IMPERFECT MONSTER

by Bene, Jennifer

  Twenty-Three

  Andre

  I wasn’t sure when I’d finally fallen asleep with my face buried in Nicky’s pillow, but the alarm on my phone woke me up like a gunshot. I sat up straight, unconsciously searching the bed with one hand before I remembered why it was empty.

  Nicky is with Paulo.

  Cursing, I felt the rage and the fear again, and shoved myself out of bed to get dressed and load my guns and extra clips. If I went downstairs early, there was a chance I could check on Nicky, and get her secure in my room before we left. I could let her know who I really was, what was happening today. Hell, I could leave her my phone so she could call Nathan and have them come get her out.

  I don’t think I’d ever been dressed so fast in my life, and I was still tucking one of the guns into the holster when I starting unlocking my door. Out in the hall my eyes went to Paulo’s door at the far end, and I contemplated knocking — but that would cross a line. The best chance I had of getting her back, getting her safe, was to pretend I didn’t give a fuck what he’d done to her.

  Anna Maria was still cooking when I walked into the empty kitchen, and she turned to apologize. “Lo siento, Señor Andre. Breakfast is almost ready.”

  “Gracias,” I growled out, taking a seat where I would be able to watch the doorway. She served the food on the table about ten minutes later, and I made a plate just as Marco walked in. His eyes moved to the place on the wall where Nicky should have been, and then he gave me a confused look. Just as he opened his mouth to ask, I shook my head, and he sat down in silence.

  Next were Nicolás and Samuel, laughing, with two black backpacks that they sat against the wall. “Where’s your girl this morning, cuadro?” Sam asked, and I forced myself to sound okay with all of it, as cold and empty as I should be.

  “She spent the night with jefe.” I summoned a cold smile. “I think he wanted a little stress relief before the meeting today.”

  They both laughed, while Marco just stared at me. Nicolás snagged a seat first, immediately dumping food onto his plate. “Well, I can understand that. José took us out to find some girls yesterday to take the edge off. Although nothing beats a girl that has to do whatever you want.”

  “Got that right,” Sam laughed, nudging his brother with his elbow as he dove into his own food.

  “Right,” I agreed, but my eyes wouldn’t leave the doorway. José was next, then Luis who only nodded at me before he took a seat at the other end of the table. Finally, Diego joined at about 8:30, and my panic was through the roof.

  Where the fuck was Paulo? What had he done to Nicky?

  I closed my eyes and looked down at my plate, praying for the first time in years. Really praying, to a God that probably didn’t want to listen to me anymore, but I wasn’t praying for me. I just wanted Nicky to be alive. That was it, I just wanted Nicky to survive. Even if she never wanted me to touch her again, or speak to her, or even see her. I just needed to know she was alive.

  At ten to nine, Paulo appeared, alone, and I wanted to throw up everything I’d eaten that morning. He smiled at me, that cold shark’s smile, and took the seat across from me. “Buenos días, are we ready to leave soon?” he asked in a light tone, and I had to swallow both my rage and my breakfast back down.

  “Yes, jefe,” I answered along with the others.

  “Good. I have a feeling today will go well.” He beckoned Anna Maria over so she could bring him coffee, and then he put some food on his plate to quickly eat. I thought through a hundred ways to ask about Nicky, but all of them sounded demanding. Finally, as if he could read my fucking mind, Paulo looked at me, his dead eyes glittering. “Go on, ask.”

  “Where is the girl?” I kept my voice soft, and his false smile widened.

  “In my room. I’ll return her to you when we get back from the meeting.” He took a bite of sausage, savoring it for a second, and then he laughed quietly. “She does scream so nicely, cuadro, you were right. I will have to enjoy her again sometime.”

  “Whenever you want, jefe.” I said the words on automatic because he’d implied she was alive, that he could have her again in the future. She was alive, she’d survived. I said a quiet thanks to God for giving my black soul one good thing, but the relief I felt was short-lived, because I still had no idea what he’d done to her. No idea if he had snuffed out that light, damaged her beyond repair, broken everything in her that I loved.

