Chapter 45 Santos
SANTOS
GUILLERMO
Igrabbed the half empty bottle of tequila on my bedside table I’d been nursing all day and lifted my head just enough to take a big swig, most of it ending up on my chin and shirt.
Fuck.
I was drunker than I’d realized.
I wasn’t honestly sure where the last few days had gone either.
I needed to keep my wits about me if this was going to work the way I’d planned. I rolled my way out of bed, practically crashing to the floor that somehow ended up closer than it normally was. I could have sworn this bed was taller.
Fuck it.
Poorly constructed plans always ended up a mess, but half-cocked was better than no cocks at this point. I needed to get this ticking time bomb out of this building before it blew everyone inside up.
But which one of us was the bomb?
In a way this was all in my hands.
I could end the threat right now.
I pulled the spare Glock out of the drawer of my bedside table, releasing the safety and letting the cool metal of the heavy piece slide inside my mouth.
Would anyone really miss me? Would they actually care if I was gone?
I already felt like I’d lost everything and everyone that meant something to me.
I allowed every cynical door in my mind to open up and let the dark thoughts I normally fought back, flood out and take control.
You will never be deserving of the life you want.
Coward.
Do it!
Pressing my eyelids together tightly, I took a big exhale and squeezed the trigger.
The click of the empty chamber echoed far too loud in my silent room and shame cascaded down my entire body. A fucking assassin who can’t even kill himself.
Fucking worthless.
I pulled the empty clip out of the gun and tossed it against the wall with force, unphased as it crashed into the mirror hanging opposite my bed.
Hundreds of reflective shards spilled over the floor.
It was tempting, but the mess wasn’t appealing.
I hurled the empty gun across the room as well, letting it fall to the pile of glass.
The least I owed my brothers was a relatively clean death.
Maybe spraying my brain all over the bed wasn’t as clean as I thought it would be, but there was something about a slit wrist that just wasn’t as appealing.
I didn’t want to fade peacefully as my blood slowly drained out of me, I didn’t deserve that kind of end.
I needed the shock and the bang of a bullet splitting open my brain and taking me away from all of this.
Take me away from her.
The room was starting to spin so I quickly sat up, unsure when I’d ended up laying on the cold floor.
Instantly, I heaved out all the contents of my stomach onto the ground next to me.
It was mostly tequila anyway, I couldn’t really remember the last time I had the urge to actually eat anything.
I grabbed the bottle again and took a swig, swishing it through my gums and teeth to get the bitter taste of vomit out of my mouth.
Stumbling as I stepped over my pile of puke, I grabbed my phone and made it to my bedroom door. I pushed my way through Kane’s room and was surprised to find him alone on the bed with his new guitar this late.
Wait, was it late?
“Where is she?” I mumbled out.
“What?” He asked like he didn’t know what I’d said, stopping his strumming.
“Where is she?” I yelled this time.
“Wow, you are trashed, dude. Have you been drinking all day?” He said with that judgmental tone he got any time he saw us settling our feelings with liquor.
“What time is it?” I asked, fighting the heavy weight of my eyelids.
“Nearly two in the morning, drink some water. Go to sleep,” he instructed with a stern parental concern.
“Where…Is…She?” I said again pausing between each word to make sure they came out clearly even though I was slurring beyond my own control.
“You’ve barely said two words to her since we got her back from the Bratvas, you sure you want to see her now?” He cocked an eyebrow at me like I was an idiot.
I was.
“What, do I need your permission now to talk to her?”
He scoffed at me, “I’m not stupid álvarez, you’ve been coming into my room every night while she’s slept here.”
“And now Ronan’s made you give her back to him then?” I sneered at the thought and immediately lost my footing and fell. Kane walked over to me and grabbed the tequila bottle out of my hands before I could argue.
“No, if you’d been around at all you’d know she’s asked to stay in the guest bedroom,” he said as he made his way to his bathroom.
“Maybe if you had the balls to talk to either her or Zerkos yourself, you wouldn’t be sinking into the pit of despair you seemed to have fallen face first in.
” I could hear the sound of my Anejo being poured down a drain and I groaned in anger.
Probably for the best though.
“Get your shit together. This isn’t a good look,” he crossed his arms as he looked down on me and then used his foot to roll me out of the room. Once my body was past the threshold he shut the door on me, clicking the lock loud enough so that I’d know I wasn’t welcome.
He was right.
I’d been watching over her almost every night.
She woke up often, and she woke up screaming almost every time.
Kane slept heavily and almost never noticed except for maybe one or two times.
It started to become a habit, keeping an eye on her at night.
It’s not like I was helpful, and it’s not like she even knew I was there, but it felt like someone needed to see her this way.
This raw, fearful version of her that she didn’t let anyone else see.
It took me back to our days in the apartment, where she’d wake up from her nightmares and come to me for comfort.
I would stay up late playing video games no matter how tired I was, some nights I’d even make coffee to make sure I’d make it to her witching hour.
She’d appear in the doorway with that glazed look on her eyes and sweat drenching her hair and I knew she was lost to her past without having to ask.
She’d sit next to me, have a beer, or tell me about her dreams with her feet on my lap, and eventually, she’d fall back asleep.
It was so innocent, but even then, I knew it was more.
I was doing too much.
I was going too far for someone who wasn’t and would never be mine.
Using the wall to steady myself, I crossed the hall and grabbed my Glock off the floor, brushing away the pieces of glass and sticking it in my pants. I pulled out my phone and read over the text that had been sitting there, unsent, for the last four days.
This was it. The thing that would ruin all of it, all of us. The guillotine needed to drop, and I had to be a man for once in my life and do the right thing. Make the right call. I hit send and the reply came almost immediately.
Meet in the parking garage in 30.
ARCHER
Istuffed my phone back into my pocket and heard the distant sound of her struggling in her dreams again. Cracking the door to her new room, I saw her lying there, twisting and turning as she fought against someone in her mind.
How she could be fearless and strong while being fragile and soft was the biggest enigma.
Or maybe she wasn’t, the realization that I didn’t actually know her was more painful than I’d wanted to admit.
There was a time I’d given up all my secrets to her because I thought I was worthy of the same from her.
But I wasn’t.
I was just a fool.
An insect caught in her web as she spun me into her next meal.
This was a stranger lying in front of me.
Someone I didn’t know, I didn’t recognize at all.
An actress who played the part so well I couldn’t tell where make-believe collided with the truth of who she actually was.
But as I stared at her now, I knew I was failing at fooling myself, because she was perfect in every way.
It was the worst kind of anguish to know that the sum of our parts did fit together so well.
We were two puzzle pieces so clearly crafted by a cruel God who never meant for us to be whole.
Two kids who had their entire childhood ripped away from them by cruel men who served even crueler purposes.
Men who molded children into weapons and used them for their sadistic bidding.
Families who only cared about how we could serve the “purpose”, because money was always more important than happiness.
“Mmm…No!” She mumbled in her dream as she thrashed from side to side, and it pained me. I couldn’t touch her, couldn’t reach out and soothe her, couldn’t wrap her in my arms and tell her that it was going to be okay.
That was never my job.
I was just the idiot who was always in the way, always there.
Was I ever even her friend?
My mind was taking advantage of my weakness, filling my head with the most vile black and white thoughts I couldn’t shake out.
Was I meant to be her end?
Or was she somehow mine?