Chapter Twenty-Five
Lorena
I make my way towards Uncle Pedro as soon as I’m sure Leo is gone. I walk towards him in a trance-like state. For the longest time, Uncle Pedro has been the big, malevolent, powerful shadow that I could never escape, but now, with him bleeding out on the ground with no soldiers behind him, I see him for the cowardly cockroach he actually is .
His head snaps up at the sound of my footsteps. “Laura, you’re here,” he says hopefully. “Help me up, child. We must leave now.”
“There is no we,” I say coldly, my fingers tightening around the gun in my hand.
“Don’t be ridiculous. We aren’t safe here. Do you think that monster will spare you when he comes back to finish me off?”
“He’s not going to finish you off. I won’t let him.”
He smiles at me gratefully, a smile I had once considered fatherly and kind.
“You’re loyal, and you’ll be rewa—”
I don’t let him finish sprouting off more of his lies. “I won’t let him finish you off, because I’ll do it myself.” I cock the gun.
His eyes go wide with terror. “What has that man filled your head with? They are all lies! You mustn’t believe anything he’s said.”
“And what about what you’ve said? Should I believe that?”
“Of course, child. I’d never lie to you.”
“I’m not your child ,” I say, focusing the gun on the space between his eyes. “I heard everything. Every single thing you said to Leo.”
He makes to stand up, and I shoot him in the right knee, causing him to buckle down back to the ground with an agonized wail. I ignore his pleas.
“The next one will go in your other knee if you try to move again.”
“We are family!” Pedro roars at me.
“You stopped being my family the second you plotted against your own brother. What sort of monster are you?”
“You’ll understand someday. You and I, we are cut from the same cloth. We know what it means to make sacrifices.”
“Sacrifice is using the money you’ve been saving for a car for your kid to join the hockey team. Sacrifice isn’t contriving to have a whole family murdered because you thought you deserved what they had. You are a monster, and I’m nothing like you!” I roar at him, hands shaking with fury.
“You cannot kill me,” he suddenly chuckles. “You’re a coward, just like your father.”
“I’m no coward.”
“If you aren’t, then why isn’t Vitale dead?”
That’s the million-dollar question, isn’t it?
He throws his head back and lets out a bark of laughter. “You are still that little quivering girl from years ago who lay there and pretended to be dead when her whole family was being wiped away. You had no power then, and you have no power now.”
“You’re the one who was too much of a coward to look my father in the eye and shoot him, and so you had to use Ares to do your dirty work. I’m going to do what you were never brave enough to do, Uncle. I’m going to slay my own monsters by my damn self.”
A look of fear flashes in his eyes, and before he can open his mouth and say anything else, the gun jerks in my hand and my bullet makes its way into his forehead. It is not until his body drops to the floor and his blank eyes stare at me that my tense muscles relax.
He's dead.
I wait for the feeling of victory and elation, but instead, all I feel is a sense of unsettlement. Uncle Pedro is only one half of the equation; Leo is the other half. The half that will remain unsolved.
Tossing the gun away from me, I carefully pick my way over the littered dead bodies, but as soon as I’m far enough, I break out into a run. I need to get out of this city and as far from Leo as I can get.
Finding a taxi in this part of the city is much more difficult than I thought, especially since we’re in the middle of the night. My breath comes out in heaving pants as I continue to run. Away from Uncle Pedro. Away from Leonardo Vitale. Away from this life, completely.
I’ve done it before; I can do it again.
My chest aches, my muscles are weak, and my mouth is so parched from thirst. Yet, I don’t stop. I continue to run, even though it is the early hours of dawn and it’s still dark everywhere.
A tear slips out of my eyes as I think about my life, about all the things that Uncle Pedro said.
How could he be so wicked? How could he be so evil to the point where he had to connive with the enemy to wipe out his brother’s family? How could he pretend like he was my savior all those years when he was the main source of my pain?
When Uncle Pedro rescued me all those years ago, I felt like I owed him my life. He treated me nicely for the first couple of weeks after I was rescued, sending maids to get me whatever I wanted, and cracking jokes with me over lunch and dinner. He tried to make me feel better. I believed he genuinely cared.
Then came the training.
“To protect yourself,” he'd said.
I didn’t want to do it. The sight of blood made me remember of my parents lying in a pool of their own blood. The sound of gunshots took me back to that dark moment when I saw my family get killed.
But gratitude towards Uncle Pedro compelled me. He’d saved me, after all. I owed my life to him, and at the end of the day, he was only teaching me how to fight so that I could defend myself.
Until he started sending me on missions to eliminate his foes. It was easy for me. Whenever they saw a little, teenage girl approaching them, they never expected that I would be the one diving a dagger into their hearts. I kept working for Uncle Pedro until I realized I’d turned into the same people that killed my parents.
But staying ten years with such a person takes a toll on you. He had turned me into the monster he was.