  Fuck. Loved?

  That was too complicated a word to process right now, when every man in the room was carrying multiple weapons and prepared to kill. The only comfort I had was that Nathan and the assault team would have every one of these motherfuckers in handcuffs or a body bag by noon.

  And I would be damn sure they got Nicky out of here.

  * * *

  An hour later, we were pulling up in two separate SUVs at the meeting. It was near the harbor, an actual warehouse, and there was someone at the gate to open it for us. Early Saturday morning the place was a ghost town, perfect for slaughter if that was what the Columbians had planned for Paulo and the rest of us.

  I had to focus, had to get my head on straight and be sure I’d told Nathan the right warehouse number. Fortunately, it seemed Luis hadn’t lied to us. It was the right warehouse, and there were two other SUVs outside of it, and one man at the door.

  Paulo looked over at me and smiled. “Do you have my back, cuadro?”

  I kept myself calm, trying to look a little confused. “Claro. Why ask, jefe?”

  “Want to make sure last night didn’t make you feel any different.”

  “No different at all,” I said without a bit of a lie.

  “Bueno. Let us go make some money.”

  We walked inside, and Paulo nodded to Sam and Nicolás who separated in different directions to walk the perimeter. When the man with us tried to speak up, Paulo cut him off. “If you think I will not have my men check the building, you are wrong. Now, take us in.”

  The Columbian looked between all of us, completely outnumbered, and finally led us on a winding path into the center of the warehouse. Past giant boxes, plastic wrapped pallets, and huge containers, until we stepped into a cleared area where a group of armed soldiers stood around two men wearing button-down shirts and an older woman in a black skirt suit.

  “Ah, Paulo García, it is good to finally meet in person.” The woman walked forward alone, extending her hand as Paulo did the same to shake.

  “Señora Márquez, I am glad we were able to arrange this.” He sounded as smooth and calm as he always did, but Jose, Luis, and I still spread out behind him.

  “Yes, and here are my sons. Daniel and Tomás.” She leaned back to wave them forward, and they did, taking up flank on either side of their mother. One looked to be almost thirty, the other a little younger.

  “Bueno. It is good to meet all of you, but let us discuss what we came for. You know I have had a business relationship with the Santiago family for many years… I understand that your family had a disagreement with them and it was handled.”

  “It was handled, and while that was messy, we want this transition to be simple. And I wanted to meet you myself to understand what kind of man you are, beyond what I have been told.” Señora Márquez had a smile as cold and practiced as Paulo, and it made me tense even as I forced myself to forget about Nicky, forget about what the bastard had done to her.

  Paulo smiled, opening his arms wide. “I am an open book, señora. Ask me what you want, and then we will come down to the details of this new arrangement.”

  The fake polite shit was getting old, and I didn’t have the patience to listen as they talked. Two of her men brought over boxes for them to sit on, one of the men removing his jacket so she could sit down on the fabric instead. His guns were not a surprise, but it still made me glance to José to make sure we both had access to ours.

  Samuel and Nicolás joined us again a few minutes later, and walked to Luis. “All clear,” Sam said, loud enough for the others to hear,
but the smile on his face told me the opposite. They’d set up explosives around the building, and I had to hope that Nathan’s team would take them out before they could set them off.

  And where the fuck was Nathan anyway?

  They had been talking for at least ten minutes about the area of Columbia they each grew up in. She talked about her sons, the death of their father, which seemed to be rather recent, and more drivel about how beautiful it was and how Paulo would like to visit the facilities to see them in person. Señora Márquez agreed easily, and then they finally got down to business. Reviewing the numbers from the previous arrangement, bargaining in polite tones, but no one in the damn warehouse believed it.

  To take over another operation in Columbia the Márquez family had to be cold and vicious.

