by Sasha Leone
“He’s not going anywhere,” Juan assures me. “No one has the resources to properly challenge him, and everybody knows it. Dante has terrorized his way into the political sphere. He either has dirt on, or a hostage from, nearly every important member of the government and military.”
“Is he more powerful than Angel was?” I don’t know why I ask it, but the question slips out of me like a wet stone.
Juan hesitates before answering. “Angel never wanted to get involved with politics. He hated the formality of it all...”
“... But he was trying to buy up legitimate property, wasn’t he?”
Juan nods. “He was, but business is different from politics. Business is a safe bet; politics is more volatile.”
“How?”
Juan pours himself another glass and draws the amber liquid up to his lips. “Well, during reasonable times, a building should stand for as long as whoever owns it wants it to.” He takes a slow sip of his drink. “In politics, no one owns anything. During reasonable times, the people vote for who they want to represent them. The people in charge usually don’t get to decide how long they stand for, and if they don’t get out of the way when they’re asked, they risk being toppled.”
“We aren’t living during reasonable times,” I mumble, my heart breaking in real time. Angel was playing it safe, and it all backfired for him.
“No, we aren’t. There’s an election coming up, but Dante’s doing his best to meddle in it. He can’t risk staying out of politics at this point, because if his candidates lose, he’s fucked. His businesses are all openly corrupt, and the second he shows even the slightest bit of weakness, his house of cards will come crumbling down on him. There’s no going legitimate for Dante; his only hope is to delegitimatize everything else.”
“How did he get so powerful so fast?”
Juan sighs, his eyes wandering off to some sad memory. “Cruelty,” he whispers. “Unfiltered cruelty... and some outside help.”
Nausea swirls around in my gut as Juan and I wallow in silence. We both know how powerless we are against Dante’s brutality, and we both know that it’s because we actually care about people other than ourselves. Maybe, if we were willing to free ourselves from love, we’d be able to topple the savage giant, but I know that neither of us could ever do such a thing. I wouldn’t give up my baby boy even if it meant putting a bullet through Dante’s thick skull.
... I’m not willing to give up on Angel so easily either.
So, we’re trapped.
“Do you want to head back now or do you want to spend some more time here?” Juan eventually asks, when his glass has been emptied.
It doesn’t take me long to make up my mind. As much as I hate being locked up in Dante’s mansion, every second I spend outside of those walls is a second that could come back to haunt me later. “I better head back.”
“Would you like me to escort you?”
The safety of having Juan by my side is tempting, but I know the last thing I need right now is company. Two sets of footsteps are always louder than one, plus I’d like some space to think. “I think I’d rather go alone.”
Juan nods and we share a quick look before I take a deep breath and head back out into the darkness.
The walk back is always longer.
Usually, it’s also lighter—the soft warm touch of my baby boy lingers on my skin long after I leave him—but this time, I spent my little slice of freedom alone, learning of just how unstoppable my captor has become.
Juan said he sensed that a storm was coming; for some reason, I feel the same thing. The air is thick and humid and every step I take feels like a trek through the ocean floor. Something has got to break and I can only hope that it’s not me.
In the distance, the light of the mansion seeps through the jungle trees, and for a split-second, I seriously consider turning around and making my final run for it. It hardly matters how far I’d get, just the act alone would give me some sense of control. But a sense of control is nothing compared to my sense of duty. I can’t leave Oscar alone in this world. Sure, Lady looks after him during the day, and Juan makes sure he’s safe, but there’s nothing like true family, true love.
I know what it’s like to lose both, and I wouldn’t wish it on anybody, let alone my baby boy. Oscar is my tether, for better or for worse, and his light gives me just enough strength to keep going.
A deep breath of jungle air rids me of my escape fantasies, and I trod back to my cage like a well-tamed tiger. This whole night was a complete bust. To think, I was so excited when I found that coded message beneath my false floorboard... I should have known better. High hopes get cut down far too easily these days, and I feel about a foot shorter every time I dare to stand on my tiptoes.
It’s almost not worth it.
Almost...
Ozzy is worth everything to me. They can cut me to pieces and I’d still fight for him. Anything to keep him safe.
“What the fuck?” The unexpected voice cuts through the air like a switchblade. I’m immediately dragged from my reverie and thrown against a tree of cold harsh reality.
My whole body tenses as I spot the source of the sound. Just off to the side of my well-trodden path are two bodyguards; their guns are angled against a stump, and they stand side by side, staring through the darkness, right at me.
The glow of a lit cigarette floats in between them like an orange firefly. They must have come out here for a smoke break.
... And I didn’t think my night could get any worse.
My immediate instinct is to run. I burst ahead and my shin instantly catches on an upturned root. I hit the jungle floor like a felled tree. Pain shoots through my wrists and my knees but I have no time to linger on it. I scramble back onto my feet and push forward. Behind me, I hear my pursuers gathering.
“Hey! They’re going towards the mansion! Grab them!” My only hope is that they haven’t recognized me yet. If I can lose them, then I might be able to get back to my room before anyone notices I’m gone.
