I’m too damn confused and all of sudden I find myself without the strength to think about anything, let alone speak. I just need a break. God, please, give me a fucking break.
“Here,” Ricardo says as he hands me a Corona. “You look like you may need this pussy shit.” He adds, chuckling at his own words. Fuck you, asshole. You don’t know nothing about me.
I want to punch his damn face, but he’s right. I need it after what I discovered a few minutes before. So, I grab it, taking a long draught as I watch him rummaging through the cabinets, cursing when he can’t find whatever he’s looking for.
“Coño, this girl only has beers and cokes,” he mutters in disgust, shaking his head as finally he pulls a Corona from the fridge, sighing in defeat.
I can’t help myself and a slight grin tugs my lips.
You may be Hanna’s friend or whatever the fuck you are for her, but I’m still her man and inside this house you have to drink what I drink. Period. So I guess its pussy shit or nothing, fucker.
Ricardo kills his beer in one draught and leaves the empty bottle on the counter, wiping his lips with the back of his hand. Then he pulls a pack of cigarettes out, lighting one. Blowing the smoke through his nose, he leans against the counter.
“Where’s my girl?” he asks me, taking a deep puff. In response, I knit a brow, fixing him with a cold gaze.
I guess he read the expression on my face because he chuckles, rolling his eyes.
“Don’t go all fucking territorial, pal,” he replies, grinning. “It’s a little late for that shit.” He adds as his grin dies on his lips.
Just when I’m about to send big dark guy to hell, I hear the door of the house slamming open and Hanna’s heels running towards us. Ricardo glances at me for a second as he put his cigarette out, grinning.
In two seconds, Hanna enters the kitchen, throwing herself at him with such force that he almost loses his balance. I narrow my eyes, tightening my jaw when I watch how Ricardo lifts her from the floor as Hanna’s legs and arms wrap around his body, whimpering.
I feel a pang of pain stabbing my heart when she breaths his name, sobbing, her face buried in his neck. He shots me a hard gaze, as if he’s fighting back the urge to kill me and for a second I have no doubt he would tear me apart if he weren’t busy now.
“It’s ok, princess, Richie is here and he will take care of his girl,” he whispers gently, stroking her back and hair as he pulls himself away from the counter, walking with Hanna in his arms. “Don’t hide from me, princess, let it go.” He adds, kissing her hair. Hanna whimpers as she holds him even tighter, crying louder. “That’s it, Hanna, let it go, princess, let it go.”
I narrow my eyes as I watch their display in front of my eyes. Hanna is crying like I’ve never seen her before, not even inside the lift after our mess with Reynaldo at his club. Hanna’s crying is unrestrained and all of sudden she seems so small and fragile in his arms.
There’s no trace of the Ice Queen while Ricardo is holding her, soothing her as Hanna keeps crying her eyes out, sobbing loudly.
I’m not even here for her or at least that’s how I feel. I’ve been forgotten and I don’t know what to do with myself.
Ricardo is whispering gentle words in Spanish, like he’s speaking to a little girl, climbing the stairs, heading toward her bedroom. I can still hear her sobbing until the door closes.
Shit! What was that?
I should be the one holding her; I should be the one comforting her after what she went through but I’m not the one doing that and the sensation is starting to get the best of me.
Hanna didn’t even look at me when she entered the kitchen; she went directly to Ricardo, ignoring my presence, letting me know that I’m not the one who she would look for when she needs a shoulder to cry anymore.
All of a sudden the kitchen seems half the size and I can’t breathe normally. I’m starting to feel suffocated inside the walls and, once again, I find myself forcing the air to pass through my lungs. Fuck it! I need to get out of here.
I grab my keys, storming out the house when I come to a stop, my eyes widening in seconds. Holy shit!
There’s a black Harley flashing at me right at the entrance of the house. Ricardo’s. That’s how Hanna knew he was inside. It’s a classic model that had been customized, to suit his taste. I have no other choice but to admit to myself that it’s more than beautiful, it’s almost breathtaking. Dark guy spent a few grand on his ride, that’s for sure.
I blink a couple of times, bringing myself back to reality and getting in my car. I need to get out of here.
