by Koko Brown
“Fuck, okay.” He answered. “I’ll get right on it. Sounds serious. You alright?”
“Yeah, just want to find this shit out as soon as possible.” I told him.
“Consider it done. I’ll be in touch.”
We hung up the phone.
Nobody was in the studio at this time of day, but they soon would be. We not only offered classes here but would occasionally through a party for the town’s people of Jovellanos. Mama said it was a way for everyone to relax, no matter how bad things grew in the country. When people had music, they had love. I never understood the saying, but I knew music would always put me at ease. Love, well, that never seemed to go my way.
All the women in and out of town wanted a Salazar man, but none of them wanted to put the work in that was necessary to keep one. We were too complex of a creature to just settle for anyone. The woman we chose mattered, it made a difference, and if mama didn’t drill anything into us, it was that. This was the reason why we were mostly single except Hugo, the youngest of the brothers. It helped that we mostly stayed to ourselves. The only people who knew we were assassins were other assassins and people that needed assassins. This was not gossip, and if it was ever breached, people died. Our way of life and this method was about survival only.
As the hours went by, noises began to fil the studio, which meant the clients were arriving. I moved to the offices on the top floor, so I could overlook the main dance hall. You could almost see everyone dancing around, doing their steps, twirling about and having fun. It was often a highlight on a bad day.
“Hola, como esta?” Catalina, my sister, greeted me.
“Hey sis,” I responded. “Speak English. That is the only way to rid of your accent.”
I always told her this.
“Why?” she huffed. “I’m not an assassin, and I’m never leaving Cuba. I need my accent.”
She could be such a pest sometimes. I shook my head because she was making me put on my big brother hat.
“You never know what you’re going to have to do to survive. You need to be prepared for anything. An unprepared mind…” She cut me off to finish.
“…results in scattered brains.” She rolled her eyes.
She went to walk past me, and I grabbed her wrist.
“Seriously Cat. Things are changing. You’re getting older, and this cushioned life won’t be here forever. Learn what you can now.” I cautioned.
In her sisterly way, she leaned up and kissed my forehead.
“Yes, Diego. I understand.” She walked to the back office. “Mama’ll be here around seven. She’s meeting with Uncle Vance.”
That was never good. The man was a mercenary, who had his own code, which including killing any and everybody. We rarely consulted with him, but if mama was talking to him, it was about something she didn’t want us to know about.
“Aye.” I shook my head.
“Ian, Seb, and Hugo?” I was asking where our brothers were.
“Yeah, Ian is on a job. Sebastian was with a potential client, and Hugo is with that thing he calls a girlfriend.” Cat answered.
There was no good blood between those two, and Cat was bratty enough to let it show. This also caused a rift between her and Hugo, who used to be quite close since they were the youngest. Mama wasn’t fond of the woman but told me that if things went south, she’d get a bullet to the head. She told me because she was ordering me to do it. She was not sure what Hugo had divulged to her, but he sure seemed smitten by the woman.
The place started to fill up as time went on. Mama was close-lipped about Uncle Vance, so I knew I’d need to be cautious about how to bring that topic up. The various dancers began to show up for the group sessions that lasted for an hour, and the individual sessions started after that. I was not scheduled for anyone that night, which was good because I had been waiting to hear back from Curtis about the woman, Destini.
He ended up calling around ten o’clock in the evening. I had already given her dinner that I ordered from Senora Vargas across the way. She cooked platters and sold them from her home. After her husband died, mama told her it was time to put her years of cooking to service, and she took her advice. The woman is better off than she was with two incomes by cooking alone. That was one thing no one could take away from mama, her business sense.
“Diego, good news and bad.” Curtis started off. “Looks like your girl is actually from New York. Long story short, she ain’t got nobody but apparently is a hustler. She’s sick too. I found the hospital that she was staying at, but the only nurse that was supposed to know her wasn’t in. Took a trip to Atlantic City, or AC as they call it, and your girls a thief. Owes some guy a lot of money, and he seemed very interested in her whereabouts. He’d like to get his money back because she hustled him. He said that was her game. I’ll double check on that nurse again when she’s back on duty. They weren’t trying to give me a name.”
That was interesting and made total sense with all the money she had in her bag. Well, if she was a thief, she’d need to deal with the one who she stole from. That was a code that I lived by; although there was no honor among thieves, there were among assassins.
“Okay, let’s set that meet up but let me know when you get that information from the nurse.” I told him.
“Will do.” He replied and hung up.
The lessons were coming to an end, and I still went downstairs to let the woman know of her status.
“Looks like some of your story is checking out. Which is a bit unfortunate for you because you’ll have to return the money you stole and deal with those consequences.” I told her after opening the door to find her in the corner with two empty plates.
Her eyebrows pushed together as she shook her head, “I’m not sure what you’re talking about, but I haven’t stolen any money.”
“Yeah, he said that was your act. Mida, you loco? You’re actually sick and running game like that?” I shook my head.
Her eyes grew to the size of saucers, as she rushed, “I’m many things, but a thief is not one. I earn what I get, and I’ve defended myself. It’s not my fault if people underestimate my skills at a Poker table. Take me anywhere, I’ll prove it to you. I win but I do not steal from anyone. Ever.”
