Queen of Nothing

We parked the car on the side of the road halfway into the grass and made our way out into the thick clearing of trees. We walked mostly in silence for a few minutes before reaching the hidden trailer, Ronan understood how I felt about having to come here. It was one of those things where it was best to just get in and out, keep it brief.

“You should probably stay out here; God knows she’s probably not even dressed and is very likely passed out drunk. She’s not going to be thankful about any of this, so don’t expect it,” I said to him shaking my head as I pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“Yell if you need anything,” he said, pulling me in and kissing me deeper before he let me go.

I climbed up the trailer steps and opened the door, immediately the overwhelming stench of shit and death engulfed my senses. I was taken back to the torture sessions against the Cártel’s enemies Papá would force me to participate in.

I was twelve the first time he had me kill a man.

“Mija, if I was to let this Hijo de puta free the first thing he would do is rape you and then kill you. Your responsibility in this life is to be the one left standing, siempre.” His lip curled back, and a darkness shadowed over his eyes as he handed me the blade. He stood back and watched as I mercilessly stabbed a stranger in the stomach over and over like a savage, until his insides were promising to fall on my brand new white adidas.

I shuddered the memory away with a cough as I removed my cardigan and wrapped it around my face to shield me from the odor coming from the bedroom. I was here four days ago with groceries and tequila, so she’s probably been dead for at least three days. It definitely smelled like three days. What the hell Jamila!I thought to myself as I clenched my fists, anger turned my heart to stone at the thought of my Mamá’s cowardice. Though I wasn’t even surprised that she was dropping out of the fight so early and leaving me all alone in this world.

I fought back the tears and opened the bedroom door, the unexpected waiting for me. I dropped to my knees, a hearty sob leaving my chest at what I found. My Mamá’s throat had been slit open, her camisole ripped, and the five-petal flower that was the Flóres Cártel symbol had been carved on her chest. Her legs had been tied to the bed, I guess they didn’t realize she couldn’t put up a fight. On the wall next to her bed her blood wrote,”¿Donde estas Reína? -Where are you, Queen?”

I made my way to my Mamá’s side and gazed down at her lifeless corpse. Even in death she was more beautiful than most. Her long hair was black and straight like mine, and her full lips were a dark purple hue fit for a corpse. Her dark indigenous skin was already pale and colorless as if the sun God had never blessed her at all. She was dead, and it was both a relief, and a new burden entirely. For a few minutes I allowed the tears to fight for their chance to fall as I grieved the finality of my family. It was a mess in the room, which made me wonder if there was something my Tio had been looking for while he was here. I glanced at my Mamá again.

What were you hiding from him Jamilla?

What cost you your life?

I shifted my gaze over to her bedside vanity and found her box of jewels containing a few of the gifts from my Papáfrom over the years. She obnoxiously insisted I retrieve them from TiaLarissa’s house after the drive-by. I opened it up to reveal the velvety blue pillow containing a plethora of obnoxious diamond rings and earrings with more carats than I could probably guess. I pocketed them and turned my eyes to the small drawer in the bottom of the box. Once I pulled it out it revealed the prize I’d been seeking, the rose gold chain with a matching pendant of the same flower carved into my Mamá’s chest.

I pulled it and the tufted velvet lining of the drawer lifted up with the necklace, revealing a small silver key underneath. I put both items in my empty pocket and took one last look at my Mamá- her brown eyes, once so rich and alluring, were now dull and lackluster. I kissed the tips of my fingers before using them to close her eyelids.

I whispered as I made my way into the tiny kitchen and propped open the door of the two-burner range. I turned the gas on and left it running as I searched for something flammable that might be handy. The smell of death was making it impossible to think straight though, so I made my way out of the trailer for some fresh air and called out for Ronan.

“Do you have a lighter?” I asked, tears flooding my face without my permission.

He brought his eyebrows together but the question he was clearly thinking didn’t leave his lips. He fished for the lighter out of his pocket and tossed it my way, his eyebrows still furrowed patiently waiting for an explanation.

“I’m gonna burn it down,” I answered casually as I unwrapped the cardigan from my face, folding it into a small bundle and lighting it on fire.

“What? Are you crazy?” he rushed over to me to try to stop me from lighting the fabric on fire, but I pushed him away.

mierdaso we can go.” I picked up a heavy rock and threw it against the trailer window and it shattered without any trouble. The cardigan began to burn in my hand, so I quickly hurled it into the broken window.

Ronan didn’t ask anything anymore, and I could feel the rift splitting us apart from the millions of lies and unanswered questions between us. We ran through the trees, and I waited to hear the explosion before I climbed into the passenger side of his black Charger.

We sat in silence for the twenty-minute ride back into the city to his two-bedroom apartment, my hands were sweating with uncertainty for the future and the mixture of rage and fear colliding inside of me.

Ignácio, he’d taken everythingfrom me.

It had only been a few days after I disposed of my Mamá, and I was usually alone now. Ronan was mostly out of the house aside from quick pop-ins to shower, change, and sometimes sleep. We were going through the motions but the weight in my chest told me if I didn’t open up my box of deceptions this would be the end of us.

The timing of it all didn’t help either. Ronan and Santo had been working on the foundation for something big. Something that would make it so that we could stop the dozens of different illegal runs a week with minor payouts, and focus on one thing at a time – most likely guns. I tried pushing the idea of moving weed, since the Cártel almost always had a hand in any weapons traveling through the west coast. It was nearly impossible to make a case while trying to convey naivety and ignorance in the subject though. It was a fight I couldn’t win. Weapons simply cashed out bigger, and money talked loudly.

I was sitting on our beat-up leather couch watching Friends reruns on daytime television when Santo came bursting in through the door cheering and whooping.

“We made it big Chica!” He danced into the room shouting and laughing as he squeezed me in a tight embrace, kissing my cheek as he lifted me off the floor.

“What happened? Where’s Ronan?” I looked out of the apartment door for him but couldn’t find him in sight.

“He’s moving the car out of the closed garage spot so we can hide the van.”

“The van?” I asked, not understanding what he was saying because we certainly did not have a van. Before he could answer I was already making my way out of the door and running down the stairs to find Ronan pulling a black van into our closed garage parking spot. I waited for him to come out of the driver’s side with my arms crossed. I knew I had no place for interrogations, so I waited for him to offer up information willingly.

“Santo’s cousin Guillermo gave us a tip for a tradeoff that was guaranteed to go south. We set up and waited for them. Once the guns stopped going off, we took the van and high-tailed it out of there before the cops showed up. It’s gotta be at least a hundred thousand dollars in guns alone, I haven’t counted the cash in the briefcases yet!” he said breathlessly, a giant smile painting his face as he opened the trunk to show me the loot.

He had this nervous look on his face like he was waiting for judgment, and I tried to feign the illusion of it but this was my world, and he was just now finally emerging into it. If I was supposed to be shocked, I was probably failing at it. That was, until the trunk opened, and I fought the acid rising at the back of my throat as I eyeballed dozens of black gun cases with the five-petal flower crest on them.

came out of my mouth before I could stop it, but he didn’t notice.

Ronan smiled widely at me, “This is the end of all of our troubles.” He lulled in my ear as he put his arm over my shoulder and I realized our expiration found us just as my Papá had predicted, maybe just not how he planned.