El Santo (Saint-Sinner 1)

I nodded, overwhelmed with emotion from how much he was sharing with me for the first time.

“I need to hear you say the words, Amira. Tell me you know that?” he demanded in a soft tone.

“I do. I know that.” And I did… I always had.

He took a deep breath, the worried expression on his face slowly fading away.

“What happened to you tonight? Why did you say those things to me? Do you mean them?” I asked before I lost the courage, not knowing what I wanted him to answer the most.

I saw it in his stare that he wanted to lie to me. “I had a shitty day, before running into Emilio on my way here. He started to ask questions about Rosarío,” he openly confided.

Suddenly shaking, I asked, “Do you think he knows that I’m—”

“No.”

“But if he’s—”

“Amira, do you trust me?”

“Of course,” I firmly replied.

“Then trust me when I say today had nothing to do with you,” he sincerely voiced, replying to my other question in his own subtle way.

“Damien nor I would ever let anything happen to you. Emilio is just being a nosy bastard. That’s all. Nothing more, nothing less. Mamita, this is your home. We are your family,” Rosarío stated, her eyes welling up with fresh tears, just thinking about what I was going to do. Making me feel worse. “Sometimes people say things they don’t really mean. Families fight. And that’s what we are, Amira. We’re a family. We don’t turn our back on one another. No matter what.”

She was right.

The good.

The bad.

The love…

They were all part of being a family.

Damien’s eyes promptly connected with mine.

And there he was…

My Damien.

“You scared me,” I murmured loud enough for him to hear. “I thought… I thought I’d lost you too. To him.”

He grabbed the doll he brought home for me off the counter. Extending her out for me to take. Immediately reminding me of the night he saved me and every night since.

“Muñeca, I’m so sorr—”

Before he could finish his apology, I ran to him. Throwing my arms around his waist, hugging him as tight as I could. There were just some things that were better left unsaid, and this was definitely one of them. Right then and there, I promised myself that I would never let him scare me like that again. No matter how many times he tried. Now knowing, deep in my heart, that Damien needed me just as much I needed him.

Mi familia.

When he wrapped his protective arms around me and placed a kiss on the top of my head, I expressed, “I love you,” for the first time into the side of his chest. Feeling as though he needed to hear me say it, more now than ever before.

It was only then I truly understood why Damien never asked me about my nightmares…

He didn’t have to.

He lived them too.

“Ricardo and his men should be here soon. You ready?” Emilio questioned, as I took my seat beside him at the conference table.

We were about to have an important meeting in one of the nicer warehouses Salazar owned in downtown Santiago. Emilio had his dirty fucking hands in everything from guns, to drugs, to prostitution. When it came to Emilio Salazar, there wasn’t anything he didn’t own or operate. He knew it all but stayed hidden behind the scenes, orchestrating illegal shit like the puppet master he was. Transporting drugs from country to country with some of most wanted criminals around the world. The possible language barriers never mattered. As soon as Emilio chucked a stack of bills onto the table, suddenly everyone fucking understood each other.

Police, lawyers, the law in general, were all a joke. Pieces of paper he could wipe his ass with. They were all shady as fuck, tucked in his back pocket exactly where he wanted them. It was the small-time shit he involved himself in just for shits and giggles. Another thing to pass his time.

I simply nodded.

“He’s an old colleague of mine, you know. This is the first time we’ll be doing business in forty plus years. He lives in Colombia now, and has ties to all the important people over there. This is huge for us. Do you understand me?”

I nodded again. Mostly because I understood more than he knew.

What really got Salazar’s cock hard was politics. Which was precisely where the biggest corruption existed to begin with. Ricardo was no exception. He was just another connection to another country that Salazar wanted ties with.

“Look who finally graces us with their presence,” Emilio greeted as my father walked in with Pedro and three more of his men.

