Every Wound We Mend

by J. E. Parker

  On the verge of vomiting, I turned my head, looking in the direction her wide-eyed stare was focused.

  What I saw made my heart stop.

  "Jade," I whispered as quietly as possible, my hardened eyes never deviating from the tall man standing a little over twenty feet behind me, a shiny Toluca PD badge clipped to his belt. "Do not move. Not until I say."

  I shouldn't have brought her back here.

  Nostrils flaring, I let the grief flowing through my veins power me as I stood on shaky legs and turned, coming face to face with a man I'd never seen before.

  But one who, at that very second, I knew I would murder with my bare hands if he took another step toward the only daughter I had left.

  Squaring my shoulders, I held his unwavering steel-grey stare as I gripped the small pepper spray canister dangling from my keychain in my palm, index finger resting on the trigger. "What is it you want?"

  El policía, who stood a foot taller than me and had curly, light-brown hair, olive skin, and was dressed in street clothes, leading me to believe he was a detective instead of a patrol officer like Clyde, that fucking demon, had been.

  "I'm not here to hurt either of you," the soon-to-be-dead cop replied, hands raised in a non-threatening gesture. "I swear it."

  If I hadn't been so terrified, I would've rolled my eyes. I believed he had no intention of hurting us about as much as I believed I was the Queen of England.

  "You haven't been easy to find, Carmen." My lungs froze. "But it looks like today is my lucky day."

  No, no, no!

  How can this be happening?

  Close to losing it, my mind whirled as I tried to figure out how Dominic had found out we were still alive and how this man had known to find us here, today of all days.

  "Now that I've found you," he continued, ignoring the mental breakdown I was close to having, and that I was sure was etched all over my face. "I just want to talk. Nothing more."

  El hombre was full of shit.

  He was one of Dominic's many puppets. Therefore, talking was the last thing he wanted to do. I just didn't know if he planned to matar us or if he'd been instructed to drag us back to El Diablo so he could kill us himself.

  A humorless chuckle snuck past my lips. "Cut the bullshit, pendejo. I may not know who you are, but I know what that"—I gestured to his badge—"means."

  I stepped forward even as Jade cried, the air thick with her fear. "Just as I know who pulls your strings."

  The man didn't get pissed like I expected.

  Instead, he dropped his hands and bent a lone brow. "So, you've met my wife then."

  Gaze narrowing, my head jerked back at his statement. I hadn't been expecting him to say such a thing. "Excuse me?"

  His smirk transformed into an eye-crinkling smile. "Sweetheart, the only person who pulls my strings is my smart-mouth wife." I glanced at the simple wedding band adorning his left hand before meeting his stare once more. "Not a piece of shit pimp who I should've put a bullet in the moment we met."

  As I'd expected, he knew El Diablo, and despite his words, just like his villainous master, he was a skilled liar. Many other women, ones who hadn't been through all that I had perhaps, would've believed the mentiras he spewed.

  But me? I wasn’t naïve.

  Anger morphing into straight-up fury, I shook my head, back teeth gritted. "You're not taking us back there to him." I paused, chest heaving. "Especially not Little One."

  "Not planning to."

  Again, el hombre was full of shit.

  "Do not lie to me. I am not—"

  "I'm only here because of Ashley," he interrupted, addressing Chiquita by her first name. Knees weakening once more, my heart dumped buckets of adrenaline into my roaring bloodstream. "I'm here because she—"

  "Do not say her name!" I shrieked, the stitches holding my broken heart together fraying. "A man—no, a monstrous coward—like you, doesn't deserve to say something so beautiful! Not after all the damage Dominic's puppets did to her. Maybe even you!"

  It was the truth.

  I hadn't met all the clients El Diablo had taken Chiquita to see. For all I knew, the man standing before me, his jaw set in apparent anger at my words, could've been one of the many who'd abused and raped her.

  Red bled into my vision at the thought.

  "No," I whispered, common sense fleeing as my grip on the pepper spray canister tightened. "I will not let you take us back there," I repeated. "Not in this lifetime or the next."

