Straightening, I look out over the boats bobbing in the water. It’s a windy day, the water rough.
The man talking to Dante points to a slip where a boat is missing. Dante nods, takes his wallet out of his pocket. He pulls out some bills and folds them over. He places them into the man’s hand who looks around before taking the money.
I turn and walk across the lot to Jacob’s body lying on the ground. Gunshot to the head. They weren’t messing around. He probably died instantly. I feel his pockets searching for his phone. I find it in his breast pocket. It’s password protected, which I knew it would be. Charlie can take care of that though. I tuck it away for later.
On the ground I find a discarded zip tie. Bending, I pick it up. It’s been cut but I can’t help but wonder if it had bound Scarlett. If she stood here and watched her uncle murdered. One more murder committed before her eyes.
“Cristiano,” Dante calls out.
I turn to watch him as he closes the last bit of space between us, only sparing Jacob a careless glance down. Jacob’s death is not a loss.
“Thanks for coming out so quickly,” I tell him. I know how he feels about Scarlett. He’s doing this for me.
“They take what belongs to you, they take from me. We’re family, brother. Family first, like Dad said.”
I put a hand on his shoulder. “Thank you.” I gesture to the old man. “Find anything out?”
“Boat that stood there was the Laura Lee. Retired fishing boat the owner has rented out to an anonymous party a half-dozen times.”
“What’s the capacity?”
“Will carry about twenty, twenty-four people.”
“And the anonymous party?” I ask, watching the old man who’d been talking to Dante watch us. As soon as he sees my eyes on him, he lowers his and walks quickly away.
“Mexicans.” He holds up a battered old phone I know isn’t his. “But he’s got a GPS tracker on it.”
I peer at the screen, watch the little red dot in the middle of the ocean.
“Pick up the girl,” I tell two of my men. We can try to figure out who she was at least. “We’ll dump De La Cruz in the ocean. Let the fish get at him. Let’s go get my wife.”
4
Scarlett
Darkness has fallen and it’s quiet. The engine stopped about an hour ago and we’re bobbing on the water. I don’t know why we’ve stopped. I heard some of the men on the deck cursing but it’s fairly quiet now.
I glance to the girl beside me. She finally fell asleep. I manage to get the jacket off my back and cover her at least a little. Not that it’ll be much help against the chill or what just happened to her. You can’t warm up the cold inside you after something like that. I know.
I lean back and stare up at the ceiling.
A few years ago, I came upon Diego, Angel and Marcus talking to men I’d never seen before—men who looked a lot like those who’d entered this room earlier today. There’d been three of them in the large, unused garage on the property—one of Marcus’s father’s properties. More of a small warehouse than a garage for cars.
In addition to the men, there were six women. When I’d first seen them, I’d hidden and looked in from one of the broken windows. I guess some part of me knew to keep quiet.
The women were naked apart from shoes. Which strikes me as strange now considering none of us have shoes on, but most are at least somewhat clothed.
These women stood lined up against the wall, hands bound and hooked on chains hanging from the ceiling. I remember thinking that’s how to hang an animal’s carcass. They had on makeup that made them look almost cartoon-like in its application. They were all standing on tiptoe, even though each wore very high heels. And though none were crying, they all looked like they’d been crying for days.
My brothers were taking photographs of the women and discussing them like they were pieces of meat. Discussing how much each could bring in.
I’d moved then, stepping on a branch or dead leaves. It wasn’t a loud sound, but it happened the instant they’d all stopped talking. Before I could even try to run or hide, someone grabbed me and dragged me inside that terrible place.
I remember feeling confused when I first saw my brother’s faces. They wore guilty expressions, like they’d been caught. Found out. I remember thinking maybe they had a little bit of humanity in them. A little bit of conscience. I was mistaken, though.
I guess I hadn’t quite put it together yet, what they intended to do to the women. How they were being sold, bid on in an on-line auction in real time as we stood there. It was sick. But I wasn’t sure my brothers wouldn’t do the same to me.
Except, I was valuable then. Like I am now. Then, they could use me to cement their place with Marcus Rinaldi. By then Marcus had already been going around his father, he and my brothers testing the waters, I guess.
But what they did when they caught me was worse than any physical punishment they could inflict upon me.
I look over at the girl whimpering in her sleep. At least I hope she’s asleep. While the events of that night years ago play in vivid color across my mind’s eye.
It was Diego’s idea. He had a cruelty in him even Marcus didn’t come close to. He was the oldest of my brothers and I think my father leaving his mother to marry mine and Noah’s was something he never let go of.
Diego asked me to choose a girl. He’d been almost casual about it. Wearing a smile I hadn’t trusted in years.
I’d refused at first, telling him to punish me. Not them. Begging him to. I wasn’t sure what they’d do to the chosen girl, but I was certain it wouldn’t be good.
He’d told me again to choose. That it was either one or all.
So, I chose.
Because one was better than six, wasn’t it?
God. I feel sick. I wipe my face on my shoulder, but salty tears still slide down my cheeks and into my mouth.
He didn’t use a gun. It would have been bad enough if he’d used a gun, but he wanted to make a more lasting impression.
I’d seen a blood bath before then. Seen the aftermath of my parents’ murders. But what Diego did next, I think it’s what changed me. Broke something inside me. It’s knowing it was me who chose her. Who condemned her.
And he made sure I’d never get involved again.
I don’t wish I could forget that night. I owe it to that girl to remember. She died because of me.
I still hear her screams some nights. Still see my brother’s rage as he wielded the crowbar down on her knees, shattering them. Then moved to her elbows as she hung there, helpless and in agony. Calculated and cruel, he beat her to death while we all watched. And all along, I knew she was dying because of me.
Just like this girl was raped because of me. I guess Marcus took that page out of Diego’s playbook.
I turn onto my side, wincing with pain when I do. Marcus lined the front of my body with his belt. From my chest down, he used his belt to lash every inch of me, that terrible man holding me up, shouting at Marcus when the leather caught him, too.
I didn’t scream. Not once. I know it only made him angrier, but I couldn’t give him that. He stole my tears though. Those I couldn’t help. At least the women quieted. Although what happened to them was a hundred times worse than what he did to me. A thousand times.