My father and I locked eyes for a few seconds before he proceeded on his way. He stood in his place behind Salazar while the other men stood guard by the doors. I could still feel his concentrated stare burning a hole on the side of my face like a ticking fucking grenade. We didn’t have any sort of relationship, at least not anymore. We never spoke, leaving so much animosity and unfinished business looming between us. Building up more and more with each passing year, like a raging fire neither one of us could ever extinguish.

I moved into my own apartment a few days following the massacre, after seeing my father for who he really was. He didn’t so much as bat an eye about me leaving, as if he expected it or something. It wouldn’t even surprise me if he didn’t know where I lived.

As far as I was concerned.

Our family died the same day Amira’s did.

It didn’t take long until Ricardo and his two men walked through the double doors. I watched their every move as they made their way to the table. Ricardo stopped to greet Emilio, while his guards sat in the empty chairs in front of me. Leaving the one between them open for their boss. Emilio stood, embracing him in a hug. Both patting each other’s backs, saying it had been too long since they’d seen one another. From an outsider looking in, it appeared as if two old friends were just reuniting and rekindling their friendship.

It was bullshit.

Salazar embraced everyone for two reasons. One, he wanted you to feel like his friend. Unaware that he would slit your fucking throat the second you weren’t of use to him any longer. And two, he wanted to feel around your body and mentally count how many guns you were strapped with. He never told me any of this, it was just one of the many things I observed along the way.

The two of them took their seats and spoke about old times for a few minutes, reminiscing about this and that. Trying to portray the meeting for anything but the political corruption that it was. Then they finally got down to fucking business.

“How many kilos in the crates?” Emilio asked.

“As many as you want,” Ricardo nonchalantly replied, nodding to him.

“I would say no more than ten kilos and ten crates. That’s enough to keep crime going for a few months and the cops busy in Cuba. I want to maintain jobs, not pollute my country.”

“Of course, Salazar. I know it’s always been about the good of the people with you. I can have those transported over here in no time. I’ll get my men on it as soon as I get back. How do you want it shipped over? I can get a private plane with no hassle.”

Emilio shook his head. “It’s too risky. This isn’t the sixties anymore. I have the United States on my ass. They’re watching every flight coming in and out of Cuba. They have been for decades. The Yankee pieces of shit won’t let us live. My people are starving. There is barely any gas for transportation. With Russia struggling, we have no exchange with them anymore. It’s why I’ve turned to drugs. Need to keep some sort of economy going. Something appealing to get those young Yankee motherfuckers to travel to Cuba. I need tourism most of all. You know how word of mouth spreads. The drugs and pussy are always where the money is at. My girls are the best, now the drugs will be too.”

Ricardo nodded, understanding. “I have a few names I can contact in Miami. There are some Feds I know, who I can call in a favor to. I can also reach out to Alejandro Martinez. That son of

a bitch knows everyone. It’s the least I could do.”

“I appreciate that, but now’s not the time. Perhaps it would be something to consider in the future. I think it would be safer if we used boat transportation, during the night. The cargo would need to be unloaded no later than five o’ clock in the morning on the dock. The crates will need safe transportation until they offload at the port. I’ll pay you half now and half when they get delivered.”

“No problem. Whatever you want, my friend. I can make it all happen, Emilio. It’s not about the money. We’re old comrades, I’m here to help you,” Ricardo answered, never taking his eyes off Salazar.

And I never took my stare off Ricardo, sizing him up the whole damn time. Unable to hold my tongue any longer, I casually remarked, “You’re being awfully cooperative for a man known for the exact opposite. From what I hear, you’re nothing but a wolf in sheep’s clothing.”

“I—”

I put my hand up in the air, silencing him. “That wasn’t a question.”

“Damien…” Emilio warned in a tone I didn’t appreciate.

I grinned, glancing over at him. “How does that saying go? Keep your friends close and your enemies’ closer?” Looking back at Ricardo, I continued, “Let’s put it to the test, shall we? You’ve known your old friend Salazar here for quite some time, eh? What did you say it was, Emilio? Forty, forty-five years?”