That was when I knew I had to leave.
I always knew Uncle Pedro wasn’t a good person, but I never realized the extent to which he could go just to get what he wanted.
Maximo’s death was my awakening. Now, after hearing the things he confessed, I know that I want no form of contact with him. I plan to disappear again, and this time around, no one will find me.
I continue to run until I find myself getting into the city. Yet, I am nowhere close to the motel. I shouldn’t even be thinking about going there. I know there are people after me. Uncle Pedro already has someone looking to kill me. Leo probably does too.
But the only thing I have on me at the moment is the stolen uniform I’m wearing and a bloodied dagger in my pocket. My money, my phone, and every important thing I would need for survival is in my dingy motel room.
Just then, I hear the faint roar of a car vehicle. I whip my head across the road to see a taxi approaching. No sane taxi driver would want to pick up a random woman who has blood all over her body in the early hours of the morning. Well, good thing he doesn’t have a choice.
I stand in the middle of the road, waiting for the car to get to me. A part of me wishes to be crushed by the incoming vehicle. The other part of me wants the car to stop so that I can get to the motel before anyone finds me.
As I’d expected, the yellow cab slows down before stopping before me. Except, the driver doesn’t care that I might be trying to commit suicide.
“What the hell are you doing in the middle of the road?” the driver yells, poking his head through his window.
I silently march to the passenger's door and pull it open before slipping in.
“What in the world do you think you're doing, lady?” the middle-aged man grunts in anger.
Turning to either push me out of his car or rain insults on me, his blue eyes widen as he takes in the dried blood on my face and hands.
“W-who are you?” he stammers again.
Even though he’s holding the steering wheel in a vice-like grip, I can still see his body shaking.
Slipping the dagger out of my pocket, I drop it between us.
“Drive,” I command, holding the dagger over the center console.
I recognize the fear that flashes in his eyes as he shakily turns on the ignition.
The car ride is the most silent I’ve had in my life. That is exactly what I need. Silence.
The car drives through the not-so-familiar streets, until finally, we approach the rundown neighborhood of the motel.
“Stop here,” I hiss, two blocks away from the motel.
The driver more-than-willingly obliges, the car screeching to a stop. I step out of the car and slam the door behind me. A part of me feels guilty for traumatizing the innocent driver this early morning without paying him, but I am overcome by desperation. I am a woman on the run for her life.
As I jog down to the motel, I manage to wipe some of the dried blood on my face and hands. Some stubborn patches are still left, so I free my hair from its tight bun, letting the long strands cascade down my face like waves. I slip my bloodied hands, along with the dagger, into the pocket of my oversized pants. The oversized pants belong to a man I killed.
The receptionist on duty is clearly not a morning person. She dozes once, and hits her head against the desk, before raising her head and adjusting her glasses on her face. Her eyes meet mine. Whatever she sees makes her look away.
Once in my room, I hastily stuff my things into my duffel bag and sling it across my shoulder. Only as I open the door to leave, Leo stands outside, a gun leveled at my forehead.
My heart hammers in my chest as I back away slowly from him. My legs feel weak, and for a second, I’m afraid they won’t hold me up any longer.
“Leo,” I manage, throat tight.
He doesn’t answer. He just walks into the room and shuts the door behind him. His brown eyes are dark, like midnight, as he stalks towards me, like a hunter stalking his prey.
“How many times did you try to kill me?” His voice is deep and emotionless. It makes my heart thud harder.
“Leo, please, let’s talk—”
“Answer. The. Damn. Question!”
“Once,” I reply, forcing the word out.
He chuckles humorlessly. “So, your uncle sent you to kill me, and you only tried once? You expect me to believe that?”
I don’t say anything, because I know he won’t believe me anyway.
“And when was this?” he asks again. His jaw flexes as he clenches them. “When was the one time you attempted to murder me?”
“Two nights ago, in your library,” I confess.
The anger on his face morphs into disbelief, and something else. Something that looks like pain. He runs his tongue over his teeth.
“Before or after we had sex?” he demands.
My throat clogs, but I force the singular word out of my lips. “After.”
Leo chuckles again, and this time, the pain in his eyes is very evident. “Was it when you teased me for wanting to cuddle? Or after I slept in your arms?” The questions chafe against my bleeding heart, tearing me apart inside.
I feel like the worst person on earth. I feel like a monster, just like Uncle Pedro.
“You killed my sister,” I finally hiss, my rage bubbling over. “You and your father are the reason my entire family is dead. So, don’t you dare guilt-trip me for seeking revenge,” I spit venomously.
A betraying tear rolls down my cheek, and I harshly wipe it off, refusing to let weakness show.
“Your Uncle was responsible for the death of your family,” Leo snarls. “I’m sure you heard that since you listened to his entire confession earlier…”
He knew I was standing outside. Of course he did. Probably had me tailed.
