Mobbed Up Love

“You did all this for a dance?” I ask confused.

“To start with. A nice side bonus will be pissing Diaz off,” he says. I need to keep him talking. The glint in his eye tells me he’s going to kill me. The fact that he wants to piss Albie off means he’s going to leave my dead body somewhere easily found.

“Are you still getting married?” I ask.

“Of course. I can’t stand her though. She’s not even pretty like you. She just wants what I can buy her,” he says bitterly.

“That’s not good,” I say getting a good look around the room. There is nothing I can use as a weapon.

“What do you see in Diaz, huh? He’s exactly like me, but I’m richer.” Doubtful. Alberto is everything wonderful and kind, despite his job. I can’t imagine any of the Diaz’s kidnapping a woman for any purpose. They value women too much.

“I love him, Richey. Can’t you understand that?” I ask. I don’t want my last words on Earth to be begging this piece of shit to let me live.

“I can, but it just makes this that much easier,” he says. What easier? I am starting to lose my cool, but I know that I need to keep it together to get out of this mess alive.

“You know you don’t have to marry her.” He laughs loudly.

“It is what it is. She is my albatross. I didn’t exactly bring you here for therapy, Destiny.” I don’t think this guy actually knows anything about me. He keeps calling me Destiny. I almost laugh out loud, but I keep it in. “Dance for me before I get bored and kill you now,” he says. I need to get close enough to him to kill him first.

“I won’t dance for you, Richey.”

“Bitch, did I not make myself clear?”

“Oh, you did. But I don’t negotiate with wannabe gangsters.” I watch his bloated face flush red with anger. His large, sweaty hand goes around my throat. He pulls my filthy white blouse open with the other and rips it from my body.

“I am going to have so much fun destroying your body before I kill you. I may even be generous and let my boys have their way too,” he says, spittle flying in my face as he does.

I smile. His movements have caused his jacket to move back and I see that he has guns holstered to both sides of his body. I pull one slowly from its place and flick the safety off like I’ve been handling guns my entire life. I actually learned that from a tv show. The gun feels cool and heavy in my hand. Foreign even, but somehow so right. I could have just threatened him, but instead, I shoot him in the head without warning. Given our close proximity, I am not at all prepared for the fine mist of blood along with bits of brain that come flying at me. I hate that I am breathing it in, but I have no choice. The world is a better place now and his poor fiancée never has to put up with his shit, I rationalize with myself. I grab the other gun just before the door bursts open and Richey falls to the ground.

“Richey, man. You okay?” That’s all I need to know that these men are with him. I hop over Richey. I can’t stand that I even touched him, but it really was a means to an end. The man looks around the room, presumably assessing the situation at hand.

“No, Richey is not okay,” I say slowly as the goon pulls his gun. I aim the gun and squeeze the trigger. It’s almost like I’m having an out of body experience. I drop each man who enters the dingy room with a bullet. I’m calmer than I ever have been before. I find it amazing that my body knows what to do. Finally, no more men come into the room. I am shaking with the adrenaline coursing through my veins. There are bodies and so much blood everywhere. So. Much. Blood. I almost can’t believe I did this. I move back over to Richey and dig in his pockets until I find his cell phone. I dial my mom. I have no idea where my things are and hers is the only number I have memorized. She picks up on the second ring.

“Hello?”

“Mama. I—”

“Autumn,” she screeches. “Alberto, it’s Autumn.” I hear some rustling.

“Lolita,” he shouts. “Where are you?”

“I-I don’t know. Albie, please come find me. I did something terrible.”

“I’ll find you. Leave this line open. Talk to me. Ryan, trace this number, quick as you can. You still there, Lolita?”

“I’m here,” I say. Shouldn’t I be feeling some shock or something? I feel invigorated like I could do this all over again.