I’ve been here sitting, staring at the ocean with Hanna’s picture between my fingers. I don’t even know how long I’ve been here and I don’t care too much right now. I only know my eyes hurt after I’ve been crying for what seems like forever. A baby…my baby…
Why the fuck didn’t she tell me? Was she planning to raise my kid with Ricardo? Was she trying to make big dark guy pass for my son’s father?
Hanna’s words back in Lompoc are echoing faintly inside my brain as her eyes flashed me with that deep sadness.
“I wanted to die the day I lost….”
I sigh hard, cleaning my cheeks when fresh tears roll down. I don’t know why I even bother wiping them away; it seems I have endless tears all ready to fall.
Now I have my answer. I wondered what was causing that deep pain in her gaze, why her eyes didn’t sparkle anymore like they used to. I guess I have my damn answer. How the fuck were they going to sparkle like stars?
I figure the day she lost the baby, he took with him her brightness. How could it have been any other way?
A vision of Pette rubbing the rounded belly of his wife pops inside my mind, spreading a whole new sensation. I had forced myself to tear my eyes off him as he played with his kids, knowing what that vision was doing to me.
My God, locked in prison, watching Pette’s wife pregnant was hurting me silently because I suspect I was never going to know how it would feel, but now. This is even worse.
Hanna was pregnant with my baby boy. My son. Dominic.
My fingers trace the outline of that little bump showing slightly under my red t-shirt, wishing with all my heart and soul that it wasn’t just a damn picture. Staring at Hanna’s eyes, I feel my heart starting to race as I take a ragged breath, forcing the air past the lump in my throat.
I saw her the other night, stroking her now flat belly while staring out at the night city lights, lost in thought, her beautiful eyes brimming with unshed tears. And all of sudden, I realize that vision and this picture have more things in common than I suspected. However, there’s one thing missing. My son.
How damn stupid have I been? I thought I lost important things when I became an inmate. My job, my car, my team, my woman… just one more time where I thought about me alone. How fucking selfish; I’ve been oblivious to the fact that Hanna had lost much more than me.
I had no idea, that’s true, but that fact is not making me feel better. I don’t know why and I can’t help myself, but I’m feeling guilty. I can’t push aside the bizarre sensation that I failed Hanna by not being with her while she went through that painful loss. Once again, Hanna faced a horrible experience alone without me around to comfort her.
I didn’t know she was pregnant with our little Dominic.
How naïve I was, thinking the basement would be the only room that wouldn’t bring memories back. Damn. I guess my curiosity was satiated, but once again, the price was too high.
For a whole damn year I was licking my wounds, feeling hopeless and powerless because I was locked in prison. Feeling pity for myself and the loss of my sorry excuse for a life while Hanna was here as alone as I was and surviving after the loss of our baby.
I close my eyes, crying silently, shaking almost violently. I don’t care if someone can see me, crying like there’s no tomorrow. I don’t give a damn if I look like a weak pussy. I’m not that strong. I’m just a man. For God’s sake! How much shit am I going to have to face? I can’t take it anymore.
I already lost my dad and my mom. I lost Vince who was my best friend and Jesse who was like my kid brother. I lost everything I had, everything. Last night I lost my woman and now….
I punch the steering wheel with all my force as I break completely.
God, why do you hate me so much? Why are you punishing me this way? Fuck! Have I been that bad person that I deserve this? What bad have I ever done to you, God? What bad my baby did to you, fucker?
You took away my son before I even had the chance to meet him, even before I had the damn chance to know about his existence. Why? Tell me why the fuck you killed my son?
I feel my heart aching and my breath is ragged. My hand hurts like a son of a bitch and I look at it, gritting my teeth. I’m panting and sweating as I realize I’ve been punching the steering wheel with such rage that my knuckles are bleeding.
I don’t care about anything anymore. I’m done with you, fucker. Don’t expect anything from me, God, because we’re done. I’ll be damned forever but I don’t care. I don’t fucking care anymore. I hate you and I hope my soul will burn in hell. Fuck you, God! I hate you, fucker! And if I cross paths with you, I swear by all I’m worth I will kill you.
I take several short breaths, trying to regain my calm as I shut my eyes tightly, swallowing hard. I feel my heart about to explode inside my chest and forcing the air to pass through my lungs, I take a ragged breath. Just then, my cell phone rings.
“Yeah,” I answer, still panting lightly.
