EL DIABLO II

by M. Robinson

  I shifted into fourth, speeding through the night. Going over seventy-five miles per hour, pushing eighty, ninety, one hundred. Fucking furious I allowed this to happen. I couldn’t get to my final destination fast enough, flying by vehicle after vehicle across the valley. My foot heavy on the gas until everything I sped by was simply one big blur.

  Switching lanes.

  Dodging cars.

  Nothing could stop me.

  I was a fucking Martinez, and I’d prove it once and for all. It was no longer about gaining back my father’s trust or forgiveness. All that mattered, all I wanted, needed, fucking couldn’t go on without was…

  Vengeance.

  It was time to make my presence known. No one was going to stop me, not even him. Not even her. Minute-after-minute of the video replayed in my brain, as I desperately tried to focus on the task at hand. It was useless. All I could see was my sister tied to a goddamn chair with her eyes covered and her mouth gagged.

  Bloodied.

  Bruised.

  Fucking broken.

  “One day you’ll learn that acting on impulsions will only get you killed.”

  His words from only a few days ago resonated through my memories. I was plagued by my thoughts that had nothing to do with what I was getting myself into. The familiarity of the basement where she was being held, screamed at me like the high pitch sound from deep within Adriana’s core. In the back of my mind, I was aware I could be way off, but it wasn’t a chance I was willing to take. Not when it came to my sister’s life.

  I turned my attention back to the road, tree-after-tree belted by, making it hard to see my path. It blurred into the background and faded into the distance. I disregarded my looming thoughts, concentrating on the adrenaline coursing through my veins, and becoming one with my blood. The last thing I wanted was for my anxiousness to read as fear or worse, prove I wasn’t ready for this.

  When in reality, this was all I ever wanted.

  Turning a sharp left onto a back street, I caused my car to fishtail onto the dirt road. My tires kicked up gravel, as I took another curve. Lowering the music, I drove into a small town. The only sounds I could hear were my tires tracking through the unsteady route. It got darker the longer I drove, stirring mixed emotions in my gut.

  Would Ari be there or the men who kidnapped her?

  My thoughts relentlessly spun for what felt like the hundredth time while the neighborhoods began to get more rural and run down. The eerie quietness wasn’t helping my disposition. Finally, all the trees suddenly cleared, and it was then I realized how off the grid I truly was.

  Out in the middle of fucking nowhere.

  As soon as I hit the brakes a few houses down from the one I recognized, I sat there with my heart in my throat. My head once again running wild with thoughts of what could be happening behind that front door. The blinds were closed and just like that the outside world was shut out.

  Seconds.

  Minutes.

  Hours could have gone by.

  I lost track of time sitting there contemplating my next move. Until my body voluntarily shifted as though it was being pulled by a thread, crossing the imaginary line of…

  Right or wrong.

  Black or white.

  Heaven or Hell.

  Before I knew which way was up or down, I was standing at front of the door. Without a moment’s notice, I cautiously turned the knob and slowly opened it with the gun now tightly in my firm grasp. Inch-by-inch, I welcomed my future and said goodbye to my past. I had no clue what I was about to walk into, no hesitation on my part of what I was there to fucking do.

  Except, someone beat me to it.

  Not just anyone.

  El Diablo.

  The first thing I noticed was the trail of blood from the front entrance to the basement door located in the far corner of the room. It was closed, and I didn’t have to guess what or who was down there. I felt my father’s handiwork. This had his name written all over it.

  This was my moment of truth.

  My time to fucking shine and show what I was made of.

  Bow down to the father but obey the son.

  Freewill was a helluva of a decision, choosing between good versus evil. I eagerly walked through the gates of purgatory mentally preparing myself for God knows what.

  Where there was smoke, there was fire.

  The soles of my boots burned as soon as they crossed the threshold of my mortality. I moved like a man possessed by a demon. Physically feeling the weight of the shackles wrapping around my ankles with each step I took further down the cellar. Contended, and worthy of the chains I’d eternally bear in the name of the father and of the son.

  One foot in front of the other.

  Four steps.

  Three steps.

  Two steps.

  One.

  I stopped right at the bottom of those stairs where there were no more bullshit lies for him to spew, no more orders for me to follow, no more fantasy for me to live.

  This was my demise and I fucking welcomed it with open arms.

  Chapter 12

  —Cruz—

  “I don’t know! I swear I don’t fucking know!” a man whose ankles were tied to the rafters with cable cords, hanging upside down shouted loud enough to break glass.

  His hands were bound behind his back, zip ties securing them in place. All the blood from his body drained to his face while more oozed off the deep incisions my father inflicted with the rusty blade in his hand. The guy looked like he’d been beaten within an inch of his life and when that didn’t work, he cut open his skin.

  “Wrong answer, Sergey,” Papá declared.

  “Nooooooo! Noooooo!”

  Gripping onto the back of his hair, he viciously sliced from the middle of his chest to the bottom of his stomach.

  “If I cut you diagonally, your intestines will fall out. Your choice, not mine.”

  “Please… please… I swear I don’t know where she is!”

