Chapter
1
Peaceful
bird sounds plied the desert air as three men faced off in tense
silence, mocking the sense of imminent danger surrounding them. They
stood on the wide shoulder of the deserted highway, unaware of the
thin, pale pink and purple ribbon illuminating the horizon, signaling
the barest hint of a new day.
Juan
stood facing the two men as they silently took stock of him. It
was cold, yet heat consumed him. He could feel the sweat
gathered under his arms and his pectoral muscles. Somewhere in the
last week, the deal he thought would be his ticket out of this
hellhole had gone horribly wrong. No one spoke for several minutes.
Juan gulped air into his lungs as if rising to the surface after a
long swim underwater and broke the silence. He spoke in rapid New
Mexican Spanish.
"Diego,
you have to believe me," he said desperately, sinking to his knees.
"The money was supposed to be there. I don't know what happened,
I swear to you, I will talk with Chico and make it right! Please,
Diego, give me another chance."
Diego
Reyes was an elegant Latino gentleman of short stature with
impeccable taste in clothing, a bloodline he could trace back to the
conquistadors, and ownership of the largest drug cartel in New
Mexico. He gazed down at the young man before him, his cold eyes
glimmering .
"You
think I like this, Juan? You think this is what I want? I gave
you my trust. A precious thing. I give you something, I expect you to
make good on it. I expect you to give me what I am due." He looked
down at his shoe and flicked his toe to dislodge a desert beetle that
had crawled over it. He narrowed his eyes at Juan. "I cannot let
this pass without retribution. In this business, mistakes can be
costly, and a reputation is vital. I am sorry, mi
amigo. This is painful for me
as well."
He
calmly pulled a small but lethal-looking knife from the holster under
his Armani suit coat and touched the point lovingly with the tip of
his finger. He looked Juan in the eyes. The sadness had been
replaced with a blackness. There was no anger, no emotion. Only cold
blackness and judgement. Recoiling at the revelation of this man's
true heart, Juan whimpered unconsciously as any man might do when he
faces imminent death. He squeezed his eyes shut and shuddered with
despair.
Diego
lunged and grabbed Juan's hair as if he intended to take his scalp
and placed the blade within an eyelash of Juan's left eye. Then he
froze, a cold, dead smile on his face. Juan realized with dawning
horror that Diego liked this, actually relished this. He would drag
out Juan's terror and emotional distress as if he were feasting on
a meal so delicious he did not want it to end.
A
slight shift from the other member of this desert death scene caused
Diego to pause in irritation. He did not like to be interrupted when
he was playing with victims. Juan barely shifted his eyes, still
rigid with fear in Diego's hands. The man who stopped the torment,
Diego's right hand, was an enigma. Taller than Diego by at
least eight inches, and broad in the shoulders, he was solid and
muscular, with inky black hair that was a little too long, and the
bronzed skin of his Spanish forebears. His coffee-colored eyes stared
out from a rugged chiseled face. Juan only knew him as El
Escorpion, which was not unusual in
the business they were in. Many adopted street names when they
operated on the outskirts of civil society. Juan also knew that The
Scorpion had a reputation that lived up to his namesake. He was
lethal in a fight and struck quickly, without remorse.
Gazing
at this man now, Juan recognized that killer instinct in those eyes,
but there was something else, something he couldn't name or even
describe. He reached out for it instinctively, and he felt a tiny
glimmer of hope.
"Why
not take advantage of this?" The Scorpion spoke quietly, but he
commanded the attention of the other men. At Diego's blank look, he
added, "He is stupid and not worth the effort it would take to kill
him, but he might be useful. Chico lives in Bertram, up the road.
Small town, off the radar. Business could be good there. Let Juan set
up a meeting with Chico. We get the money, add Bertram to the
distribution network, and teach Chico a lesson."
Juan
could see the greed swirling in Diego's black eyes. He knew
that the Scorpion had struck a chord with his boss. Juan released a
breath slowly and looked pleadingly at Diego. Diego leaned over Juan
once more, reluctant to give up his game. In Diego's face,
Juan could see the avarice in his heart battling with his wish to
inflict pain. Diego paused for one more tense second, then released
Juan's head from his grasp and shoved him to the ground. With a
look of disgust, he wiped Juan's sweat from his hands with a silk
handkerchief, but he kept the knife in his hand. The Scorpion
remained as he was, legs crossed, arms crossed, leaning against
Diego's Mercedes, calm as if he were observing a casual business
meeting in a company boardroom. His dusty leather jacket and jeans
were a stark contrast to the fastidiousness of his boss. Juan rested
his forehead in the dirt and trembled with thankfulness. Diego turned
slightly and clapped his right hand man on the shoulder.
"An
excellent idea, amigo."
He skewered Juan with that same black deadness as before. "Juan,
you will do what he says and arrange this meeting. And I swear to
you, if something goes wrong this time, I will cut out your heart and
feed it to your own mother."
With
those words, he flicked the razor sharp knife with full force
straight down into Juan's foot, pinning it to the ground
underneath. At the man's startled scream, the lustful gleam
returned to those dead eyes and he smiled in triumph. Casually,
he opened his car door and slid into a backseat wrapped in expensive
leather.
