Ruin: The El Diablo Chronicles

by Autumn Sand

  From the corner of my eye, I catch Clay staring at us…no…Tallie. He stares at her in a way that makes me want to put a bullet in his goddamn head. Rage builds inside of me, making my dick harder that steel.

  I can either kill him or fuck her, but something has to give. Deciding she wouldn’t be happy with me killing her best friend’s boyfriend, I opt for the second choice.

  I rise quickly, startling Tallie. Her eyes widen and her jaw slackens.

  “I need you, now,” I say as I hold out my hand. Without hesitation, she takes it and rises.

  She quickly throws a “See you later” to Maggie and Clay as I hustle her out of the club and into my waiting car. Yeah, I could’ve taken her to my apartment in the club, but after the last time, I didn’t want any bad vibes or memories to stop me from what I was about to do to her tonight. I want in her so fucking bad, I can taste it.

  Inside the back of my Escalade, the privacy partition is up and so are her long smooth legs. Up and around my shoulders, her legs rest as I kneel before the throne to kiss the ring and beg for entry. To my delight, she is sans underwear, either for my benefit or because she didn’t want panty lines because of the tight dress she wore. Either way, I’m a happy man.

  My arousal becomes out of control when I inhale her scent. Tenderly, I stroke the apex of her thighs as she moans in pleasure. I flick my tongue over her clit, like a jackhammer inside of her wet pussy.

  She wiggles against my tongue, making me harder for her. Yeah, I can’t wait until I’m inside of her, claiming her with one thrust of my dick.

  “Please, now. I need you so bad.” She pulls at my hair.

  I climb slowly up her body, taking licks and nips along the way. Hovering over her, I say, “Daddy will make it all better.”

  Her beautiful face contorts and she begins to scream, not in pleasure but in pain. “Get off of me!”

  From my bedroom window, I watch the approach of the limo as it slows to a stop in front of the steps that lead to the front door. My heart leaps into my mouth and I stifle a sob.

  He’s back and my mother is away on her women’s retreat.

  The curtain my trembling hand was clutching bends the rod it’s attached to. I release it instantly and stare at the curve of the rod I created from my fear. And now, a new form of terror hits me when I realize my mother will notice when she gets back, and will punish me.

  Eyeing the chair next to my desk, I decide to straighten the rod when I see him step out of the limo. His briefcase is in one hand and his cell is in the other. He looks up and I hide behind my curtain, in hopes of him thinking I’m not home. But that won’t last long, especially when he asks one of the servants.

  Curtain rod forgotten, I hastily grab my book bag and purse and run to my bedroom door. With virtually no plan in place, I flee down the stairs just as he enters. I stop in the middle of the staircase and our eyes lock. He smiles at me, but it falls when he eyes what I am holding.

  “Where are you off to?” He hands our maid, Nancy, his briefcase without acknowledgment.

  I lower my head and stare at my feet as I take one step at a time to the bottom landing. My ponytail sways behind me and my plaid pleated skirt hikes a bit in the front. His eyes linger on my legs and work their way up further, to parts that are all too familiar to him. Reflexively, my hands go to straighten my skirt, my bag forgotten. It tumbles down the steps, coming to rest at his feet.

  He bends to pick it up, holding it out for me to take, almost like a dare. My mouth begins to quiver and my heart beats a thrum of dread.

  “I-I’m going to Karla’s house to do homework.” Finally, at the second to last step, I hold my hand out for the bag, but he takes a step back. Fear wraps its way around my soul and I fight to not cry. Walking down the rest of the steps, I make a wide berth around him to head towards the door and my freedom—to hell with the bag.

  “Aren’t you forgetting something?” His voice is sweet like honey, the same voice he uses to soothe me afterward, when he is done raping me.

  “Umm, I-I really have to go.” I stammer my words out. Five more steps and I’ll be at the door. Another fifteen steps and I’ll be down the steps. Another hundred, the gate.

  “Tallie.” His voice is now authoritative, like a preacher damning all sinners to hell.

