Here/Now

by D. D. Lorenzo

  As Manny pursued Carlos’ approval he found his mentor cruel and fierce. If refusing an order was punishable by death, any show of emotion was not tolerated. An inexcusable offense, it was promptly beaten away. More than once Manny was on the receiving end of his anger until he became…numb. Carlos trained Manny unmercifully, both physically and emotionally. It was drilled into him that the harsh treatment was for his own good, and he received favor because he survived the training. Manny was accepted by his superiors, and Carlos was the proud owner/father of a handsome, physically superior, cold bastard and all of those traits could be very useful. Emotionally void and desensitized was the type of man Carlos wanted, and he achieved his goal. Manny now possessed the cold, calculating personality of an assassin and could handle any job—no matter the gender. If Carlos was confident, so was his protégé—until one day, when what little humanity was left inside of him cracked. It was the day he was given the order to watch Mari. Although he hadn’t paid her much attention when he was younger, it seemed as Manny grew and matured, so did Mari. Her beauty was striking, and his remaining independence, what little there was, responded when he saw her. On that day he decided to hide two things from Carlos.

  He wanted Mari.

  He hated her for it.

  He remembered Carlos’ lessons regarding his daughters. They were charismatic, especially Mari. He watched her use her sexuality more than once to get her own way. Her father had other plans. He wanted to use the girls as bait, or bargaining chips, for his acquisitions. He expected Manny to help him carry out those plans when the time came. It was imperative that he remain cold and distant from her;

  If he wanted to survive in the cartel. He saw how she used her father’s men to get what she wanted, and as long as he remained detached she wouldn’t be successful. Her efforts to seduce him would be in vain because he would never allow it. To possess her meant she’d control a part of him, and he knew once he’d a taste of her, she would be as damning as forbidden fruit. He’d never be able to have her just once. It would be possible for his body to be used against him—and it couldn’t happen.

  He would never allow it.

  Ever.

  She was his responsibility, his job. Today, this he concentrated on. She deserved better than this. He would respect her father’s memory by giving her every material thing she wanted or needed. He owed Carlos that much. Although he was gone, Manny knew in order to stay in control of the operation he couldn’t be sidetracked by Marianna’s antics. He was spending valuable time to clean up this mess, and he refused to allow his lust to compete with his intellect. He would find a way to get her to understand the meaning of obedience. Her father wouldn’t have been pleased about this, and he was well aware of her manipulation tactics where men were involved. Until Manny had proof she thought of him as her savior, he wouldn’t touch her. For his physical needs, there were always women to offer him… assistance—and he would use them. This way, it wouldn’t be possible to compromise rational thoughts with lust, and with Mari sex was the first weapon she used.

  His thoughts returned to the visitor’s room and how long he’d been there. It was more than five minutes, and it was beginning to piss him off. He never wasted time or resources, and the delay was testing him. She’d kept him waiting before. He didn’t like it then, and he had even less a supply of patience now. Nonetheless, he was committed to her. There was no other choice.

  The first rule he would establish would be to let her know the consequences of not contacting him directly when something went wrong. Mari was not the one who informed him of this issue. She knew better than that and it angered him. He again thought of Carlos’ methods of discipline. Perhaps Mari needed to experience the consequences of her actions. It would reinforce the ramifications of not obeying. If he was not able to convince her using her father’s methods, he had his own way of extracting obedience. He’d given her exactly what she wanted and she repaid his kindness by making herself a public spectacle. He’d given her a gift when he allowed her to leave Columbia. He could just as easily take it away.

  “Manny please! Papi is gone. If I stay here I have nothing, and if I go I will have everything. They’ve promised me a place to live and very good money. Look at the contract! Don’t you think it is what he would want for me? To be successful? If I do half as well as they promise, I can take care of Marchelle too. It will be two of us that you don’t have to worry about.”

  He stared at her, and made her wait for an answer. He liked her reliance on him—and he liked to hear her beg.

  Finally, he gave her his decision.

  “You can go, BUT, we do it my way, Mari. No questions asked. There will be conditions, and you must agree to them. Comprende?

  He watched a smile play at the corners of her mouth. She liked getting her way.

  He wanted her to trust him and what better way to do it than let her go. He was engrossed in new responsibilities. Carlos was dead. There was much to do. She was an adult, barely, but he allowed her to have the freedom she desired. Although she didn’t know it, he monitored her very closely when she arrived in New York, but as the years went by, and she’d become more independent, he became more lenient.

  Obviously, it was a mistake.

  True to her word she cared for her sister. He didn’t have any concerns for Marchelle. She was the one who balanced Mari. Marchelle was sweet and Mari was not. Her temper was her downfall. It had always gotten her into trouble. Usually, Manny fixed any minor issues associated with her ego, but this time was much more difficult. She was so high profile that it was always a race against the clock to intercept any difficulties. Now, for the first time, bad news hadn’t travelled quickly enough, and he found himself far removed from Bogotá. There were important issues he set aside to come to the United States and rectify this problem.