  Knowing that I was about to charge, Jade screamed, "Carmen, don't!" It was a command I didn't heed.

  Driven by rage and the need to protect her, no matter the cost, I rushed forward, my primary focus locked on the service weapon attached to the detective’s sleek leather belt.

  Feet sinking further into the mud with each step I took, I roared, the sound one of a grief-stricken madre hell-bent on ripping the predator threatening her offspring apart, limb by limb.

  El hombre’s unblinking stare widened when I lifted my hand, now six feet away, and pressed the trigger on my pepper spray, unleashing a stream of burning liquid right into his eyes, nose, and parted lips.

  He bellowed in shock or anger, I couldn't tell which, and bent over the slightest bit, shielding himself from more of the noxious chemicals I hoped were burning holes in his face.

  Even so, I wasn't done with him yet.

  Coming to a stumbling, heavy-footed stop right in front of him, I lifted my mud-caked right leg, and with every ounce of adrenaline-fueled strength I possessed, I slammed my bare shin into his groin, making him grunt in pain, then collapse.

  His knees hit the sulphuric-smelling muck just like mine had done minutes before as a string of what sounded like Italian curses, none of which I paid any attention to, flew from his mouth.

  I screamed as I dove forward and slammed my shoulder into his, knocking him to his side. Seizing the moment before he recovered and stopped me, I gripped his gun, ripping it free of the holster it was housed in, tearing the safety strap holding it secure.

  Having the upper hand, I leaped to my feet and jumped back, aiming the muzzle of the pistol at his face. "Stay down!"

  Hands shaking, I sucked in breath after breath as my lungs screamed for precious air. "If you move a single inch, I will shoot you!"

  I clicked the gun's safety off and took another step back, keeping my aim steady. "Jade, run to the car now!"

  For once, she didn't argue.

  Taking off at a speed I hadn't seen from her before, she dashed past me and up the small path that led to the road. Silence, interrupted only by my heavy breaths, filled the surrounding air.

  When I heard the car door open, then slam shut, I focused all my attention on the perro panting on the ground, his handsome face red and furious. "If you ever," I started, more than ready to pull the trigger, "come near me or mi hija again, I will kill you."

  He said nothing.

  Instead, he just stared at me, an emotion that almost looked like pride swirling in his irate gaze. "And unlike El Diablo, I'll make sure and finish the job."

  Gripping his gun tight, I wasted no time in bolting, leaving him in the disgusting mud where he belonged. Reaching the road, I spotted a Tahoe parked behind my Kia.

  Terrified that he would follow us, I stopped next to my car, aimed the gun at his front tire, and pulled the trigger, before re-aiming and firing a second time.

  Whirling around, I jumped in my car, where a silent Jade sat bawling, her entire body trembling. Handing her the matte black handgun, I locked the doors and slammed the key into the ignition. The man stumbled out of the woods just as I started the engine and shifted the sedan into drive.

  Our eyes met through the tinted windshield, and for the first time, I wondered why I hadn't killed him. To protect Jade, there wasn't a line I wouldn't cross, murder included. But there had been something about him, something that told me not to.

  I just prayed it wasn't a mistake.

  "Drive!"

&nbs
p; Heart in my throat, I did just as Jade demanded and stomped on the gas. Tires squealing, I peeled away from the side of the desolate road where I'd parked, missing the pendejo detective who'd stumbled onto the steaming asphalt by mere inches.

  As we drove away, I glanced in my rear-view mirror, taking one more look at el policia, and the pearl-white Tahoe I'd just vandalized. Little did I know, I'd be seeing both again.

  And soon.

  Carmen

  The Following Morning

  The sun rose before I could blink.

  The warmth of its rays heated my dress-covered back as I stood outside High Tide, tossing bag after bag of thrift-store clothing onto the backseat of my Kia, reminding me of the day I'd woken up in the hospital with Jade curled into my side, my body scarred from the trauma I'd endured.

  And though seven years' worth of healing, both physical and emotional, had passed between then and now, two feelings remained.

  Paralyzing fear and endless anxiety.