She said that and turned her back towards me. I almost believed her, but then I remembered her dropping to her knees before me and all of thirty second later, trying to dislocate the crown jewels.
“Mida, you said out your own mouth that the first chance you’d get, you’d slit my throat. You can keep those crocodile tears.” I replied and locked the door behind me.
Tossing and turning all night did not help the migraine that was looming on the right side of my head. It started to pulse, and I knew that I needed to take care of it before it put me out of commission. As strong as I was, a migraine would knock me on my ass. It also did not help that Destini’s words were running through my head the entire night. Her saying, she wasn’t a thief. She admitted to other things but wouldn’t claim that.
Maybe, she had a code too.
THREE
DESTINI
I know it should matter what happened to me anymore because I was a dead woman walking. Whether it was in the hands of the sleazy guy in Atlantic City or the jerk who captured me after killing my only chance of survival.
One thing was for certain, he was right. If or when I got the chance, I would slit his fucking throat. The man signed my death sentence. He would die if I could have my way. No doubt about it.
I stayed in that room for all of three days, where he fed me, watched me go through the process of getting dialysis, and that was it. The attached bare minimum bathroom did not even have a sink, just a simple toilet and hand sanitizer. He’d collect my plates and water bottles and replaced them like clockwork. Three times a day for three days.
By the fourth day, he came down which I assumed to be around six in the morning to inform me that I’d be leaving. He threw me a change of clothes with baby wipes and some toile
tries.
“Get cleaned up. We’re leaving in fifteen minutes.” My captor closed the door and locked it behind him.
I quickly used almost every towel there was and put on the clothes that seemed to fit me perfectly. Over the last three days, I’d eaten pretty well despite my imprisonment. The outfit was stylish and made my small figure look semi-curvy. My hair was a hot fucking mess, but I was able to put it in a ponytail since there was a rubber band holding the toiletries together.
Fifteen minutes later, the man came back, opened the door wide with his right hand, and a gun in his left.
“Let’s go,” he commanded.
I went out and he held up the zip tie to remind me that I’d be confined. Raising my wrists towards him, he put his gun in the back of his jeans and secured my arms.
“Go,” he said.
We marched to the car, and he drove me two hours away while we crossed over one border. The man didn’t say anything to me during the trip, and I also didn’t have shit to say. Once we reached the outskirts of the city, we pulled up and saw a black, handsome man leaning on an older model of a blue luxury car. It looked like it was something out of the Wild West.
“Mi hemano,” the black man greeted my captor.
“Mi hermano,” he repeated as they embraced. “Gracias.”
He nodded in response.
They spoke in hushed tones for a bit until another car pulled up with both guys from the casino and another guy that I didn’t recognize. The one that I cut walked slower and seemed stiff, while the other two moved at a regular, guarded pace.
“Thank you for coming to Cuba. I know that the missing money was enough for the trip.” the black man shook the boss’ hand with the long nose.
“I needed a vacation anyway. I’m headed over to Varadero next.” He put on an oily smile that made my skin crawl.
His eyes moved over to me, but my captor took a step to block his line of sight.
“Diego and you are?” The one that locked me up for three days nodded at the man.
Ah, his name was Diego.
“Spooner,” he answered and even I could tell it was a lie. “You were the one that caught her? Was she trying to steal from you too?”
“No, she interrupted some business of mine, but I thought whoever she had stolen the money from would want it back.” He nodded. “How much money did she take?”
The question caught the man off guard because he looked to the one I stabbed for confirmation.
“What was it, fifteen thousand?” He asked him.
The injured henchman quickly nodded. “Believe so, boss.”
Diego nodded his head.
“I see.” Then Diego asked, “Does she work for you?”
“Fuck no. I don’t know her, but she’s about to work for me, if you know what I mean.” The boss started laughing again. “Did you get your fill?”
Diego’s head moved up and down, and he and the black man shared a look. I thought they weren’t going to go through with it until the black man started walking towards me.
“No, please.” I started to beg.
All I had to do was get in contact with Claire, so she could find me another donor. She had access to all the records around the world. Just like she found Malvo, she could find someone else.
“No, please. I won’t say anything.” I pleaded with the stranger.
He raised an eyebrow and shook his head. His movement could be interpreted in many ways, but I knew what he meant. It was out of his hands. I was pleading with the wrong one. It was Diego, who I should have convinced.
The stranger had a strong grip on my arm as he forcefully guided me towards the degenerates from the casino. On the way, we passed Diego, who looked at me in a way that seemed to go beyond his normal regard for my presence. Now, he seemed to be seeing me, but it didn’t matter anymore. The henchman nabbed me from the black man with a hard jerk and whispered loud enough, “You’re going to wish you were dead when I’m done with you, you little bitch.”
The one I stabbed turned to take me to their car while the other two stayed outside.
“I’m going to fuck every little hole in your body, then cut you to pieces myself.” He hissed with dilated eyes.
The pain killers must have made him an even worst monster than I already sensed he was. He shoved me against the car hard and held me by my throat. I guess as a reminder that he could kill me at any moment.
