by Karina Halle
I couldn’t believe what had just happened. How weak I had been to commit adultery, and with Esteban no less. How foolish and stupid I was to take such a dumb chance. I had a good life. Maybe I didn’t have love anymore, or sex without having to practically beg for it, and maybe my husband was a totally different person. But I had money and security.
But it was amazing how little money and security mattered in the long run when your own heart wasn’t being loved.
I had no illusions about Esteban loving me. I knew he didn’t. I knew that he might hold some affection for me and that perhaps his attraction to me was based more on one-upping Javier, having what he had, that envy he felt for his boss.
I also had no illusions about loving Esteban. I didn’t. I didn’t even know if I liked him. But he had been there out in the desert, and he knew what I had needed before I did.
The fact was, I still loved Javier even though it was futile and painful to do so. I was also sure that a part of my own heart was breaking over what I had just done. But despite that, I also knew that I would eventually come to terms with it. And one day I’d be forced to make another choice: to make peace with my life the way it was.
Or to do it again.
I was too afraid of what my answer would be.
When I got closer to the house though, the guilt and dirt I felt on my soul waned a bit. Because there were cars parked outside, and from somewhere in the house I heard a girlish giggle.
I carefully walked down the porch, my footsteps heavy from the boots, and went into the kitchen. Evelyn looked up at me in concern.
“Luisa, what happened?” She quickly put a plate away then scurried over to me.
“It’s fine,” I said, surprised at how calm I suddenly felt. “I was following the horses and I slipped on the hill, tumbled for a bit. I’m okay. Just embarrassed.”
She didn’t seem to believe me so I deftly changed the subject. “Who came in the cars? I thought I heard a female laugh.”
Evelyn looked grave. “You know how boys are,” she said. “They wanted company.”
I gave her a stiff smile. “I’m going to go shower. I might skip lunch if that’s okay with you.”
She nodded, seeming to understand.
As I went down the hall, I heard the laughter again. Two girls now. Thankfully they weren’t coming from Javier’s room but someone else’s. I quickly went into my small bedroom, locked the door, and went into the bathroom. I avoided my reflection in the mirror and stripped, then got in the shower.
I couldn’t get the water hot enough. I turned it hotter and hotter, until the air filled with steam and I was sure it was scalding me.
But still, I felt like I couldn’t get clean.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Esteban
Esteban watched as Luisa climbed up the hill and out of his sight. Though she didn’t know it yet, she really did look like she’d been ravaged. It pleased him to no end to know that it was all because of him. That he finally had done it. And even though fucking her was a means to an end, it wasn’t half bad.
Actually, Luisa was better than he had expected. Sure, she wasn’t wild, but he hadn’t really given her much choice out here. And she protested, which he liked the most. In some ways he wanted her to really fight back. The fact that she hadn’t meant that she’d been thinking about him, needing a good roll in the hay, something he’d only hoped for once.
In time, because they would do this again and again, it would become too much for her. It sickened him to think that Javier had probably screwed her six kinky ways from Sunday, with all his affinity for ropes and knives and asphyxiation. Because of that, Luisa was a hardened champ when it came to pushing boundaries and limits. But eventually Esteban would take it too far, and he relished the moment she became afraid of him, the moment she’d ask him to stop and he wouldn’t.
That would be the moment Luisa realized how truly fucked she was. Because then he would hold all the power. She’d be his dirty queen and she’d get even dirtier, because he’d probably make her sleep with the pigs at that point. He saw it in her face, that former beauty queen, the girl who was a twenty-three-year-old virgin with loving parents and a moral outlook on life. She thought she was above scum like Esteban. Hell, she felt things like guilt. He didn’t even know what guilt felt like.
He couldn’t wait to wipe that smug, righteous look from her beautiful face and make her uglier, inside and out, day by day. It was what got him out of bed in the morning. That, and the look on Javier’s face when he realized how much he had underestimated him. The look on his face when he saw how everything else had been taken away.
Oh, Luisa was playing into his plans so well. He hadn’t counted on her still smarting over Javier’s infidelities, but the woman felt far too much. In that respect alone, she would never cut it as a true narco queen. The real queens of the country knew to turn a blind eye to their husband’s affairs. It was just the price you paid for being married to a patron. Everybody knew it.
But Luisa, she hurt and bled over it. She had a soul and a heart that were so woefully out of place, but at least they made her gullible and easier to mold. She believed everything that Esteban told her about her own husband. She ate up every lie that came out of his mouth.
It was genius of him to mention the whores that had been driven in. The women weren’t for Javier, though, not this time. They were for Borrero, Artur, and whomever else. Maybe even Esteban, if he felt like it. But Javier had Evaristo now, and he was in his zone and wouldn’t be distracted by women at this point. He was terribly single-minded at times.
Esteban had wanted Luisa to believe the opposite and so she did. And that led her right to him, aching and vulnerable.
The sound of hoof beats came from behind him, and Esteban turned around to see the dapple grey stallion that had enraptured Luisa so much. For no real reason other than an extremely misplaced sense of jealousy, Esteban hated that damn horse even though it had, in some ways, helped with the plan.