  Shit. As I tuned back into their conversation, I could tell that they were already close to a new agreement. What would happen if they wanted to leave before Nathan’s team was in position? I was tempted to go for my phone in my pocket, to see if he’d sent me a coded message of some kind, but then I heard the door bang open, and I reacted with everyone else. Gun out, I moved with José to grab Paulo. The woman’s sons immediately drew weapons, pointing them at us, and I shielded Paulo just in case this shit went sideways and I was still in.

  I heard boots, men shouting, and Luis yelled across the room, “Is this you?”

  “NO!” One of the Márquez men shouted back, and I cursed.

  “We have to get Paulo out,” I told José, playing my part to the last, and Samuel walked up at the same time.

  “Do I blow them?” he asked.

  “No! We could block ourselves in. Fuck!” José was panicking, looking around, and then the first shots went off and the whole room exploded.

  “Kill them and get us out of here,” Paulo commanded, and I was tempted to put a bullet in him myself. Somewhere that would make him fucking suffer.

  Shouts of “Police!” and “Drop your weapons!” rang out as the assault team poured into the narrow space, wearing tactical gear as the Márquez team tried to flee the other way, firing shots back at the cops. I couldn’t see faces through their masks, but I hoped Nathan—

  POP. POP.

  Pain exploded in my chest and I stumbled and then hit the ground, hearing José and Paulo shouting as others yelled. Someone cried out in pain, and gunfire rang out across the warehouse, but none of it mattered because I was hit. I couldn’t breathe, and I looked down at my chest to see it wet. Swiping my hand over it, I saw blood and I knew I had to be in shock. It had to be shock, because as I pushed at the wounds on my chest to stop the bleeding, they didn’t hurt as much as they should.

  A masked face hovered over me and I tried to grab on to them, to explain who I was, why I was here, but then the man pulled the mask up and I saw Nathan. “Shot. They fucking shot me.” I spoke fast, trying to grab onto him as he looked around the room, and then leaned over me again. “Nicky, get Nicky. She’s in Paulo’s room.”

  “It’s okay, Andre. You did it.” He was looking around, another member of the assault team guarding his back, and then I felt a sharp pain in my neck. The world dipped, swam, and I tried to grab onto him again.

  “Nicky.” My tongue wasn’t working right, the lights funny as they dimmed, and then I realized she was alone in the house. With Diego. No, no. “Nicky, get…”

  I tried to focus, tried to explain, but Nathan wasn’t even looking at me, he was looking away and I cursed him just before the dark swallowed me whole.

  Twenty-Four

  Andre

  I woke up disoriented with a vicious fucking headache. It felt like the worst hangover I’d ever had, and as I tried to sit up, the muscles across my chest argued and I fell back onto whatever I was laying on. What the fuck— The meeting. The assault team. I’d been shot by one of those idiots!

  Forcing my eyes open against the bright lights I scrambled for my shirt, and finally felt someone grab my hand. “Whoa, whoa, Andre! Chill out, man. We got them, we got’em.”

  It took a minute for the glaring lights to let me focus and see Nathan’s face. I growled. “Who the fuck shot me?”

  “I did.” He laughed as I tried to reach for him, and then poked a finger hard into my chest and I groaned. “Well, not really. They were rubber bullets, have these blood caps on the end so they explode on you, makes it look like you’ve been shot. Pretty cool, actually, but I’ve been told they hurt like a bitch.”

  “Fuck you,” I growled, but I had to admit I was relieved I hadn’t actually been shot. Still, my head was foggy, confused. “Why did I pass out then?”

  “I drugged you. Just a simple sedative, but we needed everyone there to think you’d died. Carried you out in a body bag and everything.” Nathan looked proud, and I wanted to punch him in the face. “Now, no one is going to look for you while we take these bastards to court. Smart shit, right? We had someone from DEA on the team and it was their idea, and although they’re cocky bastards, it worked great.”

  “Would you shut up for five minutes? Christ…” I grumbled, rubbing my face, and then I flinched. “How’s Nicky?”

  “We’ll talk about that later, I need you to wake up and give us a report-out.” I heard an edge to Nathan’s voice and I forced myself up, realizing I was on a couch of some kind. There were people all over the house we were in, people talking and making calls, but I didn’t see Nicky.