  My back stiffens and I know the wisest thing to do is to obey. Perhaps I can run? If I run, I can escape and be free. But where would I run to? I have nowhere to go and no money, except those quarters I earned from him for being a “sweet girl.”

  “Tallie, you hear me?” I hear the click of his footsteps behind me, coming closer, into my personal space. I want to scream, and bring the walls of this house down.

  “Yes.” My voice is weak because I am weak.

  His hand touches my shoulder and a shudder wracks my body, like someone walking over my grave. Slowly, he turns me to face him and I stare at the Italian marble tiles on the floor. Counting the swirls of ivory and flecks of gold, anything to not have to look into the eyes of the devil.

  “Look at me when I’m talking to you.” Again, his voice is like the sugar in sweet tea.

  My eyes begin to drift slowly up. First, I look at his polished shoes and see the reflection of his arm on them. His pant legs and their sharp creases he insists on having. His gold buckle belt with his initials on it, one of many he has used to restrain my hands. The handkerchief in his jacket, one of many he has used to gag me, so no one could hear my cries of pain. His arms, which I know have the reach to find me wherever I go. His lips…he used to force his kisses on me and then kiss away my tears when he was finished. And finally, his eyes—the cold, dead eyes that only seem alive when he is inflicting pain.

  “Now that’s better.” His hand moves from my shoulder and caresses my cheek. I flinch at his touch and he tsks me. “What time will you be back?” His eyes soften as he awaits my reply.

  “I thought—” My eyes drift to the floor but he cups my chin and lifts my head so our eyes meet again. “I thought I could spend the night.”

  His arms drop to his side and he shakes his head. “Sorry, that simply won’t do. When your mother is away, I’m in charge of you. As my daughter, I must insist that you come home tonight at a decent hour. We will have dinner together and I shall go to your room and help you with your studies.”

  That is often what he says for the ears of my mother and the servants. But he and I both know the only studies he is interested in is biology—human biology.

  “I’m all caught up with my studies,” I retort, knowing this won’t slow down his advances.

  “Then we will go over your Bible studies. I believe I gave you some homework a week ago. Did you complete it?”

  My head lowers and my bottom lip trembles. “No, sir.”

  Again, his cold fingers tilt my head up to face him. “Then I’m afraid you can’t go out tonight. Go to your room and I’ll call you when it’s time for dinner.”

  This was his plan all along and there is no way out. I’m stuck here, I’ll be forced to eat dinner with him. Forced to have pleasant conversations and then forced on my knees where he will do vile things to my body. Things no one should have to submit to.

  My body can’t take it anymore. I bled from my rectum for days the last time, I… I…can’t…do…this…any…more. An avalanche of emotions overtakes my body and I am unable to catch my breath. My eyes roll to the back of my head and my knees begin to give way. His arms reach out and catch me, lowering my body to the floor and he beside me, kissing me on my temple. As we sit on the floor, he whispers, “Now, now. Daddy will make it all better.”

  “Tallie.” I hear El’s voice pulling me back to the present, but the memory has a tight hold on me and I do what I should have done all those years ago—I fight.

  “Get off of me!” I scream. My arms flail about desperately, trying to hit the memories of my past but only connecting with my present.

  “Tallie, stop it.” My lover, El, tries to restrain me but I’m like
a wild woman. I’m too far gone into the past that the present is no longer a reality. “No, get away from her. I’ll handle this,” he barks out at someone who must’ve entered the room. When did we get out of the SUV?

  “Tallie, open your eyes. It’s me. El. It’s me.”

  “No, please, stop.” My father edges his way closer to me on the bed. I crawl deeper into the corner, pulling the sheets up to cover me. “Please, Daddy, don’t,” I cry into the silk quilt.

  El’s eyes widen in shock and then in horror as understanding comes over him. Slowly, he lifts his hands up in surrender. “No baby, Daddy won’t hurt you.”

  I choke on my tears and cough. “Pleeaase, I can’t take any more. I hurt.”