The horse stared at him cautiously, and Esteban fancied he could almost see the wheels turning in its head, trying to decide if he was friend or foe.
“If I had a knife on me, I’d slit your throat right now,” Esteban said to the horse. He wasn’t joking either. Killing animals meant nothing to him. It had probably all started when he was ten years old and tied his neighbor’s beloved dog to their truck and watched as the owner, unaware, dragged the animal to its death. Esteban laughed at the horror of it all and felt thrilled that he, just a little boy, had the power to end a life so easily.
He would do it again and again.
Later, the puppies and cats and rabbits, they would become people. And it felt even better.
The horse seemed to decide Esteban was a foe after all. He snorted once and then took off at a trot, leaving Esteban behind. He had the brief fantasy of finding it later, slicing its head off, and delivering it to Luisa, blaming it on Javier. It was a little too Godfather-esque for Esteban’s tastes but he thought it might be fitting.
He watched the horse go and then slowly headed back up the hill, toward the ranch. He knew he had to keep it casual between Luisa and himself for the next day or two, to give her space and time to realize that what she wanted was him. But he couldn’t let it go too long. He had a schedule to keep, and it all depended on the man in the tunnel. The longer he could hold out, the better. He could only hope the agent was stubborn as all hell, and that Javier took his time. That was one thing he could count on. Javier didn’t like to rush. He enjoyed the art of it all.
What a sick fuck.
***
Though it was hard to practice patience, a virtue Esteban never had in spades, he did what he could to keep Luisa at bay. It wasn’t that hard. She was staying away from him. She wouldn’t even look at him. He didn’t know if it was out of guilt or the fear that Javier would see something in her eyes.
But of course Javier never saw anything because Javier was rarely seen above ground. He spent most of the
day in the tunnel with Evaristo. Esteban only went down once or twice, to deliver news about a shipment to Javier or something else of importance — far from Evaristo’s ears of course — and sometimes he caught Javier at breakfast before he went on his morning run across the desert.
Other than that though, Javier was caught up in his obsession. He didn’t suspect a thing, and to Esteban’s relief, he was taking things with Evaristo slowly. He was still using the battery pack, and Evaristo wasn’t talking, but Javier was in no hurry to brutalize him beyond mercy. This was a day by day event that consumed the patron.
One evening after a dinner of Evelyn’s heavenly nopales and chicken stew, Luisa got up and headed out into the desert on her evening walk. Esteban knew now was the time to strike.
He waited and then followed her out there as she climbed into the horse pasture. All the animals were out of sight so she kept going. He was glad he had brought his knife this time.
She went down into the wash but then headed up out of it and to a ridge, disappearing behind clumps of yucca and agave.
When he found her, she was sitting on a bunch of smooth boulders and staring off into the distance. If you squinted beyond the mirage of sun shimmer, you could see the faint line of the highway. Other than that, it was desolation.
She knew he had been following her. She didn’t turn around or even flinch when she heard him call her name.
She knew and she had been waiting. This was what Esteban had wanted.
They didn’t talk much. She held a world of sadness in her big eyes, but anger too, and it was the anger that fueled her. Esteban didn’t even need to add anything to that fire.
He sat down on the rock and unzipped his shorts. He pulled her on top of him, and she was ready to go.
They fucked like that in the desert, the sun searing their shoulders and the wide open spaces around them swallowing their cries.
Esteban didn’t think it was as good as last time, maybe because she wanted it and was wet and willing. There was no pain and no blood. But he saw the pain inside her, and that alone was enough to make him come.
Later, he’d pull Juanito into his room and inflict the pain on him that he couldn’t inflict on her. Juanito took it like a champion and Esteban made false promises that he wouldn’t do it again as long as Juanito behaved.
Then he was back to Luisa, hauling her out under the moon and pushing her to the dirt.
They carried on like that for a week.
One full week out in the middle of nowhere. Fucking in the dry earth, amidst the snakes and scorpions and other horrible, dangerous creatures, just like themselves. All the while, underneath that same earth, Javier worked away on Evaristo, wanting answers.
He’ll get them soon enough, Esteban thought to himself.
The clock was ticking.
CHAPTER NINE
Javier
“Are you ready to talk?” I asked Evaristo calmly. I was sitting in my usual chair in the corner, running a file over my nails. They were getting awfully damaged over the work of last week. Torture would do that to you. Sometimes it was as hard on me as it was on them.
Not that I was being too hard on the federale. I had been taking it slow and easy, warming him up. But now, now I felt as if I had been far too nice to him. The agent wasn’t talking, he wasn’t even close to it, and I had to step it up a notch.
He’d been trained almost too well, and he was as stubborn as fuck. He could take the voltage and not talk, even when applied to the bottoms of his feet. His dick was a last resort, but there was something crude about shocking the genitals. Not to mention they often shit a brick after, and I sure as hell didn’t want anything other than piss and blood around here.
I would prefer to remove a finger or toe with a thin, jagged saw rather than shock him there. But before I would even consider that, I’d apply some heat.
“Evaristo,” I said, louder now. My voice echoed down the tunnel. I was starting to feel like a snake, like this was my burrow, my new home. The few times I had gone outside here I was almost blinded by the sun.
