while holding me in her arms. She did her best to protect me from the gunfight and, in return, forfeited her own life.
I’ve had a slight limp ever since.
A stray bullet ricocheted and hit me just below the knee as I ran, but I didn’t stop.
I couldn’t.
If I died too, who would restore my family’s honor?
“Please,” he sobs with a pain-filled voice, “I didn’t mean to. I would never—”
I spin the knife's handle in my hand and press the tip against the wound I spent twenty minutes digging carefully.
He whimpers again, and I smile.
If I continue to dig this little hole, in about an hour, I’ll be able to see through his neck without killing him.
The human body is a marvelous thing.
It can withstand high levels of pain and fight desperately to stay above water. Eventually, it capsizes like all boats caught in the fury of the ocean, and that’s when I know my job is done.
For the moment, at least.
There are always more men that will attempt to betray El Señor and hope for a better payout with another boss.
And I’ll always be there to teach them the error of their ways.
The last lesson they learn before being sent straight to hell where they fucking belong.
“Tell me why,” I say to him softly as I twist the knife a little deeper. “You were always one of my favorites, Mateo. It’s not just him you hurt by doing this. You were like a brother to me, cabrón.”
Mateo takes as deep a breath as he can, the sound slipping like a hiss through the hole in his neck, and I grit my teeth. He’ll answer me one way or another, and then I’ll end his life if I can still find the love for him that I held before.
“Tell me, and I’ll make it quick,” I promise him.
“Liar,” he spits at me, jerking his head away from the tip of the blade. “You never loved me, Sofi, because if you did, you wouldn’t be doing this.”
I smirk.
He forgets that love and loyalty are two completely different things, and that’s why he’s tied to my favorite chair in the small shack that El Señor built for me to do my work.
“I guess neither of us will ever know the truth then,” I say as I walk to the other side of the chair, grip a fistful of his hair, and begin to dig a brand-new, bloody hole on the other side of his bruised flesh.
Mateo lets out another agonized scream as I meticulously start to twist the knife through to the other side.
Slowly.
In a way that will haunt him when he enters the halls of Hell.
But I don’t want him to die.
Not like this.
I want him to remember me when the flesh burns and slips off his skin.
I want him to remember that the price you pay for betraying your family is higher than can be imagined.
“Abre la boca,” I tell him as I pull the tip of the knife from the fresh wound. He shakes his head vehemently as another stream of piss flows down his leg.
“Mateo, don’t make me ask you again.”
He relents because he knows he doesn’t have a choice in the matter. No level of defiance will save him now, and this will be a much quicker death than being able to see the other side of the room through his flesh.
Leaning back in the chair as best as he can, he opens his mouth, eyes shut tightly, and a prayer loosely on his lips.
“Tell the Devil I’ll be along soon,” I say to him softly as I slip the blade between his traitorous lips and let it rest against the roof of his mouth.
Reaching for the mallet on the table next to us, I pull my arm back, and with all of the strength I can muster, drive the knife up into his skull.
Chapter One
I’m sitting in the bathtub with Mateo’s head in my hands. I’ve washed his hair, cleaned his wounds, and have used my favorite comb to make him presentable. Once I clean him up, I’ll give him to Papa to show him that I did a good job and that he doesn’t have to worry about him anymore.
I clear my throat as I place my finished piece on the side of the bathtub, then take a deep breath as I submerge myself below the water.
Opening my eyes, I welcome the slight sting that accompanies the movement. It bothers me that I wasn’t as hurt