  “Is that right?” he drawled out. “Lying to me only makes me fucking angry and trust me, Sergey, you haven’t seen me angry yet.”

  “I’m telling you the truth!”

  “As am I. Now we could do this the easy way and you can tell me where my daughter is, or we could do it the hard way and I gut you open like the fucking animal you are for taking my daughter.”

  “I didn’t take her! It wasn’t me!”

  “Sergey,” Papá sang out in a devious tone. “It took me five days to find the man on the video surveillance. She was following you out of the estate that night. It was you, Sergey. Only you. Now how long do you think it will take me to find your mother, your brother, and your baby sister? Huh? She’s in middle school, right? Patrons Academy. Motherfucker, I’ll slit all their throats while you watch and beg me to stop. I won’t. Not for one fucking second. So don’t make me ask you again. Where is my daughter?”

  “Please…please…I swear to God I don’t know where she is!”

  Cut.

  He sliced off his finger, sending his victim into a reeling fit of agony and distress.

  “God isn’t here right now, but El Diablo sure as fuck is. I don’t appreciate being lied to, especially to my fucking face!” He slashed off another finger.

  “Arggggghhhh!” Sergey yelled in pure anguish, clearly struggling not to pass the fuck out.

  “That’s for lying to me again and disrespecting me in front of my men. I suggest you man the fuck up and tell me where my daughter is, because I’m getting impatient and I’m going to move onto your cock next. Stop feeding me your bullshit lies before I decide I no longer want to play nice.”

  “Listen,” Sergey coaxed with a quivering jaw. “I’ll be honest with you. Okay? I knew Adriana from school, they knew I knew her.”

  “Who’s they?”

  “I don’t know. I swear I don’t know. They said they’d kill my ma if I didn’t bring her outside and let them use my home. I wasn’t here. I didn’t come back until they sai
d I could, and by the time I got back, they were gone. I swear to you that’s all I know.”

  “What did they look like?”

  “I only talked to them on the phone and they used one of those voice changers. I didn’t hear their real voice. Please… please…just let me go!”

  “Let you go? Where are you going, Sergey?”

  His chest heaved, and his nostrils flared. “To a fucking hospital! Please! Please!”

  Out of the corner of my gaze, I saw a shadow in the window. I smiled wide, my eyes wild and brazen. Thirsty for their blood. Raising my arm, I aimed my gun and pulled the trigger.

  Bang!

  Shooting the piece of shit right in between the eyes, killing him point-blank. In less than an instant, everyone had their guns out, including my father. For the second time in a few short days, he directed his Glock right at my forehead.

  Our eyes locked as he stumbled back as if the bullet shot into his heart. His stunned stare flew toward my target, instantly realizing what I’d done.

  His men sprang into action.

  Guns cocked and loaded.

  Two bodyguards surrounding him, two more ambushing me while three rushed up the stairs in search of other enemies.

  “Crucifixio.” My name fell from his mouth.

  One word.

  Ten letters.

  My name.

  The underworld spun around us.

  Chaos erupted.

  All Hell broke loose but our intense connection never drifted from one another. Time seemed to stand still from the moment his eyes bore into mine, beginning to unravel the emotion I always wanted to see inside of him. He didn’t try to hide it.

  The disappointment.

  The shame.

  The regret.

  Everything I prayed for, he showed to me. Anxiously searching for any remnants of his son with nothing but a reminiscent glare of the boy he raised and the man I’d become. I envisioned my childhood flashing before his eyes.

  Each milestone.

  Each achievement.

  Each pillar in our relationship.

  Each stepping stone.

  Each discovery.

  Each breakthrough.

  Leading us back to this turning point, the here and now where everything rapidly changed between us. His demons emerged, darkening the small space. It all hit him so fucking hard. His worst nightmare just played out in front of him, dragging him under, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel it.

  There wasn’t an inch of my skin that didn’t feel his love, and hatred.

  Unable to take it anymore, he bit, “What the fuck did you do?”

  What did he expect?

  No matter what I did, I couldn’t win. I lost, but the truth was…

  I didn’t care.

  His opinion was null and void.

  “I saved your fucking life.” Before he could say another word, I walked over to Sergey and placed the barrel of my gun under his chin. Proving my point.

  I’d be better than him.

  “Last chance, motherfucker.”

  Cowering away from me, Vinny shut his eyes tight. I rammed the Glock deeper into his flesh.

  “Look me in the eyes when I’m talking to you.”

  He did.

  I never understood until this very moment why my father always wanted us to stare into his eyes. They were the windows to a person’s soul I’d own.

  “On second thought.” I shoved my gun into his mouth, he choked. “Forgive me, father, for I have sinned.” Pulling the trigger, I blew his goddamn brains out,.

  I was done playing games. I got what I came for.

  His blood on my hands.

  Chapter 13

  —Sienna—

  Two months later

  “Uncle Gino! I want to speak to my father!”

  “Sienna, how many times do I have to tell you he’s not here?”

