by Autumn Sand
I try to hold my emotions together—a battle I fear I might be losing.
Mags…he killed her, and now he’s trying to use me to kill Manny and El.
His mumbled prayers become louder and my thoughts become wilder.
My eyes go to the six-inch knife on the floor in front of him. Thoughts of what he plans to do to me with the blade flood me and I let out a whimper. With each scenario I think of, I come out dead.
And dead is not a fucking option for me.
Slowly, my eyes move from the knife to Clay, only to find him staring at me. His face is a contortion of revulsion and lust.
The years spent in my stepfather's house of horrors has trained me for a day like today. I’ve learned how to deal with men like him from a very early age—not willingly, but for a matter of survival.
I lower my eyes demurely, humbling myself to him with the simple motion, before glancing back up. A hint of satisfaction appears on his face.
His hand reaches up to stroke my cheek, and I steel my resolve to allow his touch without flinching.
“How I wish I didn’t want you so much.” His voice is low and hoarse. “From the first day I saw you, I knew… I knew I wanted you. I prayed, I prayed to my savior to take the lust from my soul that I had for you.” His head tilts heavenward and with a booming voice, as if he is on stage in front of an audience, he says, “Lord, I tried. You know my soul.”
His arms open towards the heaven above, the dim lights casting a faint shadow around his head, resembling a halo.
A tremble hits me from deep from within and I shudder violently. I fight for control over myself.
“I felt it too,” I whisper in an oddly steadier voice than I currently feel.
He lowers his head to look at me. “You felt it too?” His eyes are wide with hopefulness—he wants to believe the connection is real.
“Of course. God chose me for you, don’t you see? I’m your path to glory and your vengeance of the death of your brother. Use my body as you will and take your rightful place as my lover and my love.” I silence my fears as I say the words, giving them strength in conviction of belief.
His eyes are wild, his breathing erratic. “Come to me,” he beckons and I do as commanded.
I walk to him on my knees. When I reach him, I place my bound hands on my lap and lower my head, offering myself to him.
Leaning into me, his lips brush against mine, and for a moment, my spirit leaves my body and my mind goes to its safe place, waiting for the ordeal to be over. I’ve become that ruined little girl in my stepfather’s house once again.
The adult Tallie fights to the forefront for survival while the child Tallie tugs her hand, trying to lead her away from the danger.
His hand snakes around my waist and finally, I snap back into the here and now. Clay’s kissing me from my lips and down my neck. He smells of onions and beef, and I choke back a gag.
I throw my head back to give him better access to my neck. Licking my lips, I let out an, “Mmmhmm.”
He pauses and peeks up to see if I am indeed enjoying this. I smile at him and beg him for more. His greedy tongue searches more of my body as his anxious hands tear away parts of my top, exposing me to him and to God.
I say a silent prayer in my head, begging God for forgiveness of my sins.
I gasp loudly when he pushes me backward, and I clumsily fall to my side. I try to right myself but without use of my hands, it’s unlikely I will succeed.
He hovers over me, not noticing my challenge of straightening myself on the floor. When he leans in for another kiss, I say, “Baby.” I elongate the syllables, like a sexy lullaby. “I want to be able to touch you. I want to make our union special.”
I can’t control the tremble of my voice at the end, but thankfully, he doesn’t notice.
Without debate, he grabs the knife I was looking at before and slices at the ropes, releasing my hands, then drops the blade of death carelessly by his side. Pin needles prickle the flesh of my fingertips as blood is allowed to flow freely once again. Quickly, I massage out the pain and flex my fingers.
Anxiously, he reaches for me, trying to undress me as quickly as possible. Reaching up, I press my hand against his chest, quieting him and his restless hands. His eyes look at me in fear, as if I have the power over him. I lift myself with my elbows and eventually move to a sitting position, where I unbutton his shirt and slide it off of him. He lets out a growl like I’m unleashing the beast in him.
“Let me, baby,” I whisper in his ear as my breasts linger over his face. I feel his breath against my skin as he inhales the scent of me. I hold back a shudder when his tongue brushes across a nipple.
I maneuver him onto his back and move down his body like a snake while peppering parts of him with wet kisses. One hand remains on him, caressing him and giving him the false hope of being wanted, while my other hand blindly searches for the fallen knife.
I stifle a gasp when my hand makes contact with the blade. It gives me courage as I grasp the handle tightly in my hand.
My tongue traces his lips as one hand touches his shoulder to steady myself and the other hand clasps on to the knife. Can I do this? Can I kill a man and watch the life leave his body? My mind is a muddled puddle of confusion and my heart breaks at the loss of my best friend, Mags.
Before I can draw my conclusion, he grabs me and flips me on my back, pinning me down with his body. The air exhales from my body in a whoosh and the knife is knocked from my hand. My fingers search the floor as Clay unbuckles his pants, freeing himself. Tears well up in my eyes each time my fingers reach for the blade and come up empty.
No. I can’t let this happen again.
He has my skirt lifted above my waist and my lace panties have been ripped at the crotch area, giving him easy access to my most guarded possession, other than my life.
