Chapter 11
ELEVEN
PRESENT DAY
I woke, sandwiched between Antonio and Carlos, draped across Carlos’ lap. I knew this because his new belt buckle was poking into my cheek.
I was still dressed, thank god , but was missing my shoes and purse. Fortunately, they hadn’t discovered the knife sewn into my dress.
I pretended to still be out of it, while I listened to what was going on around me.
"Why the fuck are we bringing her here?” I heard Carlos ask. “It’s only asking for trouble.”
"When he's done with her, she won't even know where she is. Besides, she doesn't have any loyalty to the Kings, otherwise she wouldn't have given us Benny,” Antonio answered.
“Exactly. She hasn’t picked a side, so who’s to say…”
They continued to talk but Antonio’s words drowned out anything else: when he's done with her …
He .
Who the hell was ‘he’ and what did cartel business have to do with me? I was a neutral party, careful to live under the King protection, being as useful as possible without bringing any heat on me from anywhere else. Giving them Benny was as far as I’d ever gone, and only because I was desperate.
I didn't give a shit where their warehouse was.
All I wanted was information to destroy Knight, and then I would take my ass away from this dirty city. Once I was gone, the cartel and the Kings could kill each other over this shitty place, for all I cared. I fully intended to live the rest of my life sipping margaritas on some white, sandy beach that the world had forgotten about.
Once Knight was dead.
Or, that was supposed to be the plan, anyway. The pact that I’d made with Rook years ago, and one that I was finding much more difficult to carry out than I expected.
However, telling these guys my life goals meant nothing to these men. Despite the somewhat friendly relationship I had with Antonio and Carlos, we didn’t trust each other. And they certainly would never choose me over one of their bosses.
Whatever was in store for me was going to be dangerous. The Mendozas didn’t bring you in for cocktails and shrimp.
Or margaritas and tamales, for that matter.
All that mattered now was staying alive, and discovering the identity of this mysterious man.
As the car slowed and came to a stop, there was a rushing, roaring sound in my ears as my heart pounded, adrenaline firing through my system. I held as still as possible, trying to keep my breathing calm and even.
As they began to jostle me, pulling me from the car and carrying me between them, I discreetly slid out my knife.
I held it loosely in my hand, allowing them to carry the full weight of my body. Squinting, I could see the white SUV we'd just exited, and another man lagging behind them, probably the driver. We were in a large gravel parking lot, surrounded by a chain link fence. The sounds of a diesel truck were in the background, along with another man speaking Spanish, yelling at someone to drive the truck around back.
As they carried me towards a steel warehouse, big enough to house a couple small airplanes, I heard the labored breathing of Antonio and Carlos. My stomach clenched with nerves the closer we got to the door, my breathing now rapid and panicked.
I had to escape before we made it inside. Otherwise, I might not ever make it out. But I had to be calm and methodical. Panicked fighting only made you sloppy. And sloppy equaled death.
At each step towards the door, I forced myself to focus, mentally repeating the mantra Rook had taught me. I choose to be calm. I am safe because I know how to protect myself. I am in charge of my reality.
Finally, my heart rate slowed, a calm slowly infusing through me. I was focused and ready.
“You guys really need to work out more," I said before striking quickly, stabbing Carlos in the neck.
He gasped in surprise, dropping me. I used my hands to catch myself. Then I twisted my body, slamming my heel in Antonio's face.
Exhaling sharply, he let go of my feet. “Oh come on, Tatiana," he growled, grabbing his nose, which was bleeding. "Why it gotta be like this?"
Gritting my teeth, I slammed my heel into his junk, hard.
He grunted, a low, pained noise. Then he fell to his knees, his hands on his nose going to his groin.
Carlos pulled the knife from his neck, tossing it the ground, roaring. “Puta madre!”
His mistake.
Grabbing it, I scrambled to my feet. I barely even felt the harsh rocks of the gravel lot digging into my skin. I slammed it into his neck again.
“Fuck!" he screamed. His face was pale, his expression anguished. He swayed and his hand went to his neck, clasping it tight. He fell to his knees.
