Chapter 22
Marco
These motherfuckers have dragged me around this damn precinct, and the more they do it, the more I want to snap their fucking necks.
Talking to the fucking detectives and shit only serves to piss me off.
I want to know how Luna is. I want to know that she’s okay, and until they fucking tell me, or I can hear her voice, I’m not telling them shit.
“This is for your own good, Mr. Vasquez.”
“And letting me talk to my girl is for yours,” I snap at the last one they have me in front of.
“You’re going to tell us what happened if I call her?
” I nod my head and watch as he picks up the phone, and I rattle off her number.
It isn’t her who answers the phone because I hear him ask for her before he says just a second.
He holds the phone out to me, and I grab it with my cuffed hands and bring it to my ear.
“Chula?”
“Marco?” she whispers through her tears. I can hear her crying.
“It’s okay, Chula. Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”
“I had to get stitches, but I’m okay. Are you?”
“I’m fine. I’m about to tell them what happened, but I needed to know you were okay first. Is Damion there?” I ask her.
“Yeah, he’s here.”
“Good. He’s going to take care of you, okay? Don’t give him any shit until we clear this up,” I tell her.
“You’re … you’re coming back, right?”
“I’m always coming back, Chula. Always.”
“Okay. I love you, Marco.”
“I love you too. I need to go,” I tell her, even though I don’t want to hang up the phone.
I want to stay on this phone forever and just listen to her voice.
The line goes dead, and I pass the phone back to the cop before I start talking.
He flips on his little recorder and records everything I say.
I start from the beginning when we pulled up at the apartment and tell them everything that happened until I woke up to that bastard almost raping her.
“So you shot him?”
“He was about to rape my girl. Yeah, I shot his ass,” I tell him.
“This doesn’t look good, you know that, right? We have five bodies and only you as the shooter.”
“I didn’t shoot them all.”
“Then who did?”
“That’s your job, isn’t it? I told you what I did.”
“And you expect me to believe that you didn’t shoot the others?”
“I don’t really care what you believe, man. I’m telling you I shot that motherfucker who was about to rape my girlfriend. I didn’t touch the other ones,” I repeat what I’ve already said more than once.
“This is bad, Vasquez.”
“Well, that’s what happened. If it’s bad, it’s bad.”
“You’re looking at prison time, you know that, right?
” I shrug my shoulders. It was saving her from being raped.
I don’t give a fuck how much time they give me.
The asshole detective blows out a breath and makes me go over everything again and again.
My story never changes, regardless of what he thinks.
I’m not going to say I shot the other assholes when I didn’t.
That’s their job to figure out and not mine to tell them. I won’t ever snitch on my crew.
I’m eventually tossed into a cell, and that’s where I’m left until a lawyer Damion called shows up and informs me there is no bond for me.
Not that I’m surprised, I’m not. I didn’t figure they would be considering I admitted to killing that bastard.
The lawyer tells me I’ll more than likely get five or more years for what I did, for saving my fucking girlfriend from being raped.
Imagine that shit? The thought of being without her hurts.
I don’t want to leave her for that long, and hell, she’ll probably move on by then, and that thought hurts worse than anything.
I sit in this damn cell and contemplate everything that’s happening.
This shit, her. Maybe I shouldn’t have gotten involved with her in the first place.
Maybe none of this shit would have happened if I didn’t.
We’ve killed for each other now. We’ve taken lives and have blood on our hands now. It’s fucked up. I fucked it up.
But prison for five years for keeping her safe? That’s bullshit, and we all know it.
Another man is tossed into the cell with me, and it happens to be one I know. I shake my head and look over at him before he notices it’s me.
“Oh, shit. Marco. What the hell did you do?” Jason asks me.
“Murder.”
“What? That was you who took out those guys?”
“Not all of them, just one.”
“Word on the street is one person took them all out,” he says. I shake my head.
“Don’t give a shit what word on the street is. I got one, that’s it.”
“That’s fucked, Marco. You’re going to go down for all of them?”
“Better not. They’re the police, they need to do their damn jobs,” I tell him.
I sit back against the brick wall and just carry on a conversation with Jason for a bit.
He doesn’t really say shit that I don’t already know.
Jason has done his time in the pen more than once.
He knows people, and I’m going to use that to my advantage.
The problem is leaving her, leaving my Chula behind.
It’s fucked up. It’s not something I want to do.
I close my eyes and eventually fall asleep until the asshole detectives come back to get me.
I’m taken back into another room where the questioning goes on and on.
I tell the same story even though my lawyer told me to keep my mouth shut until he’s here.
I don’t really give a shit if he’s here or not.
I just want this shit over and done with.
I want whatever’s going to happen to happen.
The longer I sit here, the more I think, and the more I think, the more I know I’m going to lose Luna.