck away from me.

  “I’m so sorry, Alejandro, but I’m not going anywhere,” she mourned, leaning in to engulf me in her arms.

  I roughly grabbed her wrists tighter than I intended to, holding her in place. I seethed close to her face, “Then I might as well start digging your grave right next to my mother and sister. You can finally fucking hate me when I lay you to rest.”

  I let go with a shove, leaving her standing there. Trying like hell to figure out what it was going to take to get rid of this girl.

  Before I killed her too.

  I sat up startled, looking around my dark room, searching for the man that usually lurked in the shadows. Sadly, only getting glimpses of the empty armchair every time lightning struck, illuminating the whole room. Light and darkness took turns, over and over again, but no Martinez. The storm hadn’t let up all day, the rain was steady, and the thunder was loud. Memories of my childhood came flooding back. Snuggling up to my mom when the storms were bad. I wished I had that comfort now.

  I couldn’t sleep.

  I’d been tossing and turning for the last few hours unable to forget about what happened that morning. Closing my eyes, only to see two gravestones behind my lids. I never expected what he shared with me, not for one second. As much as I was relieved he was finally giving me a piece of his puzzle, I was also devastated he was using it to push me away. As if he thought he wasn’t worthy of having anyone care for him, or wanting to stick with him through the good and the bad.

  It hurt my heart just thinking about him.

  Reminding me that we had more in common than I could have ever imagined. When I got back to the limo, he wasn’t there waiting for me. It was only the bodyguards standing, watching my every move. All four men were still there.

  He left by himself.

  He shouldn’t have left on his own. Unprotected in a world where he was worth more dead than alive. The whole drive home I couldn’t shake the feeling that something bad would happen. Anxiety had taken over and the minutes felt like hours.

  He never came back to the penthouse that night. We didn’t have dinner together. I hadn’t seen him since he left me standing in the cemetery with the reality of his harsh truths. I spent the whole day curled up on the couch closest to the front door. Afraid I would miss him if he unexpectedly showed up.

  Waiting for him to come home.

  To me.

  It was around midnight by the time I picked myself up, and went to bed, hoping that maybe, just maybe he would end up in my room.

  He didn’t.

  I rolled over, looking at the clock on my nightstand. It read three-thirty A.M. I groaned, crossing my arms over my face. There was no way I was going to get any sleep, not until I knew he was home. I sprawled out, stretching, not realizing I had been curled up in a ball most of the night. Sheltering myself from the storm. The sheets were sticking to my anxious, overheated skin, making me burn up, even though I was just wearing a tank top and panties. Taking a deep, exaggerated breath, I untangled my body from the confining linens. I swung my legs over the edge of the bed, and placed my feet on the cold hardwood floor, stifling a yawn.

  Before I knew it, I was at my door, turning the handle. I stepped out of my room, peering down the black hallway toward his room. The silence was deafening all around me, eerie flashes of thunder had my heart beating a mile a minute. My feet padded against the marble floor, a force pulling me to him by a chain.

  A chain that only he ever held.

  I was a few steps away from his bedroom when I noticed his door was ajar. He never left it open. I’d never even seen what was lying beyond the door, it was the only room in his penthouse I’d never been in. My stomach fluttered and my heart pounded with each step that brought me closer to his room, silently praying he would be in there.

  Safe.

  I slowly, quietly pushed the heavy wood open, gingerly stepping inside. Being careful not to make any noises in case he was in there. The room was dead silent, not even a sound of a clock to break the monotony. I knew one thing for sure, the man never slept. The events of the day must have taken a toll on him if he was sound asleep. His body physically giving up on him, when his mind was probably still reeling in his slumber. For some selfish reason the thought provided me with some comfort, that maybe he had as shitty of a day as I did. Worried about me, as much as I was worried about him.

  I felt his presence before I actually saw him, his scent immediately assaulting my senses as soon as I was in the room. I stopped dead in my tracks when the full moon illuminated his latent body. He was asleep on the left side of the big king sized mattress, a massive, black wooden four-poster bed, centered on the far wall. Each post had intricately carved designs, towering up toward the ceiling. Four vast beams connected into a square up above, draped with black, sheer curtains that fell to the floor near the head of the bed. The carvings continued on the headboard that extended the height of the posts, and onto the low footboard. It reminded me of a king’s bed in medieval times.

  He was lying shirtless under the dark canopy, on his back with one defined, toned arm underneath the pillow behind his head. Accentuating his chiseled abs and bare chest. The other arm, placed at his side, pulling the sheet that was resting on his lower abdomen, taut. Leaving very little to the imagination.

  I stood there for a few minutes, just admiring him, taking in every last inch of this man’s muscular body. He was a work of art. Being this handsome had to be a sin. As his chest moved, my eyes caught a glimpse of something shiny on his torso. Stepping closer, I noticed a silver cross hanging from the chain he always wore. The bulky, huge, silver expensive watch he normally wore too was gone, but the black, beaded bracelet remained secure around his right wrist. My eyes continued down his length.

  E
ven in his sleep, he exuded dominance.

  I couldn’t take my mesmerized gaze off of him.

  Now that I knew he was home, sleeping safely in his bed, I could go back to my room and get some sleep. I should have never intruded in the first place. But I didn’t want to go. The empty space beside him called my name, my desires were winning the battle over sensibility.

  I wanted to lay next to him, I wanted him to take me in his arms and protect me from all the ugliness of our world. I knew his decision to take me to the cemetery and give me a peek into his past, a glimpse of the life he led was meant to scare me away but the truth was it only made me want to get closer to him, I wanted to be with him now more than ever. It was as if his dark side was luring me in, the pull he had on me was palpable, I could no longer resist. The closer I got to the mattress, the more I realized this is where I belonged. In his bed, falling asleep next to him every night, and waking up to him every morning…

  With him.

  I didn’t want to be alone anymore.

  My fingers glided along the silk sheets, feeling the soft fabric under my touch. Gently sitting down on the bed, careful not to wake him. Scooting my body up to lay next to him. Peering at the side of his devilishly handsome face, watching him sleep, exactly the way I imagined he watched me for months. Never understanding why, until that very moment.

  Peace.

  My transfixed gaze went back to the cross, hanging low on his chest. His lull breathing causing it to rise and fall, calling for me to reach out and touch it.

  It all happened so fast, exactly the way everything had since the first moment I saw him.

  One minute my hand was in the air, reaching to touch him. Next, my fingers grazed his cross as I was roughly flipped onto my back, shuddering, gasping for breath as he sadistically gripped me around my throat. Suffocating in pain from the brutal grasp around my windpipe.

  I couldn’t breathe.

  My legs kicked, my feet sliding on the silk sheet as I fought for my life. My fingers tearing into his, clawing and ripping at his hands. Opening my mouth, gasping, silently pleading with him to release me. I continued to struggle, becoming weak and losing my fight. He straddled my waist, his heavy weight lying directly on top of my small frame, hovering above me. One hand wrapped around my throat the other pointing a gun directly at the center of my forehead. His face inches away from mine, he opened his dark, dilated eyes, they were vacant of any life. Black pools stared down at me as I finally realized, I just met…