Hands gripped my ankle, yanking. I fell on my ass, my breath leaving my lungs with a shocked huff. Pain shot through me but the feel of the cold end of a gun made me still.
The driver of the car loomed over me, pressing a gun to my cheek. "Get up, bitch. And don't try anything, or I'll shoot your fucking brain from your cabeza ."
“He said not to kill her," Antonio hissed, ripping off his shirt and pressing it to Carlos' bleeding wound.
"You think I give a fuck? If it's my life or hers, I'll take my chances with the boss."
I used the distraction to grab the gun straight from his hands, a move I'd practiced for several years with Rook. I didn’t hesitate, shooting him in the chest. "Looks like it's going to be yours."
The driver stumbled back, his mouth open in shock. His hand went to his chest, his shirt immediately soaked with his blood.
I didn't wait for anyone to react. I aimed for his face.
It took me two shots to hit it, and he fell to ground, dead.
"Damn, Tatiana! What the fuck!" Antonio screamed. He was still next to Carlos, who was now sitting down. Grabbing Carlos’ hand, he pressed it to the wound at Carlos’ neck.
I stood, pointing the gun at him. He got up, staring me down. “You’re making things worse for you. He won’t like it that you’ve killed Jose.”
“Who is ‘he’?” I asked. “Who told you to take me?”
“You know I can’t tell you that.”
I leveled the gun at his face, "Give me the keys."
"I don't have them," he pointed to the driver. "He does."
Keeping a keen eye on both Antonio and Carlos, I searched the driver’s pockets until I found them. As soon as I had them, I backed towards the SUV. "If you let me go nicely, I won’t kill you.”
Antonio shook his head. “He’ll kill me, and he’d take it slow."
I knew it was stupid, but I didn’t want to kill Antonio.
If I shot him in the stomach, he'd have an excuse for letting me escape.
Still moving backwards, I aimed for his belly. Shooting him there would change his life forever, but at least he wouldn't die.
"Sorry about this,” I said, then pulled the trigger. It clicked, but didn't go off.
Shit .
I tried again and again, but the chamber was empty. I was out of bullets.
Antonio's face darkened and he pulled out his own gun, making sure to keep his distance from me.
"Put down that gun and walk inside the warehouse."
"I'm not going anywhere.” I scoffed, steps from the SUV now. “You can't kill me."
"That doesn't mean I can't hurt you. He doesn’t care what we do to you, as long as you're still alive."
"Who the hell is he ?" I yelled, knowing he wouldn’t tell me, but frustration got the better of me. “Who the fuck is this guy? I haven’t done anything to warrant this.”
Antonio shook his head, stepping towards me. "Get inside, or I'll have to hurt you."
"No."
"Tatiana, Jose was always bad about keeping his gun stocked, but I take care of my guns. I know exactly how many bullets I have left."
I tilted my head, curious. "How many?"
“Thirteen.” he said, certain. At least two missing bullets.
Fuck, he was serious.
I heard pounding footsteps behind me, and, glancing behind me, I saw three men running towards me.
Shit . I had to get out of here. Now.
Turning, I scrambled towards the car and Antonio's gun went off. Pain lanced through my shoulder and I bit down on it, hissing. I got to the SUV door and threw it open. I jumped into the driver’s seat, slamming and locking the door.
Searching through the keys, I found one that looked like the SUV. Just as I shoved it into the ignition, Antonio’s face appeared at the window.
I turned the key, and the engine roared. The car door jerked open and I gasped in surprise. His hand clamped on my arm, dragging me out, dangling his copy of the keys in my face, the bastard.
I kicked him in the stomach, then tried again for the groin but we were quickly surrounded. Men piled in from all sides. The passenger seat, behind Antonio, the back seat.
It took several of them to get to me, and I punched and kicked as many as I could. I tried everything I could to get away but there were too many of them.
Then Antonio was over me, a determined look on his face. He shook his head. “I didn’t want it to be like this, Tatiana. Just remember you forced me.”
Arms held me down as he plunged another needle into me. The darkness rushed over me quickly this time, and I was out.
