Gilded Agony

by K. A. Merikan

  He yelped and let go with one hand for half a second when a bullet hit something right next to him, rocks and splinters showering his arm. The pain would lessen if he only could find a leverage for his feet, but he couldn’t see. Every piece of him—every muscle, bone, and tendon throbbed with pain, shoes sliding down mud whenever he tried to find ground.

  He was on borrowed time already.

  The next round of bullets made him cringe, but only for a moment. He knew the sound of the gun echoing above his head. It was Domenico’s Beretta, and unlike Diego’s charge earlier, this time the shots sounded more precise, guided by intent rather than passion.

  After two attempts at pulling himself up, Mark ended up stilling, along with his heart, when one of the vines slipped lower under his weight. There was nothing he could do.

  More gunshots erupted in the air along with yelling he couldn’t discern anymore, but a bright light pointed at him, and even with his vision blurring, he was sure it was Domenico not Diego looming above.

  With all the force he could manage thanks to years of pull ups, Mark let go with one hand to reach up in a pleading gesture.

  He could no longer think, his brain a chaos of terror he couldn’t fight anymore. Pain bloomed like flesh-eating plants, nesting in his eye and spreading their roots over his nose, neck, weaving them through all of Mark’s teeth.

  Domenico was shouting something, but the pulsing in Mark’s head had become so loud he could no longer understand words.

  Only the dark depth of the ravine wouldn’t stop calling his name.

  Chapter 14 - Seth

  Miguel barging into their house wasn’t a regular occurrence, so despite Seth being half a bottle of wine into drinking, he instantly got to his feet and looked back at the rifle in Miguel’s hands.

  “W-what’s going on?” Seth asked slowly, not to agitate him, but fortunately the firearm turned from one side of the living room to the other, as if Miguel were searching for something, not aiming it at Seth.

  “Are you alone?” Miguel asked in a snappy tone, his bare arms bulging and making his tattoos move as if they were alive.

  Seth walked by the bookshelf to retrieve one of the guns hidden there. “Yeah. What’s going on? Is everything okay? Where are Dom and Mark?” His fuzzy brain was quickly gaining sharpness as he imagined what could have possibly caused the strong, sedate animal Miguel was to act this way.

  Miguel’s lips pressed into a pale line, and the tense expression on his face had Seth feeling as if the floor were crumbling under his feet. “We’ll meet them soon. Tell Giulia to lock up the nursery and not open to anyone. We need to go now.”

  Seth pulled out his phone to contact their nanny, even though she wasn’t far away, because he wanted to waste no time. They communicated in quick words as he pulled on his sneakers, and then he and Miguel were off.

  The moment he left the house, Seth’s gaze switched to tunnel vision. His heart thumped so loudly he could barely breathe, and his feet felt heavy as if the goddamn shoes were made of lead. The black armored Hummer Domenico hardly ever used was parked so close to the gate one could think Miguel feared a sniper would be waiting for Seth to leave the safety of the fenced-off villa.

  It was only when the door shut behind Seth and he settled in the backseat that he could breathe again.

  Quincy was seated at the front already, and he looked back at Seth with that light smile doctors sometimes adopted when they were about to communicate bad news to their patients.

  Surely, that was how his mother’s doctor watched her when he’d presented her with options for treating her cancer. Seth was about to puke.

  “What is it? Is Toro okay?” he demanded and leaned forward, as if proximity were to allow hearing the news that fraction of a second quicker. Visions of Domenico’s face covered in blood flashed under Seth’s eyelids, interrupted with memories of the bone in Dom’s leg peeking out from under the skin.

  Miguel drove off, quickly reaching speed that was far from optimal on the uneven surface of the lawn. “He was when he spoke with me. But Mark’s been hurt. They are on their way to the hospital.”

  Quincy sighed. “Breathe, Seth. There’s nothing we can do before we get there.”

  “Don’t fucking patronize me!” The only thing stopping Seth from grabbing Quincy and throwing him out of the speeding car was the fact that the man was a doctor and could be of help. “What happened? Was he shot?”