Evaristo, still naked, always naked, turned to look at me. He was always silent. I really admired him for that. He had no reason to put up such a front with me. After all, the information had nothing to do with him or his organization. I tried to reason with him, to tell him that my taking out Angel would only help them. One less narco. But he wouldn’t have it. He didn’t speak — at least, he didn’t give me information — because his loyalty and sense of righteousness was that strong.
But he would break. I could see it in his eyes. He was tired. Weary. And I was starting to make the other side look good.
I eyed Diego who was leaning against the dirt wall. Borrero and Morales were elsewhere, perhaps partaking in the women in the house. I had no interest in that anymore. All my rage and violence was getting a daily outlet now.
“Let’s see, what might give our young friend here some … motivation?” I said to Diego. “Do you have a lighter?”
He nodded and tossed one to me which I caught in one hand. Diego brought a small can of gasoline out from beside the toolbox and found the t-shirt Evaristo must have been wearing when he was brought in. He dumped the gas on the shirt, soaking it through.
“Why are you spending so much time with me?” Evaristo asked, his voice hoarse yet somehow strong.
I cocked my head at him. “Because you’re being a pain in the ass. Do you really think you’re going to win any favors with your peers because you held out long enough? Does it matter when you’re going to give in, in the end?”
He shrugged even though the movement made him wince. I walked over to him, flicking the lighter as I went.
“I don’t care what my peers think,” he said.
“Oh, is that so? I totally would have pegged you for a brownnoser from the way you’re holding out on me. I figured back at work you’re nothing better than a dog with its nose up someone else’s shithole, taking whatever comes your way.”
“Then you don’t know me at all.”
“I think I know enough of you,” I told him. “You want to be looked at as a hero. A self-righteous little prick and example for all the damned federales.”
“Maybe,” he said, eyeing me. “Maybe I don’t give a flying fuck about them. Maybe I’m trying to see what you are made of.”
I exchanged a look with Diego. He lifted up the soaked shirt, ready to follow through. We both knew it got dangerous when the captor got too personal. I couldn’t help but be fascinated though. I subtly shook my head at Diego to keep him on standby.
“You should know what I’m made of,” I told Evaristo as I crouched down beside him. I flicked the lighter on and pressed it into his thigh. “Sugar and spice and everything nice.” He began to sweat and his skin started to burn beneath the flame. “Or is it worms and snails and puppy dog tails? Yes, I suppose the last one suits me better.”
He clamped his eyes shut, face contorted in pain until I took the lighter away.
“So tell me, why do you want to know what I’m made of?” I asked him.
He didn’t open his eyes. He breathed in and out harshly before he said, “You said you’re going to let me go. I’m going to make sure that I know who I’m dealing with in the future.”
I laughed. “I gave you my word and this is the thanks I get. Well, go ahead and tell your boss all about me, I’m sure he’ll be impressed. More by me than the fact you got this information.”
“Maybe it wouldn’t be for my boss,” Evaristo said. “And just for my own knowledge.”
I really didn’t know what this kid was getting at now, but I had a feeling he was just trying to waste my time. I nodded at Diego who came over and manhandled Evaristo, undoing the ties around his chest and pushing him down so that his head was between his knees. Evaristo struggled and Diego slammed his elbow into his cheekbone with a loud crack.
I winced at the brutality, knowing that it could make talking more difficult for the agent now, but didn’t s
ay anything. When Diego was done tying him in this new position, his bare back exposed, Evaristo spit out a tooth.
“You’re merciless,” he said, his words a thick jumble as blood pooled out of his mouth. “That’s good. It would be even better if you didn’t let me walk at the end.”
I couldn’t help but chew my lip for a second as I raised my brows at Diego. Was it our luck that we had kidnapped some sort of masochist? God, wouldn’t that be just a fuck in the ass.
Diego wasted no time. He threw the wet shirt across Evaristo’s back and pressed it into his skin. I walked up and flicked on the lighter, holding it inches away.
“Tell us how to get Angel Hernandez and we won’t have to do this.”
“You will have to do this,” he answered.
And so I did. I held the lighter to the shirt until it caught fire, then stepped back and watched as the flames spread along his back. Evaristo screamed and screamed until the fire naturally went out.
“That wasn’t even the bad part,” I told him as he gasped for breath, sweat dripping off his face and mixing with the blood on the ground. “Do you want to talk before that?”
He groaned, panting, but managed to say, “You think I don’t know this game? You’ll have to do it anyway.”
He was right about that. Only a fool would think it was over at this point.
“Fair enough,” I said. I grabbed the edge of the charred t-shirt that was now seared to his skin and ripped it right off. It took a layer of burned flesh with it.
Evaristo’s screams were deafening and seemed to go on forever. I didn’t feel anything but hope. Hope that when he calmed down, maybe he would finally talk. This was starting to become something of a chore, and if he was a masochist, that was going to take most of the fun out of it.
But every masochist has a breaking point. I wondered how much of a sadist I’d have to be to find it.
I didn’t want to do the burn method again. The chance that he could go into shock was too high, and generally most people died after the third try. By then the internal organs are fried.