“Where are you, Dom?” Reynaldo’s voice sounds at the other side of the line. “Miguel told you to not leave the yacht.” He adds, his voice sounds menacing and hard.
“Fuck you, brother,” I reply, coldly. “Never was good at dealing with orders, you know?”
Reynaldo laughs dryly. “That’s what I like the most about you, Dom. Now come to the club, we have business to take care of.” He says, hanging up the phone.
I don’t even think twice, starting my car, I pull away from the beach, driving to ‘La Cueva’, wishing that sick bastard needs to kill somebody and praying silently he lets me do the damn job, so I can keep going down, following the path that leads directly to hell. There won’t be any salvation for me and honestly, I don’t give a fucking shit anymore.
Inside the club the music is blaring and the lights are up, but there’s no wannabe richies around or chicks, just Reynaldo’s men and all of them have earphones so as to be in constant contact.
Miguel comes, looking for me as he guides me to a room across from Rey’s office. I can’t help but grin when I see how the fucker is dressed. White suit pants and black chemise. This sick bastard has no taste.
Reynaldo looks like one of those playboys that are always in the tabloids. He even has a thick golden chain hanging from his neck with a big crucifix made of diamonds. I bet that shit cost him more than my car. Damn, he really has lousy taste. I guess there are still things like class and style that money can’t buy after all.
Reynaldo glances at me from the corner of his eye as he pulls up his smokey sunglasses. His eyes are flashing with an evil gaze I remember seeing many times when I was younger. A shudder runs up my spine, making my heart speed its rhythm. I suspect what it means. The bastard is about to kill somebody.
I look around myself and apart from his men there’s a guy sitting in a chair, his hands and ankles are tied up and he has a black hood covering his head. He’s naked, a small pool of blood under his body, several cuts marring his legs, his chest and his arms. One of Rey’s men snatches off the hood and the man blinked furiously, whimpering through the gag he wears.
I swallow hard, frowning deeply as Reynaldo lit a cigarette, taking a deep puff. His men remove the gag and Rey walks toward him, blowing the smoke directly at the end of the cigarette, making the ashes come to life, burning red.
The man starts to beg through clenched teeth, asking for forgiveness. Reynaldo chuckles, shaking his head. He’s circling the guy, talking about loyalty, family and respect, while smoking.
Reynaldo’s men are following his boss’ moves, never taking their gaze off him, grinning like fucking loonies. All of then seem to be enjoying Rey’s little speech. I have no other choice but to admit that this sick fucker has a way with words. He sounds like a damn poet as he paces back and forth consumed by the sound of his own voice. I bet he loves to hear himself talking surrounded by such a devoted audience.
I’m not interested in what he’s saying at all, so while he’s still prattling, my eyes wander, taking in other details.
Two of his monkeys have black leather gloves. Shit. I’ve seen those on one occasion. Vince showed them to me once in a magazine, making jokes about how he had to get a pair for himself. Those damn gloves have some kind of steel coating inside.
I narrow my eyes; tightening my jaw as Rey ends his damn speech and nodding curtly the two fuckers start to punch that poor bastard, showing no mercy.
They are going to tear him apart. The sound of what seems to be a couple of ribs being broken echoes around the room and the guy starts bleeding through his lips.
I notice my own hands closing in fists, watching them beat him with those gloves as Rey glances at me, grinning, lifting a hand, making his men stop.
The guy winces, hissing in pain, panting hard. I suspect he’s not going to last much longer. I bet they’ve already pierced a lung with one of his broken ribs, but he’s still alive. I wonder how much time this sick bastard is going to keep torturing the guy, but at the same time, I’m surprised to find that I want to kill him myself. And I’m not sure if it’s because I want to know how it feels or to put an end to this pointless craziness.
I find myself face to face with Reynaldo and the fucker seems to read my thoughts.
“Wanna give him the coup de grace?” Reynaldo asks me, grinning evilly. I knit a brow, staring at him.
I guess Reynaldo Knows what I’m thinking and he has his answer because he hands me a gun, without lifting his evil gaze from mine.
“Who is he?” I ask, narrowing my eyes. Reynaldo shrugged his shoulders.
“What do you care? He’s just a worthless shit who deserves to die.” He says evenly, not a trace of emotion in his cold voice.