  “Where the fuck is Nicky?” I met his eyes and saw the flicker in them.

  “Give us your report-out, and we’ll talk about—”

  I grabbed Nathan by the shirt and hauled him towards me, ignoring the ache of the bruised muscles in my chest. They were just bruises, I’d survive, Nicky might not. “No. Right fucking now. Where is she?”

  He shoved my hand away, straightening his shirt as he leaned back in the chair he’d pulled over. “We sent a team to Paulo’s house, but it was empty. We’ve got the missing persons report out across the city, and have sent up alerts to be on the look out for—”

  “You son of a bitch!” I forced myself to my feet, swaying for a moment, and I cursed him again for drugging me. “I told you, I fucking told you to get her out of there.”

  Stumbling forward, I caught myself on the door frame and Nathan grabbed my arm. “You need to sit your ass back down and let the other cops do their job. You have to do yours.”

  “I’m not doing shit until Nicky is safe.”

  “Fine, then it’s a fucking order. Understand? You will sit down, you will complete the report-out, and you will meet with—”

  I decked him before I could even think through how stupid it was, and Nathan went down hard. If I’d knocked him out, it would just be returning the favor. Walking through the next room, I ignored the stares I got and wandered into a kitchen. There was a set of keys on the counter and I snagged them and stumbled to the front door to get it open.

  Nicky. I had to get to Nicky.

  Walking outside was painful, the sun too bright, but I just squinted through it, pressing the lock button on the keychain over and over until I heard a horn honk and moved towards it. It was a plain sedan, probably one of the cop’s unmarked cars, but I didn’t give a shit. Climbing in, I dug in my pocket, relieved to still have my cell phone on me. As soon as the GPS figured out where the fuck I was, I floored it to Paulo’s house.

  If there were any clues, that would be where I’d find them.

  * * *

  It took almost forty minutes to get to Paulo’s, and I was grateful to see that they’d left the gate wide open after the assault team had hit it. There was police tape across the front door, and I parked right in front of the entrance.

  She’s not here. You already know she’s not here.

  Still, I couldn’t help but rush inside. Ripping the tape down and breaking the seal on the door to get inside. I took the stairs two at a time, only tripping once with the lingering effects of the damn sedative, but when I got to Paulo’s room the door was wide open. I’d never been in his be
droom, and was surprised by how large it was. At least three times the size of my own, which wasn’t a small room. Then my heart stopped.

  There were dark, crimson smears on the pale sheets on the bed. Not a lot of blood, but enough to know the bastard had hurt her. I fought down the rage, pushing it down, and tried to focus so I could think. I needed to be cold. There was a length of chain extending into the bathroom from one of the posts on the bed and I followed it, but it abruptly cut off. Broken links on the floor that gave me more questions than answers.

  Shit. Nicky couldn’t have broken that without help, which meant… I ripped my phone out of my jeans and called Diego. I’d skin him alive if he had her. I’d rip him to shreds and make him suffer long before I let him die. It rang to voicemail the first time, and I stomped down to my room, fumbling for the key tucked in my front pocket.

  My room was untouched, and I dug out Nicky’s duffel bag and mine, filling mine with weapons, my laptop, my books, the notes from my closet, and other shit I didn’t want the idiots who’d search this place going through. The bag weighed a ton when I started back down the stairs, ignoring the pain in my chest as I called Diego again.

  “Who is this?” Diego answered this time, sounding like the asshole he always did.

  “Did you fucking take Nicky from the house?”

  “Andre? How the hell are you out? I heard you all got snapped up by the cops—”

  “Dammit, Diego! If you took Nicky I’m going to put you in the ground, pinche pendejo. You better not have touched—”

  Diego laughed, actually fucking laughed, and I let the black surge inside me. “Are you fucking kidding me? Paulo was arrested. We’re all fucked! You think I’m going to drag some angry puta with me when I’m trying to get out of town before I get locked up?” He laughed some more and I hung up on him.