  Quincy glanced at Miguel, as if he vainly hoped for some kind of support, but when nothing came, he shrugged and turned Seth’s way. “Toro didn’t say anything about bullet wounds, but Mark will need an X-Ray, and we’ll go from there.”

  Miguel let out a disgusted groan, as if Quincy had personally insulted him. “Mark might have a cracked skull. No point in making it sound pretty. He’s gonna see it himself anyway.”

  Seth slumped in the seat, his whole body going numb. He didn’t yell at Miguel to drive faster, or for Quincy to provide more information. There was nothing he could do. If Miguel hadn’t come for him, he wouldn’t have even known Mark was injured.

  “How far away are they?” he asked in the end after a prolonged silence full of violent rumbling on the uneven road.

  “No idea. He couldn’t tell me exactly, because he hardly ever leaves El Encanto,” Miguel said, speeding toward the town as fast as the muddy road allowed. The car shook over the uneven surface, but neither of them worried for the wheels, the chassis, or any meaningless crap like that. Nothing mattered in the face of Mark’s injury.

  Traffic all but stopped when the black Hummer drove through the busiest crossing in town, forcing its way through the main arteries of El Encanto without minding the laws of regular people. They reached the only hospital in the area within fifteen minutes.

  Seth had never wanted to speak Spanish more than now. Helpless when they left the car, he was left to depend on Miguel’s translation as Quincy followed some doctor inside, talking fast and to the point.

  “Why weren’t you with them?” Seth asked Miguel, desperate for information.

  The firm shoulders twisted into knots, and he spun Seth’s way so rapidly the staff and patients gravitated farther away from the reception desk like bugs from a drop of repellent.

  “Nobody told me. I was sitting in my room, minding my own business when I got the call.”

  “They left in a hurry. What could have been so urgent?”

  Miguel had to know more. Unlike Seth, he wasn’t a chicken trapped behind the walls of its coop.

  The severe face twitched, and it almost seemed like the small skulls tattooed by Miguel’s eye laughed at Seth. He opened his mouth, holding the rifle close to his muscular chest when the doors to the hospital burst open, causing a new wave of chaos.

  Domenico’s face loomed in front of Seth in slow motion. Scratches marred his cheekbone, and his hair was in disarray, but he seemed all right otherwise, but Mark—

  Blood clung to the sweaty skin of his cheek and neck, staining his shirt and hands. His clothes were dirty, in tatters, and Domenico had to half-drag his hunched figure inside, as if his mind wasn’t all there.

  Seth sleepwalked toward them in the whirlwind of people yelling things he couldn’t understand.

  “Mark? Can you hear me?” Seth grabbed Mark’s ice-cold fingers, but it hardly got him a reaction. The scents of blood and mud Domenico and Mark had brought in were so intense Seth could hardly think.

  Mark’s eye was unfocused, his hand sweaty despite its cool temperature. Still, it twitched against Seth’s as if he could hear him. The other side of Mark’s face was hard to describe, and it brought yet another wave of shock upon Seth. He wasn’t sure what he was looking at in the mess of swollen tissue that ranged from purple to a reddish black, but he saw cuts, and broken skin in the bloody mess.

  Seth met Dom’s eyes. “Jesus Christ… What happened?”

  A nurse helped Mark to the stretcher and said something to Seth abruptly, but it only left him at a loss for wor
ds. She probably meant for him to let go of Mark’s hand. His heart broke into a thousand pieces when he did so and stood next to Domenico, stunned and hurting. If only he could take half of Mark’s pain and ease it for him…

  Domenico took a deep breath and leaned on the wall, his fingers trembling slightly when he reached into the pocket of his jeans to take out a pack of cigarettes. Any other time, Seth would have told him off for doing this in a hospital, but seeing his husband in such a state kept Seth quiet. And since nobody would ever dare to forbid Toro anything so minor, the reception soon filled with the aroma of smoke.

  In the end, Seth pulled a cig out of Dom’s packet as well.

  “Who did this?” he whispered, standing closer. A part of him wanted to follow Mark through the hospital, but with Quincy around, and all the medical attention, Seth would have been in the way.

