Page 60 of Taunting Tarran
The air tastes stale and of exhaustion, the grip of Tarran’s hand offering the only warmth in this godforsaken night. The familiar black gates loom ahead, their gothic claws signaling we’ve reached where we had started, and we push on – stopping isn’t an option.
My headset crackles with dead static, but Sal’s voice is long lost.
Surely we would have reception by now?
‘There’s an SUV!’ I murmur, ‘that must mean there are still other players-’
‘And girls...’ Tarran interjects.
‘And girls, still out there.’
Tarran nods, her grip tightening around my hand as we dart towards the vehicle. The crunch of gravel underfoot felt like a betrayal – too loud. After so many hours of silence, making noise feels unnervingly foreign.
As we approach, the driver’s side door swings open, and Carlos emerges. His smile is sharper than a blade as he motions someone else to exit the vehicle. The muzzle of Carlos’s gun is cruelly pressed to the side of Sal’s temple, his eyes wide, feral and worried.
‘Oh, hey, boss.’
‘Shut up,’ Carlos growls, returning his eyes to us, grinning as he drags Sal away from the car. ‘Look what I found,’ he sneers. ‘Your rat!’
‘Let him go, Carlos.’
My uncle chuckles, a grating sound that scrapes against my nerves like nails on glass. ‘Nah,nene,’ he says. ‘You don’t get it, do you?’
‘Let him go,’ I repeat. ‘You can have it, this, all of it. I don’t want it.’
‘It’s not that simple,’ he waves with his free hand, gesturing to the land around us. ‘This is ours - our family’s legacy. But you’re just like your father, always willing to throw it all away for some cunt. Always thinking with your dick. History repeating itself.’
‘Let. Him. Go.’ Again, I repeat, every word leaving my mouth like a bullet. Carlos’s head tilts back, his grin widening further.
‘Hey, boss, see -’ Sal nods to the side where Carlos stands, ‘gun, would have come in handy right about now.’
‘What did I say? Shut up.’ Carlos smacks Sal across the head with the back of his hand before turning his attention back to me. ‘Or what,nene? You gonna kill me with your arrows? Risk all of this?’ he waves his hand again, gesturing to the land around us. ‘Our family, for some cunt? You’re more like your father than you realise. You ran away because you didn’t want to be like him, but it’s in your blood, boy!’
‘Stop calling her a cunt,’ I seethe.
‘I put up with your mother for three years after you were born – the endless arguing, your father always putting her first beforeourfamily. Then one day, I decided I couldn’t let some slut come between us, between blood, jeopardising everything your grandfather had built.’
I swallow. ‘My mother?’
‘Yes, boy. Your mother! She begged me to spare your life as I snatched hers away right in front of your eyes. You owemeyour life!“No, please, no,”she begged.’
‘She died in a car accident.’
He laughs, ‘Is that what yourpadretold you? I watched her beg for mercy, watched the light fade from her eyes. Sometimes, I see that same look inyours.’
‘You’re lying.’
I don’t remember. I barely remember her face. But ever since her death, I’ve felt alone.
He laughs again, ‘“Mommy loves you, Gabriel, my Angel Gabriel,”’ he mocks.
He’s trying to provoke a reaction. He won’t get one.
Fear had always been a foreign concept, an emotion I’ve never really experienced. That was until I saw Tarran. Then, it’s as if a dormant part of my soul had awakened, ignited by the sight of her twenty years ago. It stirred a fierce protectiveness within me, my heart pounding - not with fear, but from the overwhelming determination to keep her safe. But now, as my heart races, I begin to wonder – is this fear? Not for my own life, but for Tarran’s and Sal’s.
‘Is that because you wanted her for yourself, Uncle?’
‘Eh?’ he scoffs.