That hope quickly vanishes into thin air when I hear the familiar crackle of a radio hum alive in my wake. “We’ve got an unidentified assailant heading towards the premises... lock down.” I make a sharp left turn and the pursuing voice is lost in the leaves.
Unidentified. That’s good. They didn’t recognize me.
Lock down. That could fuck me. Any minute now, a gaggle of body guards are going to be coming into my room to secure me. If they arrive before I do, then I might never be able to make one of these journeys again. That means no more Oscar...
A sudden rush of adrenaline bursts through my veins and I shoot forward like a loose arrow. Harsh branches and spiny leaves rip against my skin as I bound through the jungle towards the light of the mansion, but I hardly feel any pain. There’s no time for pain right now. I need to get back to my room or else I risk imploding everything.
Shouts billow up from behind me and flashlights bob through the trees ahead. I make another sharp turn and nearly run face first into a trunk, but somehow, I manage to dodge it. I’ve never been so fleet footed in all my life, but I hardly have time to appreciate my newfound skill. Determination flexes through every single last centimeter of my muscles as I come up to the edge of the jungle that borders the back lawn of Dante’s mansion.
Flood lights whip across the open field that stands between me and safety. In the distance, I can see the window that I need to get into. It’s on the third floor, but three sets of balconies and a long sturdy trellis make the journey at least plausible—I’ve considered shattering my window and climbing down that path countless times before, but I never thought I’d be so desperate to climb back in.
The roar of an approaching motorcade rumbles through the air like thunder and I watch as streams of dune buggies race across the lawn ahead. Armed guards march towards the jungle border and stones of uneasiness roll around in my gut. I didn’t realize just how closely this place was being guarded. There’s practically an army out
there. No wonder Angel hasn’t come for me yet. Who the hell could get through all that?
You.
I don’t have much of a choice. My worst fears are on the brink of being realized. Either I slip back into my room unnoticed, or else...
As the heavily armed guards approach and sirens wail and search lights burn up the dark lawn, my pulse slows. This is for Oscar. I need to succeed for him; there isn’t any other option.
A final deep breath fills my lungs as I wait for the flood lights ahead to criss cross. A small dark opening presents itself before me and I take it, lunging out from behind my jungle cover like a bullet.
Blood rushes to my ears and the outside world goes silent as I race towards the leafy trellis that I’ll use as my makeshift ladder. My racing heart sets the pace for my scrambling feet, but with every step, the wall I need to reach seems to stretch further and further away.
There’s no stopping, though. I keep chugging, oblivious to everything else—if anyone sees me, I don’t notice it...
Suddenly, I’m at the base of the wall. A quick glance behind me shows that I haven’t been followed. The flood lights don’t reach this area, and all the cars and the guns are focused on the jungle.
My hands find the first rung of the trellis. The wood is warm and damp, but I don’t bother testing its sturdiness. There’s no time to waste. I’m up on the precariously set wood before I can talk myself out of it. The blood rushes from my ears the higher I climb, and by the time I’m at the second-floor balcony I can hear all of the orders being barked out in the distance. None of them seem directed at me, but I’m not out of the woods yet.
Sharp stems and horny vines tears at my skin as I make my last push. Adrenaline masks any pain, but there’s no hiding the blood. Dark stains follow me up the trellis until I’m close enough to the third-floor balcony to reach out and touch it...
The second I transfer my weight from the trellis to the balcony, the chunk of stone under my palm cracks and splits. I stifle my scream as it collapses beneath my weight and I fall.
I have to stifle another scream when my arm gets caught in a thorny vine that juts out from the side of the trellis. Crumbling stone falls to the dark lawn below. My feet swing in the open air. For what seems like an eternity, I can’t breathe. The only part of my body that seems to work is my hearing. My ears twitch as I listen for the worst...
But nothing changes.
Men still bark orders in the distance, flood lights still search the lawn; all traffic is directed towards the jungle.
Slowly, I pull myself back onto the trellis. This time, there’s no masking the pain. I grimace with every movement, but I can’t stop, I won’t stop.
My eyes close and when I open them back up, I’m by the third-floor balcony again. Now, though, there’s a convenient hole for me to jump through. I make the fateful leap and a shockwave of agony ripples up from my shins as I land on solid ground.
There’s no time to relish in my small victory or give into my large amount of pain. I pull myself back onto my feet and peer through the window.
The bedroom is dark and empty, just as I left it. Relief washes over my strained nerves... only to evaporate seconds later at the thought of just how the fuck I’m going to get inside.
The window is always locked...
But maybe it’s locked from the outside? I desperately search for a bolt or a clasp or a latch or anything, but it’s too dark and I can’t make anything out.
My brain starts to pound with panic as I realize that I may have just crawled back to my cage for no reason. I’m going to get caught...
Before I can fall too far into my pit of ever-growing despair, my hopeless gaze falls on the hole I created in the side of the balcony. The rubble is so obvious that it will be the first thing people spot in the morning. What kind of cheap shit is this paper mansion made of!?