  Sorely disappointed with the adequacy his men delivered in this particular incident, he slit the throat of one, and used his bare hands to choke the other. In doing so, he “killed two birds with one stone”. Physically he released some tension, and psychologically he sent a message throughout the organization.

  Incompetence was not allowed.

  As the guard directed her to the visitor’s area she appeared puzzled.

  Manny shifted to get a better view, the chair making creaking sounds as it adjusted to his weight. He knew she hadn’t seen him yet. Immediately he was relieved. He thought he would find a repentant and contrite Marianna. He had never seen her grovel and hoped this place hadn’t beaten her down. The look of indignation she carried proudly pleased him, but it didn’t take long to pique his anger.

  Marianna had put herself in this position.

  They led her like a dog. No one was allowed to treat her badly—except him. He could be angry with her; he could discipline her—but he’d kill before he let someone else do it.

  She belonged to him!

  He felt the scowl as it appeared and it deepened with each step she took. His jaw clenched as he honed in on the man who dared to touch her. She was thinner than when he last saw her, too thin in his opinion. She looked more like a victim than a model. Still, nothing could divert his attention from her natural beauty.

  Her long, beautiful hair!

  It hung lifeless around her shoulders like a shroud, and it distressed him to see it disheveled and poorly groomed.

  Mari would never allow someone to see her this way!

  He took mental note that she, apparently, lacked the proper tools to present herself well. He could fix that small thing with one phone call. Though he lacked sympathy for most people, he found himself incensed with her condition.

  As she passed through the last barrier, she angrily snapped her arm out of the guard’s hand, and Manny chuckled under his breath.

  At least she hadn’t lost her fire!

  She anxiously scanned the room, but it showed on her as a spiteful curiosity. He sensed her confusion. She had no idea why she was here, and he was amused when she gave the guard a conte
mptuous glare.

  Then she saw him.

  Manny knew she was relieved the moment their eyes connected. She wasn’t afraid of his anger, she was happy he would rescue her. He could read her face and he saw a brief flicker of delight in her eyes. She was guarded, carefully covering her emotions with a veil of composure. As she sat she graced him with a rare, genuine smile. The guard stood vigil over them both and watched as she seated herself across from him. Obediently she folded her hands on the table, and respectfully waited for him to speak.

  “Gorda”, he said lovingly. Placing his large hands over her delicate ones, he returned her smile.

  Her eyes sparkled and danced with emotion.

  “Manny, what are you doing here?”

  She was polite, and for a moment she even sounded carefree.

  “I could ask you the same thing, chica”, he answered. “A misunderstanding perhaps?”

  There was conviction in his tone and she knew he was displeased. However, it didn’t detract from her happiness at seeing him. She didn’t get visitors other than doctors, counselors or her attorney. Seeing him made her very happy as she realized how much she missed him. She was confident he would fix everything. He always did.

  Of course, Manny had an agenda. He watched her body language. Already he could tell she was trying to manipulate him. She suggestively leaned in, giving him a perfect view down her shirt. Two could play this game. He wasn’t beyond using charm to get what he wanted either.

  “Yes”, she quietly answered. “It was a misunderstanding.”

  She looked down at the floor, her lashes fluttering seductively. Aware that she was in trouble, she strategized her next move. She knew he could see her breasts so she pulled her arms in to her side, making them voluptuous. She’d detected a hint of anger, but she’d learned how to get out of it; become helpless and repentant.

  “I always seem to find myself in the middle of them, don’t I Manny?” she cautiously asked.

  “Yes, baby girl. You do.”

  He sounded just like her Pappi—and it unnerved her.

  He orchestrated his next moves. This was a game of negotiation. He would make an offer, and she would counteroffer. The game could be played indefinitely with a worthy opponent. He could tell she wanted to play, however she hadn’t seen him for quite some time. She had no idea how good he was at this game.

  “I wasn’t around to help you with this one, baby. It seems you’re in some serious trouble this time.”

  He acted sympathetic and held her hands, gently squeezing them to comfort her. His goal was to assure and calm her, and it seemed to be working.

  It took her a few moments to compose her thoughts. She was aware that in order to get what she needed, she would have to respect his position. It was imperative to build his trust, for trust equaled control. He couldn’t control Marisol—but he could control Marianna.

  “They say I’m sick, Manny,” she confessed.

  She looked around nervously to see if anyone was listening. When she was confident they weren’t, she continued.

  “They say I become someone I’m not—especially when I’m angry. They want to give me medicine to control it. I think its bullshit!”

  Her desperation quickly turned to defiance.

  This he expected!

  Moving her eyes from side to side she scouted the room, paranoid someone would hear.

  “I know they can’t make me take anything I don’t want to!”

  Analyzing her behavior, he heard a heady mixture of confusion, sadness, and rebellion in her tone. Manny had seen her this way before, and it’s opposite when she was frantically happy.

  Continuing to comfort her, he never let go of her hands, and moved in such a way it made her feel protected. This was no easy task on the hard plastic chair and a six foot, five inch frame. He, too, took the precaution of scanning the room for privacy. He also made a mental note to contact her doctors to discuss her condition.

