He swallowed, his eyes blinking rapidly as he tried to force the pain down. I cut into his left hand with deep crisscrossing slices that left his hand a bloody, tattered mess. "I know." He held my stare the entire time, knowing that while the penance might have taken a different form, this was the punishment he'd earned no less.
"If it weren't for you, Isa wouldn't be in my bed with bloody knees and torn palms. She'd be exploringAtlantiswith me, still in Ibiza. Still falling in love with me and completely unaware of the truth. Because of your failure, she bled," I growled, dropping the knife to the counter when I'd finished with his hand. I left his right unscathed as a kindness, knowing that it would make it easier for him to function as my second if he had at least one working hand.
"I admit that my handling of Pavel caused problems, and I accept my penance willingly," Alejandro said, his voice dropping low as he ended the statement. He always trailed off as he considered the best way to phrase messages he knew I wouldn't want to hear, but he was my second because he always said it despite his fear.
He was honest, regardless of the consequences for himself.
"I think you need to consider the possibility that Isa was never going to choose to stay in Ibiza. Her life in Chicago holds some sway over her that she can't seem to let go of, no matter how she feels for you. If that's the case, she might not ever be yours in the way you want. What will you do if that's true?"
"I don't know," I admitted, taking his gun from the holster at the side of his pants. Touching my finger to the trigger, I aimed it at his knee as he flinched but didn't try to move away from my aim. "But for now, if she bleeds, so do you."
He groaned when I fired the gun and caught him in the thigh just above the knee. Another kindness, at least in my world, to not have to suffer through the recovery of a shattered kneecap. The bang reverberated through the space, a sound that the walls of my home were all too familiar with.
It wasn't uncommon for me to shoot people, though I tried to keep that kind of activity out of the house for Regina's sake.
Summoned by the noise, she hurried into the kitchen and ranted at me. "Mi hijo!" she yelled. "Now I have to throw out the ensaimada dough and disinfect the counter. You couldn't have taken your games outside?" She tutted, stepping around the counter to clean as Isa's scream echoed from the bedroom.
I dropped the gun to the counter, racing for the bedroom faster than I thought my bare feet could carry me. Regina followed at my heels, knowing there had been something different in that scream.
That one had been a scream of pain, of pure terror, and not one of frustration.