“Tell me, or you’re dead.”
“Fuck you.”
“Tell me who El Diablo is. Tell me now!” Alejandro pulls the man’s arm down and breaks it.
I actually hear the bone snapping, and bile pushes into my throat.
The man’s blood-curdling scream laces through my mind, and even when he stops, I can still hear the echo.
I notice that no one comes to help. The street behind us was full of people. Someone would have heard his cry of agony and the gunshots, but I guess this is how it works in this world. Not the world of Brazil. The world of crime. The same way people treated Alejandro like a celeb, they’ll know he’s the cartel king, and they know to stay out of the way when trouble comes.
It’s just me who didn’t listen.
“I’ll kill you for that!” the man threatens. That’s when I get a good look at his face and realize with more mortification that I’ve seen him before. He’s one of El Diablo’s men. He was in New York. He was one of the men who stormed my father’s house and shoved me in the van. He kidnapped me. The bastard kidnapped me.
I saw him again just before I left for Brazil.
Jesus, what the hell is going on?
What are they up to?
They’ve asked me to get information, but they’re here. Why?
There’s a noise that makes Alejandro look toward me. He sees me, but the man takes that moment to break free of Alejandro’s hold.
He hits him with the back of his gun, and Alejandro falls backward.
I hear the cock of the hammer, and I scream knowing what’s coming next.
He’s going to shoot him.
“No!” I scream, and I realize I really had forgotten who the beast is I’ve been giving my body to night after night.
Alejandro doesn’t get shot. He pulls a knife from God knows where and stabs the man in his heart. The gurgling sound is loud enough for me to hear from here. It’s a sound I don’t think I’ll ever forget.
Alejandro doesn’t stop with one stab to the heart. He yanks out the knife and stabs the man repeatedly. Then, as the man flops back onto the ground, Alejandro picks up the gun and shoots him twice in his face.
Another shot goes to the man’s stomach, and another and another until he empties the gun.
That’s when I see what kind of beast he is—a monster.
That man was long dead, maybe the moment the knife plunged into his heart, but Alejandro kept going, like he enjoyed the kill.
“Motherfucker! Let’s see how you’ll fucking kill me now,” he growls as if to confirm my thoughts.
What I feel now is fear. Fear of him. I know he was defending himself, but I saw how he killed that man.
He killed him.
I think Alejandro must hear me whimper because he turns and looks at me as if he just remembered I’m there.
Panic stabs my own heart when I see the blood covering his face. It’s all over his face and his hands.
He looks like he just stepped out of a horror film. A horror film in which I’m a main character. The wild card.
How did this happen?
We were sitting down to eat like a normal couple, talking about family.