My despair gives way to a quick bout of anger. I want to try the window pane with my fists, but I know that will only kill me quicker. The glass will shred my wrists and I’ll leave my child motherless.
I’m such a failure...
The anger won’t let me give up, though. I need to smash something, even if it means the death of me. Before I can pull a punch at my window, though, I spot a thick stone in the corner of the crumbled balcony.
My heart leaps with an ounce of hope. I lunge for it, taking the big piece of rubble in my hand and raising it above my head. With every last bit of strength in my failing body I throw it at my bedroom window...
And it immediately bounces back, smacking me in the chest and throwing me against the far end of the balcony. The wind rushes from my lungs and I struggle to catch my breath for what seems like an eternity.
Slowly, air drifts back down my throat... and something else comes with it.
Not despair; not hopelessness; not exhaustion.
Fire.
Anger.
Fury.
Fuck this scene. I am not going out like this. The loose stone that bounced off the window is back in my fist before I can think better of it. My first attempt might have bounced right back at me, but it at least left the window cracked. I wack the stone right in the middle of that crack and the glass splinters a little bit more.
Tears of rage and desperation blur my vision as I pound the stubborn window with all my might. I don’t care that I’m being loud; I don’t care that I’m probably going to get caught; I just don’t care. I need to break something, or else I might shatter myself.
Without warning, the window explodes in a flurry of broken glass. I fall through the opening, dropping the stone on the balcony outside before I hit the carpet inside. Sharp shards rain down over my exhausted body, but I’m too tired to move. I let them wash over me...
Before I can give in to my exhaustion, the exceedingly loud sound of my bedroom door being unbolted rattles through my brain.
Fuck. What am I going to say? I didn’t come all this way for nothing...
“What the hell!?” A gruff voice fills the room and I try to push myself off the ground. Heavy footsteps rush to my side and I’m pulled up onto my feet.
“Why the fuck wasn’t she checked on earlier!?” someone roars.
“We were waiting outside, boss! We didn’t think anyone could get in!”
“You fucking idiots!”
I’m hardly paying attention; my only struggle is to stay conscious. I feel the blood dripping down my skin, my eyelids are so heavy...
A rough hand gently slaps against my cheek. “What happened?” I don’t look up, but I know the question is directed at me. My mind is empty of excuses. “What happened!?” A big hand squeezes my jaw and forces my gaze up to a red-faced guard. His eyes are wide with desperate anger. It’s no secret that I’m Dante’s prized hostage, if something happens to me, there’s going to be hell to pay. “What the fuck happened!?”
Suddenly, a lie pops into my drained mind. “I was watching... out of the window... someone threw... a stone... the glass shattered... I... I...” I’m not quite ready to pass out yet, but this bully doesn’t know it. I close my eyes and let my head go limp.
The guard seems to accept my fib. He gets out of my face and I hear him storm over to the window. “Lock this place down. Now!”
His words hardly hit my ears. My empty mind is suddenly filled with thoughts of what just happened.
I just broke back into my prison.
I don’t feel accomplished or relieved. In fact, the only emotion that runs through my charred veins is a surprise mixture of anger and frustration.
I broke into this place all on my own... so what the fuck is Angel’s excuse? If I can get through all of that, then why the fuck hasn’t he been able to!?
He must have given up on me. He must not care...
It’s the last thought in my mind before I pass out.
6
Angel
The sun sets over the countryside in a brilliant display of golden light.
I have no time to appreciate it. I
’m in a rush to pay my old friend a visit. Juan Arias. The traitor. Karma’s about to catch up to the son-of-a-bitch, and it’s going to run over him in the form of my clenched fists.
Mendoza talked. It took some convincing, but he spilled his guts before I spilled his brains out over that Arabian carpet of his.
Oh, how much I learned... but there’s still so much more to know, and Juan is the man who’s going to tell it all to me.
Apparently, he’s been living in his own mini-compound out in the countryside. Mendoza insisted that he didn’t know the address, but his phone told a different story—I just had to unlock it with his severed thumb first.
A heavy wind sways the trees alongside the road as I turn down a small side path just a few hundred yards away from where Juan is supposed to be staying. The traitor is still working for Dante, but apparently my little brother doesn’t much like the sight of him; so, the consigliere does most of his work on the ground, or out here, where no one can bother him.
Well, I’m about to do a little more than just bother him.
I stash my car under a hail of bushes and jungle leaves and make up the remaining distance on my feet. Juan’s smart, and I have little doubt that his residence will be just as heavily guarded as anything involving Dante. That’s why it took me two days to prepare for this invasion. I gave Jesus Medina and his country boys a call and told them how to set-up a distraction just outside of my intended destination. They’re due to light some fireworks any minute now, and hopefully it will give me enough space to slip through Juan’s defences with all my gear.
You see, I know Juan. He’s not going to talk as easy as Mendoza or any regular street tough. He’s been in this game too long to give up now. I’ll have to be convincing, and that means pulling out all the stops. In my backpack, I’ve got tools that never fail to make grown men whimper like little girls, and they’re stashed right beside jumper cables that could make a mute talk.