I glance at the poor bastard who has pissed on his seat. He’s shaking badly, panting and sweating.
Would I be able to kill this guy? A few hours ago the answer would have been a resounding ‘NO’.
The more time I spent locked in Lompoc the less faith I had in human beings or their salvation. There was one single thing that still kept me from falling apart completely and it was the fact I believed in God and his decisions. I trusted blindly in God’s plan, trusting that the fucker knew what he was doing. Until now.
I grab the gun, flicking off the safety as I walk up to the guy, stopping right in front of his face. He tenses slightly as he forces his head to rise, making eye contact with me. I lift the gun, pointing at his forehead and his eyes widen in panic just to flash me with an emotion I recognize too damn well a second later.
This poor bastard is accepting his fate without fighting back. He knows he’s already dead and he doesn’t seem to care anymore. I have the bizarre sensation we both are sharing right now the same feelings.
“Do it, puto,” he hisses weakly through bloody lips as he spit out on my shirt.
This poor bastard and I are beyond salvation and our fates are linked by an invisible lace that reflects how absurd our current situation has become. We both are damned, fucked and lost, and what is worse, neither of us cares anymore.
I close my eyes for a second as a vision of Hanna stroking her belly spreads inside my mind. Her eyes are so sad I want to scream. I can hear her hoarse voice whispering gentle words to our son as she keeps rubbing that little bump under my shirt. Just at that moment, I feel a hand squeezing my shoulder and strangely I feel comforted by that hand and the words whispered a breath away from my ear.
“Join me and we’ll rule in hell.”
I open my eyes, fixing my gaze on the guy. And all of sudden the pain that was stabbing my heart, killing me silently isn’t there anymore, and if it’s still there, at least, I don’t feel it.
All I feel is my soul dying slowly, taking with it the unbearable emptiness and loneliness I was feeling. I guess what Lompoc couldn’t make of me, God did. That fucker turned me into a heartless cold bastard.
The little faith in God I still had, extinguished this morning after I knew he took away my son from my woman’s womb. I don’t want my soul rising to heaven anymore and sure as hell I’m not interested in my salvation either. I’ll be damned forever and I’m fucking happy knowing my wish will be granted.
Hanna’s eyes are brimming with unshed tears. Those beautiful green eyes, grayish sparks around the pupils are staring at mine hopeless and powerless. “…Dominic…,” she breathes, smiling sadly. I swallow hard as a deep growl escapes my lips.
Now I understand what Hanna meant saying her soul was dirty, I guess mine is too.
Sorry, Hanna, I’m not that strong, baby…
That’s my last coherent thought before I pull the trigger.
“I knew you had it in you, Toretto.” Reynaldo’s voice sounds faintly inside my brain. I turn around, the gun still tightly gripped in my hand as I point it at him.
“What’s stopping me if I want to kill you, Rey?” I ask him coldly. Reynaldo arches a brow, his eyes flickering to mine in anticipation and excitement.
“Nothing,” he replies, a small grin tugging at his lips. “Death is my woman, and I’ve been fucking her each and every single night since I arrived in this damn country.” He adds as his sickly grin widens, his bedeviled eyes sparkling with a dark gleam.
I chuckle at that. I know he’s not shitting me and he knows it to. This bastard fucks Death each night as if she was his woman. Now that’s fucking funny because I haven’t got a woman anymore, and since Rey already fucked my woman… I wonder if he would share his with me?
“Who was that fucker?” I ask him, putting the safety on, handing him back the gun. Reynaldo’s grin dies on his lips as his gaze hardens.
“Lorenzo.” He replies as he chuckles sadly. “Come on, Dom, lets talk about business,” he says, turning around, heading toward the door.
Damn! I glance at the corpse one last time, narrowing my eyes. I have killed Lorenzo Casamajor, Rey’s older brother. This sick bastard had ordered his men to torture and beat the shit out of his own blood brother?!
As I follow Reynaldo out of the club, I realize about one bizarre sensation; I don’t feel guilty after killing Rey’s bro. In fact, I don’t feel nothing at all. Fuck! I figure I’ve been promoted to devil’s right hand.
I can’t help but wonder what Hanna will think about what I’ve done, and chuckling silently I get my own answer. I don’t fucking care. Fuck it!