  Domenico let his head fall back so rapidly he hit it the wall, but his exhale, which released a cloud of white smoke, sounded like relief. “That sonofabitch Diego. He— I should have taken Miguel with us,” he said, rubbing his face.

  Miguel’s features remained tense, but he nodded, as if acknowledging this as a twisted form of apology.

  Seth stared back as the information slowly sank in. “But… he’s Moreno’s man, right? Diego… what?” Even hearing the name made Seth’s stomach cramp. He took a fat drag of smoke for relief.

  Domenico shook his head. “I knew he was a crazy piece of shit, but he was working for Moreno. I would have never thought he’d attack any of us on our territory.”

  “Only it’s not your territory, is it?” Miguel asked in a flat tone. “The jungle, I mean. You didn’t even wear the right shoes,” he said, pointing to Dom’s muddy feet.

  Domenico’s lips twitched, but he didn’t argue and quickly sought Seth’s hand. The insides of his palms were rough, as if some of the skin got scratched off. “I should have seen it coming. That path was too untouched. If a group of people went through there earlier that day, it wouldn’t have been so. He’d been leading us on. Possibly all along.”

  “Why would he do that? Money?” Seth’s head wouldn’t stop pounding, as if his brain were cooking in the oven of his head. Guilt was the burning coal thrown in on top. He’d talked to Diego earlier today. Led him on, flirted for the selfish reason of having somewhere to vent, needing someone’s attention. What if any of what he’d done contributed to Mark’s state and this mess?

  Miguel came closer and pulled on Domenico’s damp shirt, which peeled away from his body like a layer of skin. It soon became clear Miguel wanted to know if Dom wasn’t hurt as well. He let go as soon as it got him a slow nod.

  Domenico went on, “I have no fucking idea. But he took us through dangerous terrain without warning us where we were actually going. He beat Mark with a flashlight and tossed him off a cliff. It’s sheer luck that… our boy grabbed on some vines and that those vines held his weight. I thought this kind of shit only happened in movies.”

  “Fucking hell. Motherfucker.” Seth forced himself to breathe in more smoke, but calming down was not an option. “Does Moreno know he’s dead?”

  Domenico chewed on his cigarette and inhaled smoke so fast the fire burned all the way to the filter as if it were a dry bush in the height of summer. “He ran away. Couldn’t risk chasing him with Mark in danger. So I chose. I don’t know what would have happened if I didn’t have my garotte on me,” he said and spat the cigarette butt to the floor with distaste. Only then did he open his palms to reveal the angry red scratches left behind by the wire.

  Seth leaned over him, and pulled Domenico’s hands to his lips for a kiss. He could hardly believe Diego was still alive, but it made sense that Mark’s safety had to come first. For the first time since he’d become Toro, Domenico was giving him information and allowing him in. It felt like forever since that happened, and now they were one again.

  “Do we have any idea where he could be?”

  Domenico’s jaw tensed. “No fucking idea, but wherever he is, he won’t be staying there much longer. No one puts a finger on my son and gets away with it. I’m going to smoke him out, even if I have to burn down the whole jungle.”

  “That’s a bit excessive. He could have already boarded a boat,” Miguel said, earning himself a cigarette flying his way when Dom tossed it in anger instead of lighting it.

  “Figure of speech, Miguel! Fucking figure of speech.”

  “Have our men been informed to look out for Diego?” Seth asked, but Miguel only gave him a dead-eyed stare.

  Domenico pulled Seth closer, calming down once a new cigarette was lit and in his mouth. “He is to be taken alive. I am so fucking fed up with this shithole. With Moreno. With my life being nothing like I planned.”

  Seth forgot to breathe for a moment, surprised by the outburst. For a long time now, he’d been sure Domenico was more than happy in El Encanto. Happy to be the boss, to be respected, to bring in big money, and make criminal connections.

  Miguel’s brows lowered, and he stepped closer, creating a barrier between Domenico and the reception. “I could take care of Moreno. You know that’s what I’ve wanted all along. Release me from my mother’s word, and I’ll do it.”

  Domenico met Miguel’s gaze. “Not yet, Miguel.”

  It was as if a twig snapped into Miguel’s face. He twisted away from them with a loud snarl, pacing around the reception like an agitated bull.

