Page 72 of El Malo
No longer interested in keeping up pretenses, I take a step forward, my shoulder brushing past Javier. His warmth and scent fill me up. He may be a monster, but he’s still a better man than the sick fuck sitting in the chair. “All those meetings. All those recordings. It was for nothing? You let me stay in that house knowing it was all bullshit?”
Angel mutters out a, “Oh fuck, bitch, you’re going down.”
Marco Antonio cracks his neck loudly from the wall.
“All bullshit,” Michael says with a laugh. “And when I got tired of Stokes’ whiny ass telling me it was time to close down the investigation and get back, I faked my own death. With a little help, of course. I’d made friends with attorney general Lucas Lorenzo and he paid me really fucking well to do his bidding for him. All he asked was for me to spoon feed my weekly information to him.” He shoots me a knowing look that has my gut hollowing out.
“Lorenzo, huh?” Javier asks, coolly. The attorney general will be dead by the end of the week.
Michael nods. “He had the means and connections to keep the agency out of here. The Estrada surveillance was no longer a problem the CIA cared about. El Malo’s destruction of this city ultimately funded Lorenzo’s corruption, but he still wanted to know your every move. Money works miracles around here. We’ve been playing this game for years, Daza. A permanent vacation. Acapulco weather, dirty whores during the week, and your fine ass every fucking Saturday.”
“You bastard,” I spit out at him. “You sick goddamned bastard.”
“You were so gullible, sweetheart. Came sniffing around for the dick like a desperate little thing. I couldn’t tell you no.” He looks past me at Javier. “Your woman, Estrada, is nothing but a lying whore who spent the past four years trying to tear you and your entire organization down.” Then, Michael looks at my stomach. “Poor you, baby. Won’t even get to have that kid. By the looks of the motherfucker behind you, he’s going to cut it straight from your body and feed it to you.” He laughs in a maniacal way that chills me to my bones.
I turn to face Javier and sure enough, his face has contorted to one of blind rage. He shoves his hands into his pockets and retrieves a pair of leather gloves. With his searing, angry glare on me, he slides the gloves on slowly. I back away from him, completely terrified of the monstrous look on his face I’ve never seen before. My tears fall harder and I’m unable to stop them. I back right into Angel, who once again grabs onto me in a punishing grip that makes me yelp in pain. My eyes never leave my monster.
My monster.
Despite the hate rolling from him, he’s still mine. He’ll always be mine.
And I am his.
“Marco Antonio,” Javier bellows, the fury emanating from him a living, breathing animal. “What happens when you touch Javier Estrada’s girl?”
“You die,” Marco Antonio growls.
“Arturo,” Javier hisses. “What happens when you touch Javier Estrada’s girl?”
“You die,” Arturo answers, his voice cold.
“Alejandro,” Javier says in a violent whisper. “What happens when you touch Javier Estrada’s girl?”
“You die,” Alejandro bites out.
“Angel.” Javier turns to glare my way, hate dripping from his features. “What happens when you touch Javier Estrada’s girl?”
“You die,” Angel says, gripping me tighter. He turns to Michael. “He’ll cut you open and pull your entrails out. He’s fucking psycho.”
“You’re still claiming her? Knowing what a lying cunt she is?” Michael asks in disgust.
I swipe at my tears and his eyes fall to my shiny ring. Big fat diamond that was ridiculously expensive. My wedding ring.
“You married the whore?” Michael’s eyes are wild.
“Javier,” I plead. “Please, baby.” I want this done. I want to go home. I want everything to go back to the way it was this morning when Javier woke me up by whispering sweet nothings to our child in my stomach.
Javier’s fiery hate isn’t on me but on Angel. “She’s a lying whore,” Javier tells Angel, his voice calm and challenging. “You heard the man. Fucked me over and lied. I married a fucking liar. What should I do?”
Angel laughs, dark and cold. “Fuck her up.”
“How?” Javier demands, his jaw tightening.
“We should all fuck her and then hang her upside down from the rafters. Cut her throat and watch her bleed out,” Angel offers.
Javier transforms to evil personified as he gestures at him. “Then by all means, Angel. Lead the way.” When Javier is in the shed, he likes toying with his victims.
Angel grips a fistful of my hair and I scream, taken by surprise at the forceful way he does it. He pushes me down to my knees. His strong hands rip apart my cotton dress from behind and it falls to the floor at my wrists. Panic, despite knowing it would come to this, overwhelms me. I start to crawl toward Javier, but Angel grabs my hips. My breasts are falling out of my bra as I try to get away. Angel yanks down my panties.