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“Why should I respect people who never respect me in return, and what if I don’t want to sit in your chair? You may have chosen this life, but I didn’t.”
He laughs, no longer meeting my eyes. “That’s enough conversing for one night. Off you go and try to behave yourself, at least until the wedding.”
It's all I ever do. I'm tired of obeying orders and trying to be who they want me to be. The exhaustion weighs heavily on me, dragging me too close to the ground. Doing something I normally wouldn't do earlier left my chest feeling lighter. Following a stranger out into the dark alone should have terrified me but instead it made me feel in control. It was my decision and I followed through with it, disregarding my father's voice of reason resting in the back of my head.
My phone vibrates as I walk upstairs to my room. I smile, noticing my cousin Maria’s name on the screen. She’s one of the more likable family members. The good part of her never got overshadowed by the darkness from our lives. We only saw each other once tonight and she wondered about the handsome stranger the same way I did. I had no answers to give her then and not even now after talking with him a third time.
Maria: Mayo! What are you doing?
Maria had that silly nickname for me ever since we were kids and she couldn’t say Mateo. After a while it stuck, and she’s never stopped calling me it. I don't mind it. It reminds me of a simpler time I can now only reach in my memories and dreams.
Me: About to pass out.
Maria: Where did you keep running off tonight? I feel like I hardly saw you, primo.
Me: Nowhere. I was there for the whole shit show, unfortunately.
Maria: Sure you were. I don’t blame you for wanting to hide from Santiago and your father.
Me: Hiding is better than seeing how I constantly disappoint him.
Maria: How about you do something else he will disapprove of and come out with me Friday night?
Oh he will definitely hate that. Even more so if I go without his guards following my every move.
Me: Fine, but it can’t be any of my father’s or Santiago’s clubs.
I don't need either of their men to alert them before I get a chance to step inside.
Maria: Oh, it won’t be. It’s a new place and we are going to get you to loosen up a little. You are too tense lately.
Me: You know who I’m marrying. You would be too.
It wasn’t just who I'm marrying. It’s also this life I’m stuck in and the father I have. My mother has always followed his plans, nodding and smiling. Almost as if she was no longer her own person. I'm not like her. I can't go on this way for the rest of my life. I can't give up all of me. I slide my phone into my pocket and rush to my room. When I close the door behind me, my phone goes off again.
Maria: You coming or not? I’ll message you the address.
Me: I’ll be there.
My mother may abide by my father’s rules, but I always did my best to escape them. I may have agreed to marry Santiago, but I’ve never said I would make things easy for him or anyone else. I’ll fight against him until the very end, defying him every chance I get, because it's one of the small freedoms I have left.
Four
Gabriel
Another day, another kill. The money’s good, but I never do it for the money. I don't need it. Not anymore. My brothers and I managed to dig ourselves out of the hole Miguel Juventino left us in. It took years of sleeping in the streets, going hungry for days, and doing things we were ashamed of. Things his precious son never had to experience. He was always kept safe in his small bubble, but not for long. I saw the recklessness burning inside him a few nights ago and I’m ready to help him bring it to the surface.
I sit up straighter in my seat each time the door I have my eyes on opens. The right person hasn't come out yet. If I have to, I'll sit out here all fucking day until he does. Luke Masterson isn't returning home alive today either way. I hope he enjoys the last haircut he'll ever get.
The streets are mostly quiet except for the sounds of vehicles moving in the distance. Not too many people are out on the sidewalks and there's only one other business nearby. The door opens again and a tall, older man dressed in a blue suit steps onto the sidewalk, laughing and waving a hand behind him. I take out my binoculars and zoom in on him to get a better look at his face. I'm satisfied once his description matches the photo I was given. I toss a handful of peppermints in my mouth as I wait for him to slip inside his car. He takes his sweet time too. Only delaying the inevitable. Taking a phone call outside won't save his life. Neither will returning to the barbershop to get something.
Once he's finally where I need him to be, I drive away, watching in the rearview mirror as he starts the car, triggering the explosive attached to the bottom. I don’t normally like causing scenes, but it was per the client’s request. Today's mark started a fire a few months ago, killing many women and children, including my client’s wife and kid. I sympathized with the guy, and this man deserved to burn more than once. Once here, and a second time in hell.
Not only for what he did that day, but for all the other fucked up shit he's done over the years. The list is long too. The explosion is loud, busting a few car windows nearby. Metal and glass flies everywhere. I drive faster, watching the fire rise behind me as I turn off the street.
I pull over into a gas station, only long enough to send my brother a message.
Me: It’s done.