“Fuck you,” I sneered.
The man didn’t know that I had nothing to lose.
“Oh, I will. You just watch. We all will.” His mouth spread in a nasty smirk.
When I turned around to view the exchange of my bags between Diego and the guy Spooner, it looked like everything was going to plan. Until Spooner turned to come back to the car and Diego pulled his gun, screwed on his silencer like a pro, and shot him in the head and then the heart. The black man had his gun ready and shot the other guy in the head and the heart too.
I think a scream escaped my mouth, but I wasn’t sure because the henchman grabbed me and pulled me so hard that I was in front and against his body as if those men wouldn’t shoot me as well.
“I’ll fucking kill her,” the frantic man stuttered. “I’ll…”
Diego was already in our face with the gun pointed to the man’s head. It was actually touching his head by the time he shut up. He had done a damn sprint to get there. Then with his eyes wide open, my previous captor, Diego, pulled the trigger and shot him in the head.
If I hadn’t screamed the first time, I was definitely screaming at that point. The henchman’s body had grabbed onto mine, and when he fell, he was pulling me down with him. I grabbed for Diego, who pushed the guy off of me and then shot him in the heart once.
Shaking like a leaf was an understatement because while I lived a crazy life, I’d never seen so much killing like that. I also was never a part of anything that even resembled a bloody massacre.
“Destini,” Diego broke my screaming and hyperventilating fit. “You get one chance or you die with them.”
I realized that I was clinging on to him, and the black man’s gun was aimed at my head. Quickly, I let go of him and took a step back.
“Just one.” He repeated. “Where are you from and why are you here?”
My head shook as I said, “I told you already. I need a new kidney, and I got some months to live. Malvo Dominguez was the only blood match and type AB negative for me, and you killed him. I’m from New York and live in the Bronx. I’ve lost every fucking thing I have ever had. I mean you no harm, I’m just trying to get a kidney. You can keep the money, I’ll get some more. I just need to go.”
At that moment, the black man’s phone rang and when he saw the caller id, he showed it to Diego. He nodded his head, and the stranger took the call.
“Hola,” He greeted and began to speak in Spanish. “Si…si…okay. Señora…Bueno…adiós.”
“Que?” Diego called.
“Everything checks out. Six months or less and no donors.” the black man’s eyes turned soft when he looked at me again.
“Did you steal that money from him?” Diego asked me again.
“Told you, I don’t steal. I stabbed him in the stomach because they were trying to steal the money I won fair and square at the Poker table. Check the cameras.” I shrugged. “I’m no thief.”
Diego assessed me for a bit, then he put his gun away.
“Get your shit and let’s go or you can stay out here and figure shit out by yourself,” he said all of that as he turned to walk back towards his truck.
My head turned towards the black man who merely smiled at me and said, “You better go. Believe me, it’ll be better with him.”
I tried to quickly process what to do in this instance, but it wasn’t really a thought. I grabbed my bag from the dead boss’ hands and quickly followed Diego to his truck. He hopped in, and I got in the passenger’s seat and put on my seatbelt. A part of me wanted to ask him what was I to do now, but he seemed too fa
r away to have that discussion.
While he was deep in thought, I felt like Alice in wonderland.
Where else would the rabbit hole take me?
FOUR
DIEGO
Something was not right, and I always listened to my gut. Hence, the reason I just killed those men without a trace of evidence that they were lying scum. The look on Destini’s face said volumes, but he also didn't know how much money she stole. The other one was talking about the many ways he would rape her. None of this sounded like the scenario I had in my mind about her stealing something. Shit, even if she did, she was fucking terminally ill. Those fuckers either didn't know that or didn't give a shit.
The real question was why I gave one.
We made it back to Jovellanos, where I dropped off Destini with Curtis, so I could chat with mama. I knew how she felt about outsiders, so I needed to tell her before she found out.
“Mama,” I yelled as I walked into her house.
“Out back.” I heard her gravelly voice.
I moved through the small home that was made just for her. Everything on the first floor had easy access and a nice porch so she could watch the sun rise and set.
“Afternoon,” I greeted her with a kiss on those chubby cheeks.
“Buenos Tardes,” she said with a smile.
“I have an important matter to discuss with you.” I sat down across from her on the porch with a small table filled with fresh whole fruit and a glass of ice water.
She shook her head, “Always the serious son. What's the matter?”
“The hit for Malvo Dominguez didn't quite go as planned.” I paused. “There was someone else there. A woman who was screaming about me killing her after I put Malvo down. I'm not sure why, but I put her away and decided to verify her story. Curtis looked into it and saw that what she said was right. Unfortunately, we were under the impression that she was a thief because the last place she was seen was at a casino on the East Coast in the States. I went to deliver her to her supposed prey and it was almost done, but they didn't know how much money was stolen, was talking about raping her, and none of it seemed right. We then received the call that we were waiting on to see about her health. She has about six months to live if she doesn’t get the organ that she needs. Malvo had her blood type and kidney, but I killed him first before she could get what she needed. However, I have her now, and I know what you think about outsiders. But I'm telling you… She's mine.”