  “As many as it takes for him to come home!” I knew I was being irrational, but I couldn’t put up with this bullshit anymore. “I haven’t seen my horse in almost two months! I’m not allowed to leave the house! I’m a prisoner in my own home all because some girl, I don’t even know, gets taken on our property? This has nothing to do with me and everything to do with Martinez’s family. Now, why am I getting dragged into something that didn’t even happen to ours?”

  “We don’t know that, Sienna. Adriana hasn’t been found yet.”

  “Again, why is this my problem?” I knew I sounded like a bitch, but I was tired of having my life dictated by someone else’s problems.

  “It happened on our turf.”

  “Yeah! To Martinez! Not to us! I need to see Massimo, Uncle Gino. I’ve never gone this long without riding him.”

  “Your father is making sure someone is tending to your black stallion.”

  Massimo was my prize possession. All I had that was completely mine. Papà gave him to me when I was eight-years-old, he was only a colt back then. I’d been riding horses since I could walk, and I finally received something that no one could take away from me.

  “It’s not the same, Uncle Gino, and you know it. Massimo doesn’t like anyone but me. He goes crazy if someone he doesn’t know tries to feed him. How do you think he’s going to react to someone else riding him? If something happens to my horse, I’ll never forgive Papà! Massimo is all I have.”

  “Enough with the dramatics, Sienna.”

  “Dramatics?” I asked, growing more furious and exasperated.

  “You know that’s not true. You have your father, your uncles, your family.”

  “My family has the mafia. I don’t come first, mafia does.”

  “It’s all the same.”

  “Not to me!”

  Why didn’t anyone ever understand my side of things?

  It was as if I was talking to a wall. At least with Uncle Gino, I could express my frustrations. He wasn’t my real uncle, however he was El Capo’s right-hand man and that was thicker than blood. If he wasn’t near my father, then he was by my side. I spent more time with him than I did Papà. He was there when I was born and carried the title of my godfather.

  In Italian culture family is everything. My father’s love and devotion were never up for debate. I was his whole world but so was La Famiglia. We went hand-in-hand. It didn’t matter what I said or how I felt about any situation. At the end of the day, whatever decisions my father thought were in my best interest, ruled over any words or emotions that poured out of my heart and soul.

  I was trapped and there was nothing I could do about it. The only peace of mind I had was my eighteenth birthday which was still a month away. I’d be an adult by the law. I could make my own life choices with or without El Capo’s consent. I dreamed about that day, being free of this life—of purgatory where fulfillment for a woman came in the form of who you were married to and birthing a son to carry on the name and legacy of these made men.

  The code of honor.

  Fuck. That. Shit.

  “Sienna, you want to play cards? Let’s play Blackjack, you’re getting really good.”

  I shrugged, I was.

  Numbers were my thing, I liked counting cards.

  “All you’re doing is trying to appease me.”

  “Is it working?”

  “No.” Maybe.

  “Can I just call my girlfriend? I haven’t talked to Aurora since my graduation party. Please…”

  “Sienna, you’re a lady. Don’t beg.”

  “Uncle Gino… Papà disconnected the landline, and my cellphone. The only phone that works is the one in his office. I need to know what happened between her and Diego. Oh my God, did they break up? Are they together? These are things a best friend needs to know. They were having problems. She probably thinks I’m dead.”

  “Gesù Cristo, Sienna Contessa Luciano, mi stai dando i capelli grigi,” he swore, “Jesus Christ, you’re giving me gray hair.”

  “All your hair is gray already, I can’t give you more.”

  He sighed, setti
ng his cellphone on the counter. “I’m going to the kitchen. You hungry?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I’ll be back in twenty minutes.”

  I smiled, nodding.

  This was our dynamic. Within reason, Uncle Gino always gave in to my requests. My father trusted his judgment, although it didn’t mean he turned a blind eye to what Uncle Gino would approve. He checked the phone records, he knew every single person in my life. They had to go through him to be my friend. If he said no, I’d never see that person again.

  After he closed the door behind him, I grabbed his phone and dialed Aurora’s number.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey!”

  “Sienna? Holy shit I thought you were dead!”

  “On my father’s watch? Never.”

  “Where have you been?”

  “On house arrest.”

  “What did you do? Did your dad find out about—”

  “Of course not! I’d really be dead if he did.”

  “That’s why I thought you were! Don’t ever do that to me again. I’ve been lighting a candle for you at Santa Maria every day, Sienna. I called you, but your phone says it’s been disconnected.”

  “I know. I’m sorry.”

  “So what happened? What’s going on?”

  “I can’t talk about it.”

  “We talk about everything.”

  “I know, but I can’t talk about this.”

  “Why?”

  “For your own good.”

  “You sound like your father.”

  “The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”

  “Sienna, are you okay?”

  “As okay as I can be.”

  “When are you allowed out again?”

  “I don’t know. Soon I hope.”

  “What about Massimo?”

  “That’s why I’m calling. Can you go check on him for me?”

  “Your horse hates me.”

  “He hates everyone, it’s nothing personal. Please, just go make sure he’s okay.”

  “All right, yeah. I can do that. How do I get in touch with you?”

  “I’ll call you next week.”

  “Whose number is this?”

  “Uncle Gino’s.”