I let out a loud cry of terror just as my hand grasps the knife again. Without thinking, and with absolute prejudice, I plunge the knife into his side. His eyes widen in shock and then in anger. Clay yells out in agony and falls over, clutching the gaping wound that is now bleeding profusely.
I scramble to my feet and stare at the bloodied knife in my trembling hand that is now covered in his blood.
With wild eyes, I look from him and back to the knife.
“You stabbed me.” He says it in shock, yet accusing, like I was the one who betrayed him.
“You fucking killed Mags, you bastard!” I scream.
His eyes widen in surprise, then anger flashes across his face. He laughs, coughing up blood. “Vengeance is mine.”
My gaze moves to his uplifted hand holding his cell. As if in slow motion, I blindly reach for the phone, still not sure what is going on. He chuckles as he presses a button. I freeze in horror, unsure of what was supposed to happen, of what will happen.
“What did you do?” My voice is calm but my nerves are not.
A bloody grin forms on his face, and his eyes begin to dim as death takes hold of him.
I slap his face. “What did you do?”
With his dying breath, he laughs one last time before everything falls silent.
Chicken and I race to the church. Some of my men have already been dispatched and we should all arrive at the same time.
“This motherfucker is mine,” I say in between gritted teeth.
“We’ll take turns,” Chicken seconds as he checks his gun and rechecks it again.
My cell rings with an unknown number. I hit the car’s Bluetooth and answer.
“Speak,” I command.
“El?” Tallie’s voice comes through on the speaker.
I almost swerve into traffic when I hear her scared voice.
“Mentirosa, are you hurt? Where are you, baby?” My grip on the steering wheel is so tight, I lose circulation momentarily in my fingers.
“I-I killed him.” Her voice trembles.
Instinctively, my foot hits the brake as pride swells in me. “Are you all ri—”
; “El, listen to me, there isn’t much time. He was able to get a message out before he died.” She sounds like she is running and out of breath.
“To whom? What was the message?”
“It was to someone called Je’sus. The message said now.”
Chicken and I both glance at each other—the nephew Castillo told us about. But what does “Now” mean? It was obviously a code for something more. Part two of their plan, or the grand finale?
“I need you to scroll through the rest of his messages to Je’sus and read them off to me.”
She is silent for a while as my patience nears breaking.
“It all seems to be in code. I don’t really understand what it all means,” she cries into the phone. I open my mouth to say something but then she starts again. “Wait, I see something from this Je’sus person. It says, ‘Deliveries to Pulse and Edge, complete.’”
We are all silent for a moment when it slowly dawns on us all. “When was the text sent?” I ask.
Chicken is already dialing numbers on his phone.
“Last week. Umm, last week, Wednesday.” She gasps. “El, the only deliveries for Pulse last week would’ve been the liquor shipments. Je’sus has to be Jason.”
My memory goes to that night Tals and Jason were at my club. He brought her to my club as a statement to me. I slam my hands on the steering wheel.
“El? Are you there?”
“Yes, are you okay?” I switch the direction of my car and head to Edge. The smell of rubber wafts through the air conditioning ventilation.
“I-I’m fine, but I have to warn my friends at Pulse.” She sounds frantic.
“Mentirosa, I’ll send my men over to Pulse. You wait for one of my men to come and get you.” Instead of it coming out as a command, my voice has a tenderness I never knew existed. We both pause for a second at the realization.
“El, I can’t. No time. I love you.” And with that, she clicks off.
I swerve over to the side. “Go to Edge, I’ll get a cab to Pulse.”
“Bad idea. You have a target on your back.” His eyes narrow and he digs in for a fight.
“Hell ain’t ready for me yet,” I say as I hop out of the car and flag down a cab.
After I hang up with El, I look up Pulse’s number on the internet and dial, only for it to go to voicemail. I flag a cab and jump in, quickly throwing out an address to the driver as I hit redial to no avail.
I press redial. Voicemail. Damn it! I scream internally, as beads of sweat fall down my face.
“Can’t you go faster?” I frantically shout at the driver, again ringing a number where I know what the result of the call will be.
He shakes his head and turns around to look at me. “You see this traffic?”
I look out the window for the first time and notice the Fifth Avenue traffic jam, due to a United Nations general assembly.
Damn it!
“Fuck it, I’ll run,” I say, my hand already on the handle. I’m halfway out the door before he gets a chance to respond.
After kicking off my heels, I run the five blocks to get to Pulse where my boss and friends work. I have to get there in time, so much depends on it. Pumping my legs faster, I move through the crowds of people during the summertime lunch rush.
My heart beat calms when I see Pulse within my sights. Ten more seconds. Nine, eight, I’m almost there.
Five.
Four.
Three.
Two.
The explosion sends me flying backward and into a parked car. The pain in my back ricochets throughout my body, sending a blast of colors across my eyesight. I fight to keep consciousness, a battle that I’m quickly losing. My ringing ears adds to the confusion in my head. Passersby rush to my side, while others stand in shock at the decimated building. Still others attend to the dead and wounded.
Before darkness descends upon me, I see what used to be Pulse, now a mound of rubble and also serving as my friends’ graves.
“Mentirosa, are you ready?” El yells for me from the living room as I put the finishing touches on my makeup.
