Hiding

by N. M. Catalano

  I’d decided to storm out instead.

  I follow the bus with my gaze as it parks in the same place.

  “Yeah, it just pulled in,” my tone is calm belying all the fury boiling inside me.

  “What are you waiting for, son, get the damn camera and start shooting,” he bellows over the phone.

  “Fine,” I mutter and hang up.

  As I grab the camera, the bus door opens and Pedro comes out. My grip tightens around the piece of equipment in my hands.

  “Come on, you piece of shit,” I quietly say as I bring the camera to my face and absent mindedly click pictures while I watch the people descend from the old yellow vehicle through the screen.

  Finally, the same young girl stumbles down the steps. This time she’s swiping the back of her hand across her mouth. I zoom in and can see the streaks of tears down her cheeks.

  “I’m going to cut your fucking dick off,” I growl.

  There he is, Ivan.

  My whole body coils, ready to strike.

  He stops at the bottom of the steps and glances around, appearing to look for something. Or someone.

  I stare at him, jaw clenched, hands gripping the camera.

  His casual perusal stops on my car. And me. A slow smile lifts his lips.

  “Looking for me?” I sneer.

  His eyes never leaving me, he begins to walk across the parking lot and approaches my car. Very nonchalantly, like they’ve got a bus full of girl scouts and not slaves.

  “That’s right, come on,” it’s a rumble. Like the first sounds of a maddening avalanche right before its annihilation of everything in its way.

  I return the camera to the seat next to me. I keep my posture relaxed, one hand on the steering wheel, the other resting on my lap. The gun’s still there, as if it’s forgotten. It’s not, but it’s not what I want. I don’t want to shoot him. I want to sink the knife in his fucking throat and twist it. I want to listen to him gurgle and choke as I watch his blood pour out of him, feel it’s warm stickiness coat my hands as I look into his eyes while he dies.

  He’s now got a full blown smile on his face and is about ten feet away from my car. I smile back and dip my head at him in a slight nod, acknowledging him.

  With each of his steps, I’m envisioning killing him.

  One step.

  Slice his throat.

  Another.

  Gut him and watch his intestines spill out of him in a heap at my feet.

  Another step.

  Peel the skin from his body then burn him alive.

  I wonder if he knows I know who he is.

  My grin broadens.

  To anyone watching, we would appear to be two friends running into each other. Maybe we are. Not many people have a link like we do, I killed his brother, he put mine in a coma. That’s one hell of a bond. We’re connected by blood, Isabelle’s, Jesúses, and his brother’s. I find myself laughing at the ridiculousness of it all. His eyebrows raise at me as his smile now shows his teeth in a full grin. I lower the window when he’s a couple of steps away. When he reaches me, he bends slightly, leans an arm on the roof of my car and peers at me through the opening.

  “What’s up, hermano?” he asks.

  I move my head side to side, my grin dipping down at the corners, “Just another day.”

  He gives the car a sweeping look from front to back. “Nice ride they give you. What’s it top off at?”

  “It’ll do. About one fifty,” I reply casually. “I don’t have too much need for that, though.”

  He nods, still smirking. “Shame. It seems like a sin to let all that power go to waste.” He glints his eyes at me with an unsaid message.

  “Nothing is ever wasted,” I comment, my tone low.

  He laughs again.

  I wait. He’s got something to say, and so do I. I just can’t tell him what I want to. At least not yet. That I enjoyed killing his brother, whichever fucking one he was. They killed Isabelle, he wants to do the same thing to Maria, of this I have no doubt.

  I’m going to enjoy killing him too.

  “It seems like you’re one of a kind down here, Officer Santiago,” the compliment is a dagger held in a velvet glove.

  “Ah, so you do know my name. It’s Detective Santiago.”

  I can hear him strumming his fingertips on the roof of the car.

  “Yeah, I know who you are.” Outwardly, he gives no reaction to the fact I’m not surprised he knows who I am. He looks pleased as a matter of fact, at least to any Joe on the street it looks that way. Not to me. There was a flash of frustration in his eyes. I just took away a piece of his power, one of his ways to intimidate me, or so he thinks.

  He has no clue.

  I can’t resist pissing him off. I look at the busload of people now entering the superstore. “The last girl who came out, it seems someone’s been giving her a hard time.” I look back into his soulless eyes. “Must be some fucking coward.”

  His expression morphs from sick sadistic satisfaction to just barely held anger. There’s a furious glimmer in his eye as he works his jaw, and I can practically hear the wheels turning in his morbid mind.

  The look I give him tells him I know she just finished sucking him off.

  He’s the goddam coward.

  “She’s a puta like the rest of them,” he grits out between clenched teeth.

  I shrug indifferently. “She’s a kid. Only a coward takes advantage of a kid.”

  He leans in closer as he sneers at me, “How’s your girlfriend, Detective Santiago?” My fists ball, digging my nails into my palms. His pleased expression is only a few inches from my face.

  I could have him gripped by the back of his neck and my blade shoved so far in his throat, it would be coming out the back before he even knew what hit him. I wonder how fucking pleased he’d be with that.