  Both had kept me awake all night as I'd replayed the events of the previous day in my head and packed the small but beautiful life we'd built for ourselves into a dozen clear garbage bags I'd stolen from my stocked housekeeping cart.

  With danger looming, we had to move fast.

  I didn't know if the crooked detective who'd found us at the swamp had any inclination where we lived, but if he didn't, he soon would.

  Even if I'd been smart enough to register my car and license plate using a throwaway address, the school ID clipped to Jade's scrub top would've handed the cabrón the keys to finding out everything he sought to learn.

  All he needed to do was get her student records from North Charleston. With them, he'd have our actual address, along with my place of employment, financial information, and phone number.

  If he finds us here—

  "Mama C!"

  Heart lurching at the sound of Jade’s panicked voice, I slammed the car’s backdoor shut and grabbed the gun I'd ripped from the detective's side off the roof where it rested before bolting for the stairs.

  After taking them two at a time, I then raced down the outdoor hallway, coming to a sliding stop at our propped open room door.

  Moving inside, I kicked away the wedge holding it open and pushed it shut before latching the deadbolt and securing the chain-lock.

  "What is it?" I asked her, chest rising and falling with the force of my ragged breaths as I dropped the gun onto the dresser beside me.

  Face lined with worry and clearly frazzled, she shoved my cheap cell into my hand. "It's Mercy," she said, referring to my kind-hearted but feisty manager. "She found your resignation letter on her desk a few minutes ago and wants to know what the heck is going on."

  I blew out a breath.

  I loved Mercy to death, but I had neither the mental capacity nor patience to bob and weave my way through the inquisition she would put me through. I had enough to deal with already.

  You know, like not being asesinada.

  Fingers curling around the phone, I lifted it to my ear. "Hola, boss lady."

  "Camilla," she snapped, wasting no time, like always. "What on earth is happening? I saw you packing up your car a few minutes ago, and now I find out you're quitting? Honey, I don't understand. You've been with us for so long."

  The hurt lining her voice brought tears to my eyes. But refusing to let them fall, I blinked, clearing them the best I could. "Are you not happy working for me anymore?"

  "I am," I replied, guilt for abandoning her and the rest of my co-workers without much more than a moment's notice setting in. "You've been so good to me." Unwilling to speak a mentira, I told the truth. "But Evelyn and I have to leave. I don't want to, not when this place has become our home and the staff our friends, but we don't—"

  I sealed my lips together, stopping the words I was about to say. Throat threatening to swell shut, I swallowed.

  All of this could've been avoided if only we'd left hours earlier like I'd wanted to. But Jade had needed sleep after battling her way through multiple panic attacks and then crying until she'd repeatedly vomited.

  I'd required time to think as well.

  I just hoped the plan I'd concocted worked.

  "Thank you, Mercy, for all that you've done for Evelyn and me." Nearly choking on sadness, I paused. "But we have to go."

  Or else it would equal our ends.

  "No," she replied, voice shaking. "I'm not letting you leave like this." A door slammed closed, and keys jingled in the background. "I'm heading up there now. If you're quitting and moving out, then I need to say goodbye properly."

  Before I could argue, the line went dead.

  "Mierda!" I cursed, chucking my phone onto the bed closest to me as I paced. "She's coming up to say adiós, but we don't have time—"

  Boom, boom, boom!

  Jade looked from the door Mercy had already reached to me. "I know we have to go," she said, eyes growing wet. "But what about school? After next semester, I'll have my associate's and be eligible to take the RN licensing exam. But if I don't finish—"

  "You will finish," I interrupted, not letting her mind go there, to a place where only darkness existed, and demons danced in the shadows. "One way or another."

  It was the truth.

  El Diablo had ruined our lives in ways that couldn't be repaired, but I would walk to my death before I let him, or some scumbag detective, rip nursing school from her.

  Like Melendez had ripped it from me.

  "Yeah, but—"

  Boom, boom, boom!

  I held up a lone finger. "One momento," I said, gesturing for her to hold on. "Just give me one momento."