“Geez, you’re impatient.” I dab the excess lipstick from my lips and grab my purse. “You have the gift?” I ask, walking over to where he stands in the middle of the room, looking at his watch. He’s so handsome in his suit, as always.
“Yeah, Chicken put it in the car already. You know, where we should be?” He pulls me in and kisses me so hard I feel like a snack to his ravenous appetite.
I giggle as I wriggle out of his grasp. I take his hand, and we walk towards the door.
“Can’t believe you got me going to this shindig.” He growls and nips at my ear playfully.
Everything is perfect, for the first time in a very long time. After the explosion, I thought my friends were dead and I was too late. But luckily, El’s men got there ahead of time to get them out. Tony, Tick, and Magnum are all fine, and Tony is in the process of rebuilding Pulse.
El was able to find and kill Je’sus, which cleared the way for Manny to come back, and now we’re on the way to Tony and Anaya’s house for the birthday party of their son, Xavier.
The drive to Westchester goes by quick, or at least it felt that way, as El couldn’t keep his hands off of me. We’ve fallen into a pattern—one that is unfamiliar for two wandering souls, yet comforting.
When the driver pulls up to Tony and Anaya’s house, El gives me one last kiss and holds out his hand for me to take. Together, we walk hand and hand up the steps as Manny swings the front door open with a wide grin on his face.
“’Bout time you two made it.” He kisses me on the cheek and claps his brother on the back.
I take a moment to glance at the picture in front of me. Tony, Anaya, Cyma, Tick, Brenda, Magnum, and Zoe all stand around the house with their various kids. The family looks complete and I choke up for a minute, wiping a tear from my eye.
El wraps a protective arm around my waist and kisses my temple. “What’s wrong?” he murmurs in my ear.
“I’m just so happy. I almost lost my friends, and this is the first time that we’re all back together again.”
He lifts my chin up with the tip of his finger. Our eyes meet and he smiles. “I love you.”
The words I’ve waited to hear from him for so long ring in my ear like a sweet melody. I become so full of love for him and I reach up to wrap my hands around him, but he stops me. My heart drops to the pit of my stomach as disappointment sets in. I look at him and his eyes that showed love and warmth mere seconds ago are now cold. I look over his shoulder and my friends, the people I’ve learned to love as a family, begin to fade away and turn to dust.
My throat becomes dry and I choke for air. My hands desperately reach out for El but his image begins to fade.
“Mentirosa, they’re dead because you were too late. Now wake up.”
I wake, gasping for breath and reaching out for the lost images of my friends. I sit up, my hand protectively covering my heart that has been broken because yes, I was too late. My friends are gone and today is their funerals.
“Nightmare again?”
My head turns in the direction of El’s voice. My eyes adjust to the dark and I find his shadow sitting by the window. I haven’t been back to my apartment since Mags’ death and have taken up temporary residence with El.
I throw the sheet from over me and get out of bed, walking towards the bathroom. “Sort of,” I mumble.
He follows behind me and stands by the bathroom door, watching me splash cold water on my already damp face.
“You don’t have to go to their funerals today. No one would blame you. You buried your best friend yesterday, no one expects you to go to the funerals today.” He crosses his arms over his chest, his eyes silently saying to give him the word and he will whisk me away from here.
“Can’t, need to be there.” I dry my face with the towel and toss it on the counter.
He walks over and pulls me into him. “Trust me, I been to enough funerals. It’s a
ll bullshit. Life and death are all the same, with some shit mixed in between. Don’t mourn them, celebrate them instead.” He bends to kiss me but I wiggle out of his grip.
“El, no. They were my friends. How can I look at their wives, their children, knowing that I couldn’t save them? I’m alive and signed a death warrant for them? If I had just let Clay—”
El’s eyes narrow in rage. “Let Clay do what?” he barks and I flinch, cowering backward until my ass hits the sink. He stalks towards me. “Let him rape you, then fucking gut you to be splayed out on the altar of his God? All to get to me and my brother? Your life instead of theirs? Fuck them. You chose right, you chose yourself, the way it should be.”
“They had families!” I scream at him, slapping at his chest. The eyes of the Grim Reaper tattoo on his chest seem to follow me, perhaps damning my soul to hell for eternity.
“Fuck them too.” El spins around and punches the wall. Everything shakes with the impact, or perhaps that’s because of my unsteady legs.
“Fuck them? Fuck you, El.” Exhaustion of the days leading up to this overcomes me. I storm into the bedroom and search for my clothes.
I need air.
I need…
I need my friends.
I exhale a breath I didn’t realize I was holding.
Dear God, I’m so sorry for what I have done. I’m responsible for their deaths, just as I’m responsible for the death of my father and baby brother. My mother was right, I am a sinner. Always have been.
I drop to my knees as deep sobs escape my lips. The sound is foreign at first until I realize it is my wails of despair.
El is kneeling by me, pulling me into his protective arms. “Mentirosa, don’t you understand? If you had died, a part of me would’ve been buried with you.”
My mind is too wrapped up in my emotions to grasp what he is trying to tell me.
“Mentirosa, I love you.”