  “Now that is one sweet piece of ass,” his words sound like a hiss. It takes every ounce of my self-control not to cut his fucking head off.

  I can feel my nostrils flare with each heavy breath I suck in.

  “How do you know her?” I have to stay calm, I have to let him incriminate himself, but it’s fucking choking me.

  He leans back, smugness on his disgusting face. “Around.” He smiles again. “Maria Reyes is a very interesting young lady.”

  Fuck! Fuck! FUCK!

  “Stay the fuck away from her,” my words are a low growl, I’m barely restraining myself.

  And he knows it.

  He stands to his full height as he throws his head back and laughs.

  “Hombre, maybe we should see which one of us she likes better.”

  I’ve got my hand wrapped tightly around the door handle. I’m this fucking close to gutting him like the pig that he is right here in this parking lot.

  “I said stay away from her,” my warning is loud and clear.

  He takes a step back as my phone rings again.

  “You’d better get that,” he lifts his chin in my direction. “It could be your boss. Wouldn’t want him to think you’re slacking on the job or anything.” He turns, but I don’t pick up the phone. I watch him, imagining cutting his heart out. I can hear his chuckle as he steps away. “Rico,” he turns to look at me over his shoulder. “I don’t know which one was prettier, Maria or the first one. What do you think?” He winks and smirks at me again.

  The only thing that kept me in the car was Maria.

  I knew if I let my demon free to massacre that son-of-a-bitch like he deserves, I’d end up in jail. I can’t protect Maria from inside a cell. Somebody else would go after her.

  I can’t let anything happen to her.

  Not like Isabelle.

  Only this time I know it would be torture.

  My goddam phone is still ringing.

  I snatch it. “What?!” I growl.

  “Get your ass to the station!” the captain barks.

  The last thing I need is to be locked inside four walls right now.

  “Why?”
r />   “Because,” he almost yells. I hear his slow intake of breath. “Because,” he begins again more calmly, “The coroner’s report came in. And Edwards wants to go over a plan he’s put together. Besides,” he pauses, “I have a feeling something happened out there today. And if you don’t get yourself in here now, you’re going to do something you’re going to regret.”

  The only thing I fucking regret is NOT doing something!

  I watch Ivan enter an empty car, different than the first one, and drive away.

  No wonder I didn’t recognize any vehicles.

  He just told me what I need to know, confirmed every single one of my suspicions. And as much as I hate it, I’m grateful.

  Now I know for sure.

  I don’t remember the drive back to the station. Everything’s a furious red blur as I pull into my parking space and take a few minutes to get my shit together.

  I’ve been debating whether or not to have Maria, her grandmother, and aunt come in and look at mugshots to get an identity on the man. Again, because technically there was no crime, it would have been a questionable thing to do, definitely not official. Ivan’s photo wouldn’t have been a part of those pictures. That’s part of the evidence in the case we’re working on. I would have had to show it to her. I’m not allowed to divulge confidential evidence. I don’t want to show it to her because she would have kept on demanding I tell her who he is.

  I definitely don’t want to do that. That would have sent her running, and if she ran, I can’t protect her.

  As I approach the captain’s office, I hear Scott. I don’t bother saying anything as I take the seat next to him in front of the captain’s desk.

  “The task force is complete and everyone will be in Monday morning,” he’s saying.

  “Good, good. And I assume you’re going to present a plan on how to proceed?” the captain asks.

  “Yes, with the coroner’s toxicology report from last night’s OD,” Scott replies, motioning with his chin to the paperwork on the captain’s desk.

  “Anything different?” I ask, finally joining the discussion.

  “Yes,” the captain responds tightly. He’s apparently not happy with it.

  Scott looks over at me. “It seems the victim had a science experiment in his system. It had heroin in it, but that shit, we’ve never seen anything like it before. He was probably dead before he even pulled the needle from his arm. It was enough to kill ten men.”

  I pause. “There was no needle found at the crime scene.” I mumble more to myself.

  The captain nods his agreement. “That’s correct.”

  “Strange, isn’t it, if someone else was there to get high, they didn’t’ suffer the same fate,” I say quietly.

  “That it is,” the captain agrees, watching me.

  “If you don’t need me,” I stand, “I’ve got some things to do.”

  The captain smiles tightly at me. “Absolutely, so long it’s not something stupid,” his look turns to a glare.

  I don’t stop at my desk; I don’t check any messages. This whole situation is a cauldron of death and destruction.

  No fucking coincidences.

  No victims of circumstance.

  Immediately Maria’s anguished expression fills my mind again and I visibly wince.

  Fuck this, I’m not waiting anymore.

  The question now is, who am I going to be? The cop? Or the demon?

  Maria

  CHAPTER 15

  I miss him so much. But I was so mad at him. So disappointed.

  Just thinking about the other day I get angry all over again. I know, I KNOW Rico was obligated to follow the law. I realize there are things he could do, and couldn’t do as an officer. A detective.

  I’m not stupid, I know the guy didn’t break any laws, especially when the fact was verbalized so clearly. It made me furious. I was enraged to know that people could do whatever they want and not be made responsible for their actions.