  Head pounding, I moved to the door and disengaged the deadbolt, followed by the chain-lock, before yanking open the heavy metal barrier, expecting to see Mercy standing on the other side, her wrinkled lips pursed in frustration.

  Only, that's not who I found.

  "No!" I screamed, my wide-eyed, terror-filled gaze crashing into a hardened steel-grey one as the realization of what an idiota I was slammed into me.

  I hadn't even checked the peephole!

  Shaking hand still clutching the door handle, I slammed it shut on instinct just as el hombre said something, his words indecipherable, and reengaged the deadbolt, locking El Diablo's detective puppet outside.

  It was only a temporary fix. The demon would find a way inside within seconds. I had to do something. Fast.

  Spinning around, I lunged forward and snatched the gun—his gun—off the dresser. Gripping it, I peered around the room, praying for an invisible exit to appear.

  When one didn't manifest out of thin air, I spun to face the door once more. Pistol aimed at the only thing keeping us safe from him, I rested my finger on the trigger.

  We are getting out of here.

  Even if I have to shoot him.

  Tamping down the fear simmering in my veins, I latched onto the maternal instinct rising in my chest, demanding that I protect Little One, no matter the costs.

  "Grab your backpack," I whispered to a panic-stricken Jade as I lifted my keys from the dresser with my free hand. "Then I want you to go to the door, stand to the side, and prepare to open it."

  "Carmen, I can't—"

  "You can," I interrupted. "And you will."

  One bullet.

  That's all it would take.

  Doing as I said, Jade slid her heavy messenger bag over her shoulder and moved to the door. Grasping the handle like I'd done moments before, she stepped to the side and met my wild, infuriated stare.

  "What now?"

  "Now," I replied quietly. "We leave."

  "Carmen." The detective's deep, accented voice floated through the door. "I know you're scared, sweetheart, and rightfully so. But like I said yesterday, I'm not here to hurt you or take either of you back to Toluca. I'm only here because of Ashley."

  Back teeth gritted, my finger twitched on the trigger. "Do not say her name!" I screamed, repeating the same demand I'd spoken to him th
e afternoon before as the waning grip I had on my fraying sanity slipped. "You know nothing about Chiquita!"

  "I know more than you think."

  I took a small step forward. “Si? And how is that? Were you one of her clients? Because if so, pendejo, then I suggest you get right with whatever deity you believe in because you're about to meet him."

  If I could have killed every man who'd hurt Ashley, I would've done so without a second thought, hesitation, or remorse. For the things they'd done to her, they all deserved to die.

  "No," he snapped, tone almost irate. "I've never hurt my principessa. Never will either. I'd shoot myself first." He paused. "That's if my crazy ass wife didn't kill me beforehand. Which trust me, she would."

  My brows wrinkled in confusion.

  Why was he speaking of Ashley like he knew her? She'd been gone over seven years. If he wasn't a client, then who the hell was he?

  "Mama C." My focus flicked to Jade. "I don't understand."

  That made two of us.

  Stare never leaving hers, I cleared my throat. "What's your name, cabrón?"

  "Anthony." He enunciated each syllable clearly. "Anthony Moretti."

  My brain worked without ceasing to place his name, but as hard as I tried to remember who he was, I failed. "Have you ever heard of him?" I mouthed to Jade, who shook her head.

  I blew out a frustrated breath. "If you don't want me to shoot you on sight, then I suggest you tell me how you knew my chica, Detective Moretti."

  Silence reigned, heaviness filling the air until it was shattered moments later with only three words, all of which added to my confusion, along with my increasing desire to shoot the cabrón spewing mentiras.

  "I'm her father."

  I jerked back. "Chiquita didn't have—"

  "She has a father." He spoke again as if she were still alive and not gone, not to mention, with more bite. Both pissed me off even further. "And she always will, because I'm sure as fuck not going anywhere."

  Closer to breaking than I was, which was saying something, Jade dropped her gaze to the ground and shook her head.

  "No," she whispered, before snapping her rage-filled expression back up and slapping the door with the palm of her free hand, her mood morphing from sad and frightened to irate and ready for battle. "You need to stop lying because I am done dealing with emotional warfare!"