  “Time could be a factor with Diego. He knows the jungle well. He could be farther away—”

  A nurse walked up to them and spoke to Domenico softly. He nodded and pulled on Seth’s hand. “Miguel, you want to come with us?”

  Miguel shook his head without a word, still upset by Domenico’s decision. They left him behind and followed the nurse upstairs, to a room close to the operating theatre. It was empty, but traces of someone’s perfume and fresh flowers left behind on the table told Seth it had been occupied by someone else not long ago. But he didn’t question their presence here and sat down on the old sofa, still holding Domenico’s hand.

  “What else did she say? Is he doing okay?” Seth couldn’t stay down for long and paced in the empty space at the front of the room.

  Domenico chewed on his lip, watching Seth from behind clouds of cigarette smoke. “They might not be able to save his eye. Quincy knows what to do in case there’s something that could be done for him elsewhere, but it doesn’t look good.”

  Seth punched the wall in helpless anger. “He’s not even twenty-one yet! Why did this happen? Did Diego seem angry when you met tonight?”

  Domenico opened and clenched his hands, staring at the fresh scars, as if he couldn’t believe they were there. “What kind of sicko tries to kill the man they’re sleeping with? That Diego? He’s unhinged. But I don’t accept an insanity defense. I am going to flay him. Dick-first.”

  Seth’s lips parted, and he took shallow breaths as disbelief rooted itself in his brain. Despite the disgust twisting in his gut, it occurred to him that Domenico needed care too. There was a glass cabinet containing medicines and other first aid equipment. It was locked, but he broke the glass by protecting his hand with a folded newspaper and took out what he needed. Scooting in front of Dom, Seth pulled his hand close.

  “Am I hearing this correctly? He was sleeping with Mark?” Seth was really going to be sick tonight. The motherfucker had kept making moves on him while fucking with Mark?

  Domenico snarled but let Seth take care of him. “I know. Who in their right mind would even look at that goon? He’s been disrespectful from the start. I should have just kicked him right back to Moreno instead of dealing with this rotten egg in my own nest.”

  For a moment Seth considered telling Domenico that Diego had been making passes at him, but how would he justify saying it now? Dom hated Diego enough already, so there was no need to agitate him further and invite questioning that could lead them down a dark path, to a well out of which nothing good ever crawled out.

  How would hav
e Domenico reacted if he found out that Seth hadn’t told him of the kiss Diego stole the night they met, because he was afraid what Domenico would do? Not just to Diego, but to him.

  “Mark… He’s so all over the place. Like he doesn’t know what he wants and just grabs anything that comes his way. You couldn’t have known Diego would do such a thing.”

  Domenico squeezed Seth’s hands and pulled him close, resting his chin on Seth’s shoulder. It was only when they were alone that Domenico could let go, stop always being an impenetrable rock that would crush anybody standing in his way.

  They were silent for a couple of moments, and then Domenico rolled his face over Seth’s shoulder with a low sigh.

  “That’s not the life I wanted for him when we took him in. I knew there would be danger, but nothing like this. I never planned to have him working in this kind of business.”

  Seth nuzzled Dom’s dirty cheek with a sigh and started gently cleaning the wounds. “What did you envision?”

  The firm shoulders, that to Seth always meant safety, shrugged. “That he’d go to school somewhere. Meet a boy his age. Fuck around a bit, have teenage crushes. You know, normal things. The kind of life I didn’t have. The kind of life you only had once you left home.”

  Seth put his arm over Dom’s shoulders and pulled him close. He’d tried to soothe the guilt over flirting with Diego by treating Dom like a king at home and forgetting all the bad blood between them, but true closeness was only back now. It lay not in smiles and surface-deep pleasantries, but in the intimacy of shared pain.

  “We knew he would never have a normal life around us. You’ve trained him so that he could be as safe as possible in those circumstances,” Seth whispered and kissed Dom’s streaky hair before pulling out gauze and a bandage to dress Dom’s hands.

  They waited for what felt like hours, and Miguel eventually joined them in the room, but when the door finally opened, all three of them stood.