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Before I can part my lips, the nameless man is covering my eyes again and shoving a spoonful of beans and rice into my mouth, and I am nearly choking on the large amount forced down my throat. Food falls from my mouth and my coughs are loud and violent. That doesn't make him stop though. He laughs and does it again, getting way too much enjoyment out of watching me in pain. I swallow down every bit as best I can, trying not to let it come back up. “That's a good boy. Just a few more bites.”
He walks away and I sigh in relief. The relief doesn’t last as I hear the door open again. So far that door opening hasn't been a good thing. “Time to get you cleaned up. I can smell the piss from outside. I brought you some fresh clothes.”
I must have been so out of it, not to realize part of the wretched smell was coming from me. How long have I been in here?
He unties me just enough to lift me from the chair, but still keeps me restrained. My body is tossed on the ground like a piece of discarded trash and my whole side is screaming from hitting the cold pavement too hard. I kick and thrash against the floor as my clothes are being tugged off and I am left completely naked on the floor. I won't plead or beg because that's what he wants. I won't give him more than he's already taken from me.
Before I can wonder what will happen next, I am splashed with cold water. The pressure is so hard against my skin that it feels like my flesh is being ripped to shreds and, maybe it is. I lay there as still as I can, waiting for the tortuous pain to end. If I was given an option, I would have preferred to remain soaked in my own piss. The room goes quiet and the water is no longer hitting my body, but my skin still feels like it's being covered in pins and needles.
I can't keep my teeth from chattering and my body shivers violently underneath a large towel. He roughly rubs it over my skin in short, quick motions before tugging off the ropes and sliding a pair of clean underwear on me. I recognize the smell of laundry detergent and home when the shirt pulls over my head; these are my clothes. At this point, I'm too weak to struggle and my limbs feel completely useless as I try to kick and swing to no avail. He ties up my ankles and wrists and leaves me in a dry spot on the floor, draping a thick scratchy blanket over me. I close my eyes, needing an escape from my current nightmare.
Twenty-six
Gabriel
I've stayed away from Mateo like he asked me to, following his wishes. Each day it ate me up inside remembering the saddened expression on his face. Him appearing lost and broken sunk my heart in my chest. I drove by his house each night for a while, and I would just sit in my car. I tried to gain the strength to get out, but it never came.
I've been locked away in my own house for the last few days, ignoring Carlos's messages. Not even answering Trey's phone calls about the favor I asked him for. It no longer matters. Each and every day I lose interest in my revenge, and only care about protecting Mateo.
What happens to Miguel matters to me less and less. Besides, I got what I wanted. Didn’t I? Business was falling apart around him, and he was losing his trusted men left and right to his own hand and ignorance. Now he has lost his son, and soon he will lose him forever.
If I've gotten everything I've set out for, doesn't that mean I've won? Why does it feel like I am the one losing instead?
The wedding was quickly approaching, and the clock is ticking for me to take care of my next hit. The only job I won't be doing. I've been wracking my brain for ways around it. Ways to fake his death. But for some reason, the client wanted Mateo's body in a box. It was an odd request. Normally people didn't want anything to do with getting rid of any evidence. That's why they hired me to begin with. It only further pointed to the person I suspected being behind the hit.
Angel: The message for the hit came from a man named Jesse Gibson.
The name doesn't sound familiar to me and I can already tell it's a cover up. Whoever it is had someone else do their dirty work.
Me: Any way to find out who this guy works for?
Angel: Already on it, little brother. Give me a few more minutes.
The next few minutes are torturous. I am leaning back in my chair staring up at the empty white walls, ready to be looking into the eyes of the man who wanted Mateo dead. I want to be the last thing the man sees before I rip the life from his body. My phone buzzes in my hand and I'm hoping this means my wish will come true very soon.
Angel: Turns out the guy works for a very well-known mob boss.
Before Angel could respond with a name, I'm already crushing a nearby beer can in my hand, knowing exactly who it is. A man I've wanted dead for a long time. Killing him had never been worth the trouble that would come after. I figured someone else would take care of it eventually.
Angel: The man runs a whorehouse for Santiago Morales. I guess someone wanted to surprise the new groom with a lovely wedding gift.
Me: What does he gain from killing Mateo? Miguel will never allow that.
Angel: Then I guess it makes sense that he recently put a hit on Miguel Juventino as well.
I stand so quickly in my chair, it topples over behind me, crashing hard to the floor. If anyone was going to take down Miguel Juventino, it would be me and on my own terms.
Angel: I should also mention that Mateo Juventino has been reported missing. I sure hope you aren't involved.
My heart falls in my throat.
Me: No. It wasn’t me.
Angel: I guess we better find out who it was then, because it looks like it's been traced back to you.
I pace back and forth in my living room with my blood running cold. Whoever took Mateo is no doubt working for Santiago. That could only mean one thing. He knows. He probably knew about us for a while. A man like Santiago wouldn't take any risks of letting anyone ruin his precious plans. I was a huge threat to it and still am.
It made perfect sense for him to fake a kidnapping. To not only get Mateo away from the threat, but to get rid of it for good by pinning it all on me. It won't be long before Miguel's men are breaking down my door. I toss some clothes into a bag with the intent of disappearing for a while. The only person I care to hear from is Angel when he locates the place Santiago took Mateo.