Since I’m already in hell, I should start thinking about how I’m going to fuck up Reynaldo’s life forever. Hmmm. Now that’s an interesting goal. Yeah, to begin with, how about if I start fucking Rey’s woman. Who knows? Maybe she will end up choosing me instead of Rey.
I grin wickedly as I kept thrusting into her wet hot pussy. She’s moaning my name loudly as she begs for me to fuck her harder and faster. I don’t need to be asked twice, I’m here to oblige after all. The chick is crying so loud that she’s starting to get on my nerves.
I frown deeply, trying to remember her name, but for the life of me I can’t remember shit right now. My mind is a mess of visions and faces. I don’t even know how many hours I’ve been here surrounded by chicks. All I know is I’ve been doing line after line of coke, killing bottles of tequila and fucking chicks hand over hand with my little sick friend, Reynaldo.
My body is covered in sweat and my brain is spinning. I figure that the explosive cocktail of coke, speed and weed is not helping me either and all of sudden I find myself having a hard time focusing my mind on one thought at a time.
I notice hands and lips all over my body, stroking, licking and sucking. Not that I’m complaining though. I’m having the time of my life since I got into Reynaldo’s black limo. Each and every time, I’ve come hard and my dick seems a little numb. No wonder. Some redhead chick poured coke on its head and started sucking the shit out of me. Very talented and a natural redhead though.
Reynaldo may not have taste in clothes, but the fucker knows what he’s doing regarding chicks. All of them are stunning and breathtaking.
I shudder violently, coming hard one more time, collapsing on top of a chick with long black hair, I’ve been riding her as if she was a damn runaway mare. Her hair is still inside my fists as I pull out of her, rolling onto my back. Fuck, I’m so high I don’t think I’ll be able to come back down any time soon.
My heart is racing as I take several short breaths, trying to catch some oxygen. The huge suite stinks with the smell of rough sex, tequila and cannabis, all mixed with sweat and cheap perfume.
I turn my head to one side and my eyes widen completely in seconds at the vision in front of me. Damn, damn, damn. What a hell of a show is taking place a few feet from me.
Some chicks face is buried between Crystal’s legs as she’s blowing the blondie kid from Rey’s party. That alone is enough to make my dick twitch, asking for some more action. But the shocking part is at the other side of the wannabe richie. Now that intell wasn’t in Miss FBI’s fucking files.
Reynaldo is fucking him hard and fast, an evil grin plastered on his lips, and the kid is screaming for more even though his face is strained with tears. Fuck! I bet his rich daddy would have a heart attack if he knew how his little bastard is spending his time right now.
Hell, this is too fucking funny and before I can stop myself, I’m laughing my ass off, watching Rey fucking this kid. I’m laughing so hard that tears are spilling down my temples. I knew that bright Barbie pink colour was much more than just a coincidence.
Still laughing I glance at my watch, blinking through my blurry vision. Shit! Climbing out of bed I pad to the big terrace. Oh, fuck! A new day is already breaking. I turn on my heels, searching for my jacket, stumbling on my own feet. Finally I find it on a big couch where two blonde chicks are going down on each other.
I find myself staring openly at them, almost forgetting what I was looking for. Damn, sixty nine is my favorite number. Snapping back to reality, I blink a couple of times as I search for a cell phone inside my jacket pocket. Fuck! I’ve got ten calls from the same encoded number. Hanna. Damnit!
I flip the cell phone open, determined to dial her number when all of sudden I feel a soft hand gently grabbing my dick. Glancing down, I watch one of the blondes stroking its length with her hands as the other is already sucking the head lightly. Damn, that feels fucking good. Oh, hell! I figure the Ice Queen is going to have to wait at the end of the line; I’m too busy right now.
At the end, it’s not as if she’s my woman anymore and I’m doing what she wanted me to do, aren’t I? Besides, nobody said I couldn’t enjoy my role. I read that damn deal and I didn’t remember anything about not having a little fun on my own. However, I guess I’ll see her tomorrow anyway.
Reynaldo told me we’re flying to Miami; he’s going to meet his contact on the East coast. It’s seems Reynaldo is about to close a deal and judging by his excitement I would say one of the biggest he has done lately. Of course, he didn’t go into specifics but I bet it has something to do with those damn weapons Hanna is looking for so desperately.