DIEGO
“Valentina Greko.” A man, whom I’ve dubbed Stain due to how much of my blood stains his clothes, walks back and forth in front of me while swinging a crowbar from the crook of his finger. “Is she really worth all of this trouble to you?”
I briefly close my eyes and swallow, wincing at the aching, burning sensation that rises from inside my throat.
I’m so thirsty. Every part of me feels raw and dry.
I’ve no saliva left and my mouth is as dry as sand to the point that even my own blood provides momentary relief outside of the pain.
The inside of my cheek is cut to shreds, thanks to my teeth having nowhere to go but deep into my own flesh after one too many blows to the face.
It’s lucky my jaw’s even still in place because from the way it throbs even just opening my mouth, I’m one bad punch away from a dislocation.
Is it worth it?
Is the pain of being beaten and abused, cut into and torn open, drowned and electrocuted over and over by some makeshift stun gun worth it? Being tied down for so long that my knees and legs throb, my feet swell, and my heart beats low and slow because I’m at the peak of my exhaustion?
They don’t let me eat. They don’t let me drink.
They don’t let me sleep.
I’ve long lost track of time. It simultaneously feels like days and yet also no time at all. I tried to guestimate based on how the drill wound on my thigh looks, but I can’t remember when it happened or how it should look now. It’s a blur. Everything is a blur.
But… is it worth it?
“I asked you a question.” Stain stops walking in front of me, then he turns and catches my chin with the crook of the crowbar. “Is she worth it? All of this?” He glances down my body, then locks eyes with me.
“Y-Yes,” I croak through shaky teeth and a fat lip.
“Seriously?” He smirks. “You’re delusional. No woman is worth this. Because that’s all she is, remember? She’s just a woman. A woman who doesn’t care if you live or die, who doesn’t care where you are or even how you are. Has she ever asked? Did she ever really care?”
He slowly kneels in front of me and lets my head sag forward by removing the crowbar and toying with it in his hands.
“Y-Yes,” I repeat.
“Think about it,” he remarks. “Your whole entire life is ruined because of her. Your apartment? Gone. Sorry about that. Your place of work? Almost. You’ve been hunted across the county, beaten and tortured, and I’m going to kill you.
All of which could be prevented if you just tell me where she is.
Where she calls home. That’s all you need to do.
Instead, you sit there and tell me nothing. ”
“I-I said…” Talking is exhausting, but I push through. “Y-You should just kill me because I’ll never tell.”
“Her pussy can’t be that good.” He snorts, slowly climbing to his feet. “Ain’t no way she’s that fucking special.”
He’s wrong.
He’s so wrong.
She’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met in my life.
The sweetest and the softest. She’s also the strongest, even if she doesn’t know it.
Just thinking about her ignites warmth in my chest and the strongest urge to protect her when I think about how scared she was when she got in my car. How beaten and broken.
They did this to her.
If she can take it, then so can I.
And I deserve it more than she ever did. She keeps the city safe, if I understand her people correctly. She saves lives and protects the little guy while preventing this entire city, this entire state, from descending into bloodied chaos.
I just kill people.
My brother’s dead. Tech is dead. God knows what’s happened to Mindy. The people in my life end up destroyed because that’s what I am. A curse. A hindrance. A bad omen. It’s lucky that I left Valentina when I did or she’d be next.
“We have other ways,” Stain said finally. “Other sources to give us what we need. But I liked you, Diego. I wanted to give you a fair chance.”
I tiredly roll my eyes and gaze at him through the beads of sweat clinging to my brow. “Fuck… you,” I snarl. “You’re a f-fucking pussy tryna a-act like we’re friends—”
In a fit of anger, Stain slams the crowbar into the side of my head and something cracks inside me.
Defeat.
The metal of the bar cuts into my cheek as the impact forces my teeth down into my tongue. Flesh splits and blood pours like a fountain while my head hangs to the side, utterly dazed from the force of the blow.
“Oh, shit.” Stain cackles suddenly. “Oh, dude, I think this might be it.”
Blood floods the back of my mouth and burns on the way down as reflex makes me swallow, but there’s too much blood and not enough space behind my teeth. My lips part and blood sluggishly pours out, dripping hot and wet onto my bare chest and down onto my thighs.
