Page 50 of Fall
“Where the fuck am I?” His eyes dart to the weapons as his reflexes kick in.
He tries to stand. I lunge forward, crowding him with anger and shove him back down onto the rotten bench with one hand to the chest.
“Sit,” I order. “You’re in the Amazon rainforest. Miles from civilization.” I can’t help the smirk playing on my lips when he noticeably gulps.
He stuffs filthy hands into sweat slicked hair and quickly realizes he’s not cuffed. “What is this?” His palms curl and his wrists rotate outwards.
Two men guard the door, and the rest are strategically scattered around the hut with the order to shoot and kill. No surrender.
“Like I said, you’re in the guts of the jungle with nowhere to run to. How about I give you a tip?” I cock my head and fold my arms.
“Go on then.”
“You’re safer in here than out there—for now,” I add with a low chuckle. “You're not restrained because I can kill you in seconds. But where’s the fun in that, right?”
“You sonofabitch. Why now?” He rubs his blood crusted lips. “It’s been years since the fire.”
My hands ball, mentally drifting back to the flames. Gabriela’s last breath. Searing pain. Heartbreak. I deliberately take my time to answer, balancing a cool head with the swell of sadism. “If not now, then when, Miguel? Huh?”
“It’s been years.”
“Surely you didn’t think I’d forget about what you did, or let you get away with it?”
“I thought you’d either burned alive or gone on the run before the feds could catch you.”
“Nah…” I sigh, splaying my scalded palms outwards. “I took matters into my own hands and tracked you all this time. And now you’re going to tell me who put you up to it.”
Miguel shakes his head slowly and runs his tongue over his top teeth. “Which makes you a dumb fuck with no clue.”
The intensity of my hatred flares to nuclear. I’m holding him hostage, and he’s showing no signs of respect. And worse still, no remorse for the past. “You’ll tell me who wanted the list,” I grit out.
Miguel spits on the filthy wooden floor and offers me a slow smirk. “I don’t owe you shit, Valez.”
I stare at his smug face without an ounce of compassion for his miserable life, or how it will end. “That’s where you’re wrong. You owe me your life. The information you give me is a bonus.”
Miguel sneers darkly. “You honestly think I’ll spill if I’m going to die anyway?”
“You’re fucked either way. I can make it quick or drag it out for days. I’ve got nowhere to be. Your choice.” I shrug casually.
He leans forward, contemplating his next pointless move. “Which makes silence even more rewarding. I don’t have to give you anything. Seems to me like you’ve been licking your wounds in the rainforest, and you're still blind to it all.”
Every pang of loss, sharp stab of grief and crippling acceptance I’ve endured over the years, knots behind my ribs. It squeezes my heart in a tight fist. Dragging my patience lower. “Blind? I know what I saw. Every asshole in my home that day is an enemy. And guess what, there’s only two of those fuckers still breathing. You and Maria are next.”
“Good luck with that.” His voice simmers on the edge of fear.
I could strangle this motherfucker until his eyeballs burst. My nostrils flare as I inhale a calming hot breath. “Your cooperation is all I need. Not luck.”
Miguel lowers his voice to a sinister whisper. “Do you honestly think this will end well for you?”
A burst of sweat coats my spine. I lock my eyes with his and tip into him. “When you both die, that will be the only happy ending I need. My sister was pregnant… withyourbaby.” My heart aches. “You took it to the next fucking level.”
“I didn’t plan that,” he interrupts with a snarl. “The pregnancy was a mistake.”
“Really? Getting her pregnant was more than a mistake. It was careless and cruel. You gave her a future as a mother and then blew a hole in her chest.” My pulse hammers. I’m strung out and seething with venom. “And that’s exactly how you’ll be treated. Fair and fucking final.”
“Fuck you, Dante,” he snips with dry rebellion. “We both know that bullet was meant for you. I was never gonna kill her. She was only bait. A bargaining chip for the list. She’s dead because of you.”
My blood runs ice cold. “Because of me?”