“Damien, why are you interrogating Ricardo?” Salazar broke in, bringing my attention back to him.

“Just having a friendly conversation with one of your allies. Getting to know him man to man. But just hear me out. It’s about to get good.”

“Emilio, I think we’re done with this meeting. I’ll be in touch,” Ricardo declared as he stood to leave. His men followed suit.

“Before you haul ass, why don’t you tell your old comrade what you were up to on July 24th?

He froze mid-stance, completely caught off guard by my question.

I smiled. “Oh, that got your attention.” I leaned into the table, cocking my head to the side. “Or better yet, next time you try to come in here with your bullshit cooperation, I suggest you cover your tracks. Now, take a seat,” I firmly ordered.

His eyes widened, his mind was spinning as he calculated his next move. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

I stood up from my chair, and placed my hands in my pockets. Walking to the opposite side of the table. Never once breaking eye contact with him. “I don’t? See, I thought we were in the business of making things happen, and the only thing you’ve made happen is setting up your so called friend.”

Ricardo immediately narrowed his eyes at me, taking in my words. “Emilio, I don’t know what this piece of shit is insinuating, but I’ve heard enough. Is this how you run your country now? Allowing your boys to run their mouths, disrespecting your guests? I suggest you tell your bitch to back down before I put a bullet in his head.”

“No disrespect, Ricardo. I don’t know what has come over my soldier, but I will handle it as I see fit,” Emilio chimed in, giving me another warning glare. “It was great catching up. Please give my regards to your family.”

He nodded to Emilio still trying to hold his ground, even though it was caving beneath him. “Till next time, my friend.” With that, he stood, turning his back to us. Ready to leave.

“Ricardo, you didn’t answer my question, so allow me to rephrase,” I calmly stated, stopping him dead in his tracks. “What exactly were you doing on July 24th at the American Embassy?”

He turned around and in three long strides, he was in my face with his gun pulled. Aiming it right between my eyes. Triggering my father to step in front of Salazar and draw his gun with only Ricardo in his sight.

“Again, motherfucker, I don’t know what you’re talking about. I was in Puerto Rico, balls deep in my fucking mistress, if you must know,” he gritted out, getting up in my face.

I didn’t even flinch, unfazed by the cool metal on my forehead. Grinning big and wide, daring him to pull the fucking trigger.

“That’s enough!” Emilio roared, his voice echoing off the walls. “Ramón, back the fuck down! Damien, get the hell out of here! I will deal with you later!”

“But the fun just got started,” I rasped, stepping back and away from him.

Ricardo didn’t waver, redirecting the aim of his gun to my chest. Snidely smiling, thinking he gained the upper hand. I leisurely glanced down, looking at the red laser mark that was now placed over my heart. Grinning as I slowly gazed up through the slits of my eyes. Waiting a few seconds before taking the backs of my fingers and wiping away his target as if it was just a speck of dust.

Mocking him.

“Puerto Rico, eh?” Without any further ado, knowing I got my point across. I reached inside my military jacket, pulling out an envelope from the hidden pocket. “This says otherwise,” I argued, throwing it on the table, spilling out the contents. Pictures and documents lined the surface, laying out the truth of Ricardo’s betrayal.

“What the fuck is all this?” Emilio asked, narrowing his eyes at me. He grabbed onto the most incriminating piece of evidence. A time-stamped photo of Ricardo shaking hands with the Ambassador at the U.S. Embassy in Colombia.

“A picture is worth a thousand words, and that just spoke volumes,” I added, watching as Salazar picked up the document signed by Ricardo, agreeing to help the United States take down Cuban dictator, Emilio Salazar.

“Emilio, I—”

“I’ve known you over forty-years, and you come into my territory with the intentions of betraying me?”

“It’s not what it looks like,” he breathed out, lowering his gun like the pussy he was.