“Your father pulled the trigger that killed my parents. You pulled the trigger that killed my sister…”
“I didn't. Had you just fucking asked me, we wouldn't be in this mess,” Leo growls, shaking.
He’s lying. I know he is. I can barely stand to look at him anymore, so I fix my gaze on the peeling wall opposite him.
“Yeah, like that conversation would've led anywhere. You wouldn't have hesitated to blow my brains out,” I reply bitterly.
Leo shakes his head, a flicker of disappointment crossing his face. “You really just see me as a monster, don't you?”
I continue to stare, not out of fear that he might shoot me if I speak wrong, but because I'm at a loss for words. Rage and fury have dictated my life for too long, turning me into a shadow of myself, a pawn in someone else's sinister game.
Now, I'm just tired. I want to listen.
“Not that I owe you an explanation, but I have the decency to tell you what really happened before I wipe you off the face of this earth,” Leo says, his voice heavy with regret.
I swallow hard.
“I aimed the gun at her, but I couldn’t fucking pull the trigger. My father took the gun and did what I couldn’t do,” he confesses, his words heavy with agony. He pauses, closing his eyes as if the memory is a fresh wound being torn open once again. Well, welcome to the club.
“I suffered for that decision until my father died. But now that I know she was your sister, I’m glad I was a coward that day,” he spits out bitterly.
I glance at him again, searching for any hint of deception, but all I see is raw honesty shining through his eyes. Yet, it’s hard to just accept it just because it’s the truth.
“You ruined my life!” I finally let out the scream that’s been building inside of me for years.
“No! You ruined mine!” Leo’s voice bounced within the walls.
“Because of my inability to kill your sister, I was tortured for years. My father vented his anger on me and my mother, physically and emotionally abusing us. That monster took her life, and I was powerless to stop it.”
I feel sorry for him, and the feelings wracking through me are a mixture of guilt, anger, and grief.
“That’s why I am the way I am. I don’t let anyone in. I don’t give anyone the time of the day, but I did that all for you. God, I’m so stupid. I let you in my house, close to my family, in my bed!” He shakes his head, sneering at me. “I feel like I don’t even know you. I trusted you. I let you get close to me, Laura.”
The sound of my real name on his lips hurts more than a dagger to the chest. He runs a hand through his hair, and I notice that his hands are shaking, like mine.
“I don’t forgive betrayal.” His voice cracks slightly as he takes another step towards me.
The lump in my throat rises as another wave of tears wells in my eyes. I hate him. I want to hurt him so badly. I want to kill him. But at the same time, I want to comfort him and hold his hand.
I hate myself for feeling this way about him.
“You should kill me, then,” I mutter, trying to keep my composure. “I have no one else to live for anyway.”
Leo takes another step forward, pressing the gun very hard against my temple. I shiver as the cold metal of the barrel presses against my skin.
He looks into my eyes, and I wonder if he’d do it, if he really wants to end it.
“Do it,” I challenge, my voice low. “End this.”
“You still don’t get it, do you?” Leo snarls, his voice harsh and dangerous as his fingers curl around the gun. “If I could kill you, I would. But I can’t—”
“Just do it!” I insist.
“I can’t,” he admits, his grip on the gun tightening.
“Why?” I demand, desperation in my tone. “Why can’t you put me out of my misery and pull the damn trigger?”
“Because I fucking love you!”
His words hang heavy in the air, shattering the silence.
My world spins as if a heavy wind swept the floor out from under me. The words reverberate in my head, and the only noise that fills the silence between us is that of our labored breaths.
“Believe me, I do. I've crossed lines I never thought I would. I've kissed you, fucked you—things I never do. Repeatedly. I’m lost in these damn feelings. You betrayed me, tried to kill me, yet I still find myself unable to put a bullet between your eyes,” he bites out harshly.
My heart struggles between leaping for joy at his confession and falling deeper into misery.
“I’m torn between hating you and loving you. I don’t think I’ll be able to live with myself if I do the very thing I’m inclined to do. My heart keeps screaming at me to do the opposite.”
“You don’t mean that,” I whisper, blinking rapidly to fight back the fresh wave of tears pooling in my eyes.
But deep down, I know he means it, because I feel the same way.
The gun clatters against the floor as he cups my face into his hands.
“Let me show you, then,” he growls before crashing his lips into mine, stealing the air right out of my lungs.
The world blurs around us, and all I can focus on is his hot lips, how soft and inviting they feel against mine, how gentle and passionate they move, and how much I love him too.
I moan into his mouth as his hands roam freely over my body, making me feel alive.
He pulls me roughly into him, molding our bodies together, and then he whispers against my lips. “I’m so mad at you right now, but I’ve also never wanted to fuck you more.”
In that moment, despite the pain and the chaos, I realize I want nothing more.