  El rocks back on his heels on the bed, his hands falling to his side, his face stricken with pain. “Wh-where baby?”

  Slowly, I lift my trembling hand, and I freeze. Whose hand is that? Why is it so big?

  “Tallie.” My eyes lift to see his pleading eyes. “Where do you hurt?”

  The adult hand that has lifted now points to my vagina. “Here,” I whisper, tears coating my lips.

  He swallows hard, reaching his hand out to touch me, but I shrink away again. His face squelches with pain as his hand drops to his side. “Is that all?” His voice is a ball of emotion.

  I shake my head and bury my face into the pillows along the headboard.

  “Where else?” His voice is tight, like a gear grinding.

  Again, the hand comes out and points to my rectum, then to my stomach, my breasts, my head. It points to every inch of my body. What he sees is smooth, unbruised, untarnished skin, but in my reality, I’m covered in bruises and bite marks. I’ve been tied to this bed for a week and covered in my own filth.

  “Baby, Daddy won’t hurt you anymore. I promise.” His eyes plead with me and his hand reaches out, offering me a path out of the darkness.

  “You won’t hurt me?” I look at him through blurred vision caused by the tears of my past.

  “No. Come to me, baby. Come to me.” Now both of his arms are extended, yet another way home.

  I reach out my hand but instantly snatch it back, and I bite my bottom lip. “I’m dirty.”

  “Then I’ll wash you.”

  “No more pain?” One hand is safely planted within his own.

  “No more pain.” He waits for me to give him my other hand, and my trust.

  “Promise?” My hand stops midway to him.

  “I promise.”

  And with that, I give him my trust and he gives me his strength.

  My arms protectively wrap around Tallie, holding her close to me in the shower. The water pelts my back and pierces my soul with her tears. Her head leans on my chest like a child and I hold her tighter, my silent promise of protection from her demons. Together, we stand like this. Slowly, she has come back to me in the present, away from the terror of her past. Words are not needed between us, because words are weak and we are strong.

  She gave me her pain the size of eternity, which I swallowed whole and became a complete man. I gave her my strength and she digested it with her tears on her path of healing.

  The two broken threads that we are slowly mending itself into the patchwork of living life. For the first time since my mother’s death, I allowed myself to feel and a flood of unhealed pain drowned me. I hold on to her for support as well as giving my own.

  “El?” Her voice is so small, nothing like the woman whose shoulders carried this burden for too long.

  “Yes?” My hands absentmindedly stroke her back.

  “Thank you.” She leans her head back to look into my eyes, into my soul.

  I bend down and kiss the bridge of her nose. She leans into this moment of affection and exhales, wrapping her arms tighter around me.

  “Let’s get out of this shower,” I suggest, reaching behind me to turn the spray of water off.

  Surrounded by just the sound of our own breaths, she reaches for my hand. “If you want to finish what we started before, I—”

  Instinctively, my finger touches her lips and I shake my head. “Tonight is not about that. I just want to hold you.”

  “Bu—”

  “Nah, Tals. Tonight is your night.”

  She smiles and nods. For a moment, I get a glimpse of the little girl she used to be before her innocence was stolen from her.

  “El?” Concern is written on her face as I was lost in the thoughts of what could’ve been for her had she not been violated.

  I look at her, blinking away surprise at hearing my name. “Yeah, all good, baby. Let me dry you off.”

  I reach for the plush towel and wrap her in it, kissing the top of her head before I start drying her off. For each spot I dry, I kiss away the pain she pointed to only hours ago. She chokes back sobs. When I’ve finished drying off and kissing every part of her body, I carry her to my bed and place her in it, wrapping us both in the cocoon of my silk quilt. She lays her head on my bare chest and listens to my heartbeat. Eventually, her every breath matches the beat of my heart. We stay like this until she drifts off to sleep.

  I become lost in my thoughts and make a silent promise to kill her stepfather and mother. I’ll kill anyone who has brought her harm. I’ll lay their half-dead bodies at her feet and we can make love to the sound of their tears. Her screams of climax to drown out their cries. They’ll quickly learn why and how I earned the name El Diablo.