  Sorry you got A) offended, B) scared, C) intimidated, D) all of the above, he didn’t break any laws, even though he’s dangerous and scared the shit out of you. There’s nothing we can do.

  That’s the problem with this country, criminals get away with breaking the law because the government’s so afraid of offending some group. It’s all over, with every race and every nationality. It’s disgusting.

  I think I’m angrier at myself for how I reacted toward Rico. That’s why I haven’t taken his calls. Yes, I’m still livid. But now I know exactly what I was upset about. Still am.

  It’s the whole situation, the complete unfairness of it all, how innocent people can be victimized and not a damn thing can be done about it. How really good people pay the ultimate price, people like Rafi, while the ones responsible get away with murder.

  Literally.

  Just because some law wasn’t broken.

  And I took it out on him.

  I held him responsible.

  I feel terrible. But I’m still pissed off.

  And confused.

  And terrified.

  We all are, me, my aunt, but my grandmother? I think she’s ready to pull out a shotgun and blow his balls off.

  We didn’t know what to do, how to proceed, should we lock the doors of the restaurant and barricade ourselves at home? Hide until he finally did something and got arrested?

  That still wouldn’t take care of my original problem.

  The gang wants me.

  I came down here to hide.

  Should I run and go somewhere else?

  I could, but I don’t know anyone else, I don’t know where else I can go. If I run, I’ll be alone.

  We’d discussed me staying at home and not coming to work, hiding out there and not leaving the house.

  That was a possibility.

  There was also the possibility of him taking me from the house when I was there alone.

  We’d decided not to do anything differently.

  There’s safety in numbers, and also being exposed and in public, at times.

  The restaurant is a public place in a quiet little city where people know who their neighbors are. It seems it’s a whole lot less likely for me to be abducted from a public place than it would be from a quiet private home with no one around.

  On the outside, I look like I always have, except for those mornings I was fuck hung-over.

  Like a bitch.

  Today’s no different.

  Wait, maybe it is.

  I just might be even more of a bitch. A miserable, angry, scared fucking bitch.

  Good Lord, I’m surprised we’ve still got regular customers.

  I’m wiping down the last table for the night. As the day had worn on, the dark cloud that has been smothering me got thicker and heavier.

  I couldn’t be more depressed.

  I couldn’t be more damn angry.

  I can’t feel any more alone than I do.

  I’m on the verge of tears.

  I want to smash everything in the place.

  WHY? Why is this happening?

  “Goddammit!”

  I slam my hand down on the tabletop and hang my head, willing myself to pull it together.

  Don’t you dare fall apart now!

  I whirl around ready to snarl at the person who just walked in.

  “Rico…”

  He stalks toward me. His face is a mask of control, but beneath, under the surface I can see a storm of emotions brewing. He glides in, a perfect predator in a suit, smooth as darkness, as dangerous as death. And as soothing as his first kiss.

  “Yes, it’s me. Get your things. We’re leaving.”

  Relief.

  Indignation.

  Pure stubbornness.

  “The hell we are,” I remark, thrusting my chin up at him, daring him to try me.

  “I don’t really give a fuck how we’re doing this, kitten. You’re coming with me. It’s your choice how.”

  The term of endearment is there, right in the middle of h
is frustration.

  The closer he gets, with each pounding step my heart goes, thump, thump, thump, I can see the fatigue in his tight expression, the lines of worry etched deeply around his dark eyes.

  A sharp pang of guilt shoots through me like a lightning bolt.

  “Rico,” I begin.

  “Don’t fucking argue with me, Maria. I’m done,” he clasps my arm firmly and leads me toward the kitchen. “I am so fucking done watching you. Sick with the pain I see on your face. Sick with myself because I helped put it there.”

  He’s walking so fast; my feet are practically tripping over each other as he pulls me along.

  “Wait. What? What are you talking about?”

  “Where do you think I’ve been for the past three days, Maria? Do you think I just disappeared and forgot about you and the shit that went down here?”

  He’s pissed. Really, really pissed.

  “I don’t know,” I snap and try to yank my arm away.

  His grip tightens, and his steps only get faster.

  “I’ve been right here.”

  Yep, definitely pissed.

  “No you haven’t. “

  I lock my knees. He has to drag me the last few feet to the kitchen doors.

  “Yes I have,” he growls, pushing me through the double doors.

  “No,” I reply tightly, “I haven’t seen you.”

  “Maybe you would have if you’d have answered my goddam calls,” he bellows.

  Everything stops all around us, all eyes on us, no one moves.

  “I was upset, okay? I wasn’t ready!” I shout back.

  I did this to him, I made him angry!

  “Times up, kitten, ready or not, you’re coming with me.”

  We come to a halt inside the kitchen and he looks around. My aunt, my grandmother, all the employees are silent, watching and waiting to see what’s going to happen.

  “Where are her things? We’re leaving.”

  “I’ll show you,” my grandmother comes forward. “It’s about damn time you showed up,” she grumbles as she waddles toward the back office.