“F-Fuck you,” I slur, choking on a mouthful of blood while searing pain cuts through my tongue from trying to talk.
This is how I die.
And I die happy knowing I never said a word about Valentina. She might be the only person in my life that I’ve managed to save.
Dull thuds echo somewhere beyond the darkness that shrouds me, and a noise of confusion rises up from Stain. Several more thuds are followed by several short, sharp bangs. Stain approaches the door, his crowbar clutched in one hand, and the two other guards behind me suddenly move forward.
They block my view of the door, not that it matters because as I’m gazing at the back of the bald, burly man responsible for almost drowning me, the door flies off its hinges and collides with Stain, sending him crashing to the ground.
He becomes trapped under the door as someone leaps onto it and opens fire on the two other men.
Three shots are fired, then something clicks loudly and the gun is tossed aside.
The stranger darts forward, leaps onto the bald man, and locks their legs around his head, then uses that momentum to dive forward and bring them crashing to the ground with a sickening crack.
Two more people enter the room and Stain, trapped under the door, cries out, only to be silenced as one of the people on the door shoots through the wood and kills him.
Then… silence.
I blink and choke, unable to swallow any more blood, so I just let it pour out of my mouth until soft hands cup my cheek and lifts my head.
Eyes as gold as the morning sun lock onto me, framed by dark brows and long, amber hair flowing over one shoulder. I breathe in, and the sharp sting of alcohol catches in my nose, making me jerk slightly.
“Diego!”
It’s her. Valentina. Like something out of a dream, she’s suddenly standing before me and cupping my face while blood drools past my lower lip and stains her fingers.
“Val?” It’s too painful to talk and her expression crumples as she glances down at me, then back up.
“Fucking hell, I could slap the shit out of you right now,” she snaps breathlessly. “You left! You left without talking to me, and look what happened! God, I could just kill you!”
She could and I’d accept it with a smile on my face.
“Val…” I try again, but there’s too much pain and far too much blood in the way.
“Help’s coming,” she gasps. “You’re going to be okay, alright? I’m going to take care of you. God, when you’re better, I might actually kill you for scaring me like this. Fuck!” She leans forward and presses her soft lips to my forehead, instantly soothing my suddenly racing heart.
Maybe I have died already and this is my heaven.
As long as she’s here, I don’t care where I am.
Three days later, I sit in the kitchen of the Suit headquarters, staring out of the large window at the fluffy clouds racing across the sky. Birds dance between them, racing one another or perhaps dancing and playing. I can’t tell, and I don’t know enough to decipher it, but it’s nice to watch.
A mug of hot coffee warms my hands, strong drugs keep my pain at bay, and the subtle noise of the city rising up from below gives me a new sense of peace.
I’m alive.
Valentina saving my life wasn’t a dream. It was real. Somehow, she found me and she came for me. I can’t fathom how she was able to pull that off, and there have been far too many doctors and more getting in between us these last few days for me to ask, but she did it.
Somehow.
I never doubted that she was an incredible woman, and this proves it.
“Ugh.” Suddenly, her voice rises up from behind me and she enters the kitchen. Her hand brushes my shoulder, then immediately pinches the soft flesh near my neck while she leans over me and steals my coffee.
“Ow,” I croak softly, glancing up at her. “What was that for?” Every word is slow and careful thanks to the stitches in my tongue and the slight reduction in swelling.
“I’m still pissed at you,” she says flatly as she takes the seat next to me and crosses her legs so that her ankle rests against my calf. “You left me here. You left and got kidnapped and nearly died, so yeah, I’m still pretty pissed about that and I feel like I have a right to be.”
She’s different.
It’s not a huge difference, more of a subtlety, as if she’s stepped into a different light. The Valentina I know and love is definitely still there, but there’s something different about her ever since her memories came back.
But she smiles at me the same way, even now as she drinks the stolen coffee.
“I’m sorry,” I say slowly.
Valentina’s brows twitch together as she lowers her mug, licking her lips. “I want to know why. For me, I know I was throwing myself into remembering and I was doing everything really fast, but I always came back to you. And then you were just… gone.”
She didn’t cry when she rescued me, but right now, the way her eyelashes tremble and she keeps swallowing makes it look like she’s fighting not to cry right now.