“From the looks of that,” I chimed in, gesturing to the table filled with the evidence, “you were balls deep into plotting his demise.”

With one sweep of his arm, Emilio sent all the papers flying to Ricardo’s feet. Roaring, “You fucking traitor!”

Ricardo shook his head in disbelief, taking in all the proof he needed, knowing he wasn’t getting out of this with any of his bullshit lies. He looked up, meeting Salazar’s menacing glare. “Don’t take it personal. They came to me! Making me an offer I couldn’t refuse.”

“What do they know? What did you give them, you miserable fuck?!” Emilio interrogated, stepping around my father.

There was no hesitation as he grabbed ahold of Ricardo and slammed his head onto the table. Lifting him up again, only to deliver another blow to the side of his face, before ramming him to the floor. Ricardo’s men pulled out their guns, ready to take out Emilio. Our guards intercepted, breaking both men’s arms. Sending them to the ground, reeling in nothing but immediate pain.

“It’s your lucky day, motherfucker. I should put a bullet in your head, but I don’t want your traitor blood on my hands,” Salazar scoffed, spitting in his face. “When everyone finds out about you, your death will be far worse than my fucking bullet.” Emilio walked over to me, watching as Ricardo pitifully tried to stand. “You have till the count of three to get the hell out of here. One… two…”

“Fuck this,” I coldly interrupted, pulling my gun out from the back of my pants, immediately pulling the trigger. Putting a bullet right between Ricardo’s eyes and without giving it a second thought, I targeted his men next.

“Damien, no!” my father yelled as I pulled the trigger once again. Popping another cap into each of their heads.

I shrugged off his order, placing my Glock back into my pants. “There, now their blood is on my hands,” I callously stated, walking toward the doors. Not once looking back. Fully aware of what I would see in my father’s eyes.

I didn’t have the time, nor did I care about anymore of his bullshit lies.

“Ramón, call your men to have this cleaned up. I need to have a word with your son,” I overheard Emilio demand from behind me, but I continued on, pushing through the double doors of the warehouse, out to the parking lot.

I was

prepared to hear his fucking wrath, conscious of the fact that he was trailing behind me. Most likely wanting to lecture me about my short fuse and temper. How I needed to reel it in, like he always did. I waited, leaning against the hood of my car with my arms folded over my chest. Never expecting what happened next.

“How did you know about Ricardo?” Salazar inquired as soon as we were face to face.

I peered him dead in the eyes and simply answered, “Instinct.”

His gaze intensified. An expression I’d never seen before quickly crept across his face. It was only when he followed it up with, “Thank you,” that I grasped it as gratitude.

I gave him a curt nod in response, mostly because how the fuck did I reply to that…

“I mean that, Damien. I never pegged Ricardo as a threat. You saved my ass.”

“I did what I had to do. Don’t make it into something it’s not.”

“I know you’re not happy serving in the military. So here is your one and only chance to back away. What do you want in life? Tell me.”

Never in my wildest dreams did I think I would have the option to choose. The answer left my mouth faster than the question left his. “The law. I want to be an attorney.”

He smiled, gripping onto my shoulder, with pride and honor radiating off him. “Ahhh… following in my footsteps. I couldn't be prouder, you want to be an attorney like me. After what I just saw, there’s not a doubt in my mind that I could use you for far greater things. Consider it done. I’ll be in touch with your enrollment and course load.” Without another word, he got in his limo and left.

Leaving me there with only my scattered thoughts. I contemplated life for what seemed like the hundredth goddamn time. If it wasn’t about Amira, it was about Emilio. Neither one of them were ever far from my mind. Two opposite ends of the spectrum where both of them were completely wreaking havoc on my whole fucked up life. Which once again took another drastic turn in a matter of minutes. I would never say that Amira was a burden, but she also wasn’t my choice. Exactly the same way Salazar wasn’t one either.