Page 46 of Fall
“All clear,” a voice calls out. “The target is alive and restrained.”
“Who the hell sent you.” The rough pitch of cockiness runs a shiver down my spine. I know that tone like it's imprinted on every memory cell in my brain.Miguel.
Power spreads through me and shakes my insides. This time I'm the bad guy. I’m the man with the gun and the devil on my shoulder who’ll happily help me rip out his heart without remorse. My fists clench by my sides, waiting to unleash violence. I follow the voice and crimson boot prints marking out a path around the crates.
The pulsating ventricles in my heart work double time. I’m pumped and snarling by the time I close in on my new prisoner. His ankles and wrists are bound with biting plastic cords. His cream suit is covered in filth and new shoes dull with debris.
I’m ready to reserve my seat in hell and kill this asshole.
His eyes narrow in on my outwardly casual approach. The whites of his eyes surround his subtle shock. “Are you fucking kidding me?” he hisses with a partial laugh.
Drawing in the malice I’ve kindled for years, I feign a smile. It’s a calculated half smirk that shows him who’s in charge this time. Me. The motherfucking ghost.
“Dante fucking Valez.” He spits out a goop of scarlet saliva. “So you’re, el Fantasma. The unsolved mystery.” A bruised cheekbone has swollen and split, hiding his left eye. “The fugitive.”
I don’t show the bitterness blooming within me. He needs to understand that I’m in control now. It’s been too many years since I’ve seen him in the flesh. A virtual imprint of transactions and co-ordinates doesn’t meet the expectations of butting heads one more time.
I’ve imagined this scenario countless times and mulled over all the ways I could torture him. As much as his smug, battered face fires up the flames of hatred, I’m left feeling less than satisfied. He’s trapped and at my disposal. Whatever happens now will be controlled and expected. It’s almost an anti-climax and far removed from the rush I get with Iris.
I grimace at the distraction and sink down to face him, far enough away to stop me from strangling the bastard. The disgusting stench of his cologne injects a memory. Gabriela’s besotted smile. Miguel’s reciprocating kiss. I shake it off, my mind set on answers.
We’re close enough to hear each other’s breathing. Mine notably regulated, and his labored with fake arrogance.
“It’s been a while, Miguel.” My voice rumbles between us, low and threatening. “When was the last time I saw you? Do you remember?”
He swallows hard. I don’t miss the tremor of adrenaline in his cuffed hands. “You know the bullet had your name on it. Not Gab…”
“Don’t!” I interrupt with a harsh bark. “Don’t even breathe her name.” My palms fist and release, waiting for my brain to permit an attack.
“What the hell is all this?” His torso twists into me with bravado. “It was years ago. Why now?”
I laugh. It’s a show of authority. An alien sound in my head. “Why am I here?” I repeat his question. “Well, I’m here because you’re a greedy cunt who wanted more drugs to smuggle into Florida.”
His right eye squints. “And what, you’re working with the Columbians now?” He sneers. “Think you're a hotshot trafficker, Valez? The cartel kings will cut off your fucking balls and serve them to you on a skewer.”
Rising to full height, I leave him at my boots. “I’m just a guy getting payback, and you’re my next victim.”
My body shadows his. Realization clouds his expression, removing the slight smile from his lips. “Go on then, puta. Do it. Put a bullet in my brain.” Miguel struggles, itching to stand so he’s not below me.
I angle away from him, my vision fringed with powdered fury. “Get him to his feet.”
The desire to ram my gun into his mouth and pull the trigger simmers when I catch sight of Luiz. He eyes me from a stretcher, silently warning me to pull myself together. The quick flicker between us isn’t missed. He understands how a rash move would fuck everything up. Then he nods his head, signaling to come closer.
“You look like shit.” His leg is bandaged with a mound of white gauze. “Good job today.”
“Sir.” For some reason, his formal address annoys me. He took a bullet for my cause. That makes him more than trusted. “The serum was in my pocket, so you can guess how the syringe looks.” He winces. “I’m sure that shit of yours is in me now.” His lips quirk. “Get him to the hut and take care of it there. Put the serum in a drink instead. It will take a bit longer, but worth every minute you make him suffer. I’ll join you when I can.”
“Jackson is on standby. You’ll be walking again in no time.” His head drops, and he blows out in pain. “Whatever you need, you’ve got it. Understand?”
He nods and covers his eyes with the crook of his arm. I watch as he’s carried out of the hanger, hearing boots scuff beside me.
“Where are you taking me?” Miguel struggles to balance. “Tell me where we’re going. Are we flying to Columbia? Have you struck a deal with them?”
“Take him to the chopper.” Looking back, I narrow my gaze, bored by his questions. “You don’t have permission to speak until I say so, and then you’ll be answering my questions, not asking them.”
“Fuck you!”
“Is that right?” A hurricane brews within me. “So you’re a tough guy, huh? A rebel with zero men to back you up?”
