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I wanted more from her, wanted to taste her lips, listen to her moans. I wanted to see how far I could push her before her body gave in and made her feel good.
“Thanks,” she said. “You don’t have to be nice to me, you know.”
“Why not?” I asked, still staying there.
“My uncle’s going to be pissed with you. And I tricked you into it.”
“It was stupid to think you wouldn’t run,” I said. “No real reason for you to stay, not after we took away your phone.”
“I didn’t understand,” she said and looked at me with these pleading eyes that sent a thrill up my spine. “I had no clue. Do you know what I mean?”
“I hear you,” I said, my voice barely a whisper.
She opened her mouth then shut it again. I kept my fingers there until she pulled away and brushed past me. She got to her feet and walked to the stairs, moving fast, like she was physically forcing herself to run away. I watched her go and got to my feet again.
“When he comes to talk to me, I’ll tell him it wasn’t your fault,” she said.
“You do that,” I said. “But it won’t matter.”
She clenched her jaw. “Can’t you just be a little appreciative?”
I laughed and shook my head. “No, sweetheart, I can’t. I murdered a guy today for you, and I’ll murder some more if I have to. You should let that be enough.”
She shut her mouth and hung her head. “Yeah,” she said. “You did do that, didn’t you?”
Without another word, she walked up the steps. I watched her go, a strange mixture of emotions moving through me. I was tempted to follow her, but I knew she needed time to process.
Instead, I cleaned up the first aid kit, put it back into the bathroom, and went into the kitchen to make lunch.
At least I can get some food for both of us.
Killing always made me hungry.8ClairI stayed in my room under the covers for the next few hours as the day slowly waned. Luca came up early on in the afternoon and put a plate of food outside my door, but didn’t come in. I got up and ate in silence, though I barely tasted anything.
The world felt gray and broken.
I watched a man die. A man that wanted to hurt me, a man that wanted to torture me and take something from me, all because some uncle I didn’t even know left me money and property. I didn’t want any of it, didn’t need any of it. I gladly would give it away if it meant nobody would come after me ever again.
And yet I couldn’t. I didn’t have access to any of it, not yet at least. The legal proceedings were still ongoing, as far as I knew anyway.
A couple hours after sundown, I heard a car pull up outside and park. I heard a door slam shut, and then another. I heard voices, familiar voices, and heard a knock on the door downstairs.
I got out of bed and made myself presentable. I put on a long-sleeve shirt and a pair of yoga pants. I piled my hair up in a bun on my head. I stared in the bathroom mirror at myself and could have sworn I still had blood splatter on my cheek and chin, still could taste it in my mouth.
I turned away and walked out of my room, went down to the steps.
I heard them speaking in the living room, low and quiet.
“— too important,” my uncle was saying. “From now on, I need your eyes on her.”
“I’ll do what I can, sir,” Luca said.
I walked down the steps and both men turned to me. My uncle’s bodyguard stood by the door and stared at me, his eyes hard and unreadable. I stepped into the room and felt like a little girl about to get punished by my parents.
“Hello, Clair,” Uncle Luciano said.
“Hey,” I said.
“I hear you had an eventful day.”
I glanced at Luca and his expression was hard and unreadable.
“I did,” I said. “Luca here saved me.”
“That he did,” Uncle Luciano said. “But he also seems to have failed in making you understand your situation.”
“I think I understand it now.”
Uncle Luciano shook his head and leaned up against his cane. I walked further into the living room, putting myself between the men and the kitchen. I crossed my arms and wanted to move from foot to foot in nervous anticipation, but I controlled myself.
“I’m not sure you do,” he said. “You see, that man that tried to take you, he was a part of a cartel. Do you know what that means?”
“Sure,” I said. “Like one of those Mexican drug gangs.”
“Exactly,” Uncle Luciano said. “That’s exactly right. They’re called the Jalisco, and they’re one of the more powerful gangs in Mexico, though some of their power has waned in recent years.”