  Instantly, I know I won’t have my men do it. I want the pleasure of torturing them and making them plead for their lives. A wish I won’t grant. I’ll carve my initials on them and dip my finger in their blood.

  A movement at my bedroom door breaks me out of my trance and my eyes land on Chicken. He nods his head in the direction of the door. My eyes close momentarily as the reality of responsibilities hit me. I look down at the sleeping beauty in my arms before I begin to pry myself from her so I can step into one of the many hats that I wear.

  Grabbing a pair of slacks from the floor, I pull them on quickly and walk out of the bedroom and towards my office. Chicken is already seated in his usual spot. I walk over to my desk and sit.

  “She all right?”

  My eyes open in surprise at his question. Chicken, who is a killer like myself, tends not to care about how people are doing.

  “Yeah, she is for now.” I let that linger between us. He knows better than to ask more questions.

  “The Columbians are ready for the sit-down.”

  Leaning back in my chair, I beckon for him to continue.

  “They said they have the information that you need about the movement of Pedro’s men.”

  “When?” I swivel my chair to face the window overlooking the city.

  “Tomorrow.”

  The words that would normally come out of my mouth, don’t. Instead, guilt fills the void of my silence and a burden weighs on my shoulders. I turn around to look at him. “Push it out. I can’t leave her right now.”

  Chicken inhales, then exhales loudly. “You know that’s a bad call. If you weren’t so caught up with her, you’d know it.”

  My fists slam down on the desk and papers jump. Standing, I glare at my best friend and right-hand man. “Since when do you question me?” I look down at him, my nostrils flaring, and my muscles tighten.

  Chicken rises and faces me. “Since now, when you start making bad decisions for a piece of ass.”

  With the speed of a panther, I grab him and throw him against the wall. Pictures shake and crash at our feet. In all the years we’ve been friends, blows have never been exchanged, until now.

  His eyes flash a sign of danger and mine a warning of death to come. Both of us are at a standoff at the gates of hell. One is surely to die.

  “What the fuck is going on?” Kenny asks from my door. He looks at us and then his eyes drift to the fallen pictures on the floor.

  “Get out,” I spit out angrily at him while keeping my eyes on Chicken.

  Kenny steps in front of the two of us. �
�No, bro. I don’t know what is going on, but I do know that you two are best friends. Nothing should be coming between you.”

  My eyes narrow at my brother. “So, you’re not high for a change, and now you think you’re a therapist?”

  The pain of my words cut across his face but he masks it as quickly as it came. “Damn, Ray. You not going to be happy till everybody is as fucking miserable as you.” He walks towards the door. “You know what, fuck it. Kill each other if you want. But I’m telling you this right now. He’s the closest thing you have to a brother right now, you piece of shit.”

  Guilt knocks at my conscience. I know I should apologize to my brother, but my pride gets in the way and weighs me down with leaden feet.

  Chicken looks at me and then at the empty doorway my brother once inhabited. “I’ll go check on him,” he mumbles as he steps over the broken glass.

  And like that, I know the beef is settled between us. Perhaps to be settled at another time.

  Drip.

  Drip.

  Drip.

  The bathroom faucet drips a beat into the sink. For a brief moment, I wonder if I have the courage to drown myself in my tub and be done with it all.

  What am I going to do?

  Dear God, how much more are you going to punish me for killing my father and baby brother?

  He told me if I lay with him, you will forgive my sins.

  Am I forgiven?

  He told me it would be a sin to deny him and that your light will shine down on me.

  Where is my light? I’m lost in the dark.

  Pray, that is what I need to do. I must pray.

  Dear God, please forgive me for all of my sins. Heavenly Father, I am your most loyal subject. I have done your bidding. I ask only to not let this be. Let this be wrong. Please. I promise not to fight him next time. I promise to do everything he asks of me. I promise, but please, don’t let this be.