  “They’re probably right, chica,” he said. “Your mindset might be more stable if you took the medicine.” He laughed from deep in his chest. “You would probably be more peaceful and think more clearly. Perhaps you wouldn’t be as prone to get into… trouble.”

  Now she wondered if he was really on her side. His words ignited the spark which blazed a murderous look. She glared at him and spoke under her breath.

  “I don’t want to be peaceful, you son of a bitch! I like my moods, and my spark! If people don’t appreciate it, screw them—and screw you too! It’s made me what I am, and most people love it. I love it!”

  Manny squeezed her hands painfully. He didn’t want her dramatic use of them to alert the guards.

  “…and look where it’s gotten you!” he said angrily.

  “You are unique, Mari, but they’re talking murder! Vehicular homicide to be exact—not to mention the woman you held captive! You have to go along with this! You will do what I say, and before you decide to go off on me again, you’d better remember who you’re talking to, baby—or I’ll leave your ass in here to rot! Comprende?”

  Once again, her mood quickly changed from pissed off to pathetic.

  “Manny, please!” she pleaded. “You can get me out of this! I know you can!! You have to! Please, please! Get me out of here!”

  At least she acknowledged his influence and power. He decided to bring up her delinquency.

  “You didn’t contact me when this happened. I found out on my own. I don’t think I can do much to rectify the situation you’ve placed yourself in. However, I do have some connections and I may be able to help—if you do as I say.”

  He leaned in close, intimidating her with his malevolent tone.

  “What you did was bad, Marianna. Very bad!”

  She bowed her head sorrowfully. Looking at the table’s mundane Formica, she placed her hands obediently in her lap.

  He wasn’t finished. It was impossible to impose punishment on her and he hated the restriction of this room. He wanted to deal with Mari on his own and being here hindered him. He lowered his voice.

  “Mari, look at me.”

  She refused.

  “Now,” he said as he ground his teeth.

  She looked up at him.

  “I’m going to do everything I can to get you out of here,” he said. “They have no proof you killed anyone, especially now they’ve discovered you had a twin.”

  She looked surprised he knew so much.

  “I haven’t learned much,” he continued, “but I was told the trooper’s wife was killed by Marchelle, and, lucky for you, she’s dead. It gives me something to work with.”

  He forced her to look directly at him by painfully gripping her chin.

  “The dead don’t talk, Mari. Remember that.”

  He saw a brief—very brief—stab of pain when he mentioned her sister. He couldn’t tell if it was grief—or guilt.

  “True?” he asked.

  He wanted her to reveal what actually happened.

  “I said…” he repeated with a menacing stare. “Isn’t it true Marianna?!”

  His brow raised in question, waiting for her to speak.

  “Yes. It is true,” she spat and jerked her chin from his hand. “She was the one driving the car when Lacey Sinclair was killed.”

  She was lying, and he knew it. There was more to the story.

  She threw her head back exasperated, then nervously ran her hands through her hair.

  “It wasn’t me, Manny!” she lied. “I really didn’t know what happened. I thought it was a deer! If I had known it was a person, I would have made Marchelle stop the car. We could have gotten help. I would never have left the woman in the road!” She wrung her hands as she fretted. “I was looking down at a magazine when Marchelle hit her.”

  She could tell he wasn’t convinced.

  “You have to believe me!!” she pleaded. “I think she knew it was a person and got scared. It’s most likely why she kept driving.

  Placing his fingertips together, h
e sat back to watch as she pieced together the fabricated story.

  “Uh huh…” he nodded.

  She tilted her head.

  “You believe me, don’t you? I would have done anything to save that woman!”

  He knew that, even though given the opportunity to tell the truth, she lied. He narrowed his eyes in disapproval. Her slightly slumped shoulders revealed her intimidation.

  Slightly trembling, she was fully aware of the influence and power he had. She hadn’t seen Manny in a few years and she wasn’t sure how much like her father he’d become. No matter what, she had to get on his good side. He possessed the ability to have her released, and she didn’t want to be on the side of it that wasn’t to her benefit. She knew beyond a shadow of a doubt, if he caught her lying, any fear she felt was justified. He hadn’t answered the question, and she held her breath awaiting his response.

  Suddenly, one corner of his mouth lifted. She wasn’t sure if it was a half-smile or a sneer. Both could mean a bad thing, and for a moment she was terrified. Did she really think she could fool him?

  He sat back in the chair, one hand on the table as he tapped his fingers rhythmically. Had she been away from him so long she forgot who she was dealing with? He stared, forcing her to be patient. He knew she hated waiting.

  She couldn’t possibly think he was as stupid as the other men she deceived. She may have manipulated them, but she would have to be very clever to do the same to him. She was insecure. He could see it all over her face. He knew her too well. She hadn’t figured out if he was here for her benefit or detriment. He thought it was a good thing; to keep her guessing. He could use her insecurity against her. In aiding her he could convince her that his benevolent nature was because he loved her. It was always to a man’s benefit to use a woman’s emotions against her. Given their history she would be uncertain if his love was because of her or her father.