* * *
The world around me was a haze of movement. I was in an unfamiliar room, on a dirty, bare mattress on a concrete floor. Light filtered through a large rolling door, where a brown, diesel pickup truck sat, blaring Banda music.
The man sitting in the truck, with a thick, black mustache spoke to a woman standing outside it. She was wearing a skin-tight pink and purple flowered dress, with an AR-15 slung around her back. She leaned in to kiss him and his hand reached out the window to grab her ass.
A knuckle ran down my cheek, a hot breath washing over my cheek, “Hey, little pajarita . Remember me?”
The familiar nickname, little bird, should’ve sent a jolt of fear through me, but instead I could only blink lazily.
I sighed, not looking at the mirage, feeling happier than I'd felt in a long time.
Not since coming to Vegas, and not since before my parents were killed.
For once, the thoughts that plagued my mind were silent.
"Whadda want?" my voice was slurred. "You know what, I don't even care. You're dead."
There was a low chuckle. "I'll never be dead, pajarita . You'll never escape me."
I swayed to the music playing in the background. "You always thought highly of yourself, until I slashed your throat." I laughed, remembering that moment. "That was the best day of my life." I frowned. "Oh, is that why you're here?"
His murmured response blended into the background because I didn't care why he was here. I was just happy to be back in this place. Floating on clouds, wrapped in a warm hug. Shit, wasn’t life so beautiful?
I gasped, my mind suddenly alive to the world around me. My heart was racing, but the oxygen through my lungs felt like fire and ice and sweet, sweet heaven.
The air smelled of chemicals and burned aluminum. The Banda music still played, its sound echoing through my ears like cymbals clashing. …Pero la puerta no es la culpable. Que tu por dentro estés llorando…
All around me, people moved like ants on a hill. Cluttered tabletops, filled with glass vials, plastic cups, and silver tanks lined the floor. There was trash everywhere, paper plates with white and red coloring littered the ground, along with empty beer and Mountain Dew bottles.
I felt everything in that moment.
My blood rushing, my heart pounding.
Goosebumps across my skin.
Cramping in my stomach.
Hands clenching my arms, Antonio’s concerned face hovering over mine.
I was still on this mattress, and suddenly the peace I'd felt before was gone, replaced with a panic.
Antonio took a step back and my eyes fell to the Narcan in his hands.
What. The. Fuck.
I swallowed down the nausea lurching in my throat. Narcan?
"Did I die?" I asked, unable to hide the rage in my voice. I was so angry, my whole body was shaking. Ignoring the rest of the men surrounding me, I gripped his shirt, shaking him. "Did you fucking overdose me?”
"That's what he wants."
"Who?" I shook him, screaming. "Who wants me dead?”
Antonio shook his head. "He doesn't want you dead. He wants you to know what it feels like, to die and come back to life, but hate it that you're alive."
"What?!" I released his shirt, falling backward. "What are you talking about?"
“ Who ,” Antonio corrected. “You know who.”
What the hell was he talking about?
Another man walked up to Antonio, with thick eyebrows and a goatee. “He wants her to take another dose."
"It's too soon," Antonio answered.
"It doesn't matter," ugly goatee man held out his hand. In it was a needle with a brown liquid.
I scrambled backward, shaking. "No. You can't do this to me. I've been clean for years."
"Sorry," Antonio kneeled on the mattress, jerking his head towards me. Three other men joined him, including goatee man. I thrashed, screaming, throwing punches and kicking. "I have to do it."
They held me down as Antonio wrapped my arm, then inserted the needle under my skin, shooting heroin into my system.
A warmth washed over me and I was immediately cocooned with happiness. I smiled, relaxing against goatee man, who was still holding me.
"Fuck, that's dope," he slid his hand up my thigh, pulling my dress up with it.
"Get your fucking hands off her, you cunt," Antonio spit out.
The man let go of me, pushing me onto the mattress and raising his hands. “A’ight man. No need to get pissy over pussy."
Antonio jerked his head, arguing with him but I wasn't paying attention any longer. I was lost to the lightness around me, smiling as I buried my face into the mattress, no longer concerned with them.