The
Scorpion never reacted during all of this. Once Diego was in the car,
he quickly grasped the knife and yanked it from Juan's foot,
ignoring? Juan's moan of pain. He grabbed Juan under the arm
and hauled him to his feet. Juan seemed unable to get his trembling
legs to move, so the Scorpion half dragged, half carried him to his
truck and tossed him into the seat. When the Scorpion closed the
door, Juan put his arm out and gave what he hoped was a look of
profound thanks to the man who had just saved his life.
"Just
set up the meeting. Call me when you have details." The Scorpion
walked away with an easy lethal grace in his step. His steps were
slow and deliberate until he heard the roar of the truck and felt the
rush of red dust against his skin as it sped away down the highway.
For a moment he paused, his expression blank, only a squaring of the
shoulders and a slight tick in his jaw to indicate any emotion
inside. Then, he lifted his chin, eyes squinting toward the rising
sun in the direction of the sleepy little town of Bertram. It was
time for this to end. With a deep breath, he slid into the driver's
seat of Diego's car, wiped the knife and tossed the handkerchief
out the window, and returned the blade back to the killer it belonged
to. Then he cranked the engine and sped west on that same highway
toward the purple darkness that still enveloped the sky.
#############
How
insane does a person have to be to leave everything familiar
and travel clear across the country to start over?
Emma silently asked herself that question for the millionth time as
she navigated her way down the hall of Bertram Middle School. Yup,
pretty crazy, she thought for the
million and first time as she slung the enormous "Mary Poppins"
tote--full of papers to grade, lesson plans, curriculum materials,
her trusty Chromebook, and every other item?she might possibly
need--over her shoulder, causing her to walk lopsided. Thank God it
was Friday!
"Hey, Char," she called as she stopped in the main office to
check her box one more time. Char, short for Charlene, but don't
let her catch you calling her that, had been kind and friendly to
Emma when she joined the faculty back in August, helping her settle
in and get used to a new school, a new environment, and a new state.
Emma was thankful for the friendship, and appreciated her
friend more every day. Even though Emma had family there in town, and
had visited several times over the years, it wasn't the same as
living there. Nope, not the same at
all.
Char
smiled. "Hey. You got plans for the weekend?"
"Just
taking my sister out to the Bottomless Lakes"
"Neat
place. Have fun!
The
people here weren't used to her way of talking. Coming from the
Lowcountry of South Carolina to the southeastern desert of New Mexico
had been a cultural shock for sure. One of the biggest adjustments
had been putting up with people's desire to hear her speak.
"Just
say something!" they would tell her. "We just love to hear you
talk." Little did they realize that she got a big kick out of
listening to them speak, too. In this part of New Mexico, western
culture and vernacular was alive and well...and a West Texas "twang"
was something to appreciate.
Emma
slung her stuff into the back seat and slid into the front seat of
her little Toyota. Trusty Maria wasn't flashy but she got Emma
where she needed to go. She glanced at the sky and shivered just a
little before starting the engine of her car. The late October air
was starting to chill down and, since this was the desert, there was
nothing to stop the wind. It blew constantly. Something
else to get used to.
As
she drove home through the streets of Bertram, an old song came on
the radio and she fought to catch her breath as her throat closed
instinctively. It was her ex's favorite. The music triggered
memories, unbidden, to play in her mind. It
was like a cheesy Lifetime Network movie. Married too young to
'Prince Charming'. Young and stupid, that's what I was! She
winced slightly as the song continued. I
should have payed attention to the signs. I should have left the
first time he...God, the whole thing was such a cliche.
At least I had enough sense to finish
college.
The
song reached its crescendo in a cacophony of sound as that fateful
day replayed in her head.
"Hey,"
Blake said as he flung his keys on the counter, took off his tacky
Burger Buddy tie and plopped down on the couch. When he didn't get
a response, he looked over at Emma. "What's the matter with you?"
He got up and walked into the kitchen.
Emma
glared at him. He was handsome, she admitted to herself. He had those
pretty-boy eyes, but his once athletic physique had softened and
turned slightly doughy. There was a harshness in his face she
hadn't seen. Or didn't want to see, she thought bitterly.
"You
know what's the matter." She was so angry, she was trembling.
"You didn't delete the messages off the answering machine."
Blake
froze briefly, popping the cap on his beer and turning back toward
her.
"I
heard it all, Blake! Every nasty little detail! It's pretty
obvious that you...you're having an affair." She squared her
shoulders and lifted her chin.
He
rushed toward her and gripped her shoulders. "Baby, you know I love
you. It didn't mean anything. She threw herself at me. I got
caught up in the moment. It's over, and..."
Emma
stepped back and wriggled from his grasp. "No, Blake. Enough! It's
not like this hasn't happened before. I'm done. You hear me?
Done!"
She
turned on her heel to get her suitcase from where she'd set it near
the door, only to be hurled backward onto the floor with a sickening
thud. Blake rose above her with such a look of rage that Emma quaked
with fear. He leaned down nose to nose with her and snarled in her
face.
"You
fat bitch," he taunted. "If you weren't such a loser for
a wife, maybe I wouldn't have to look around so much. You
think you're so much better with your college degree. Fucking whore
is what you are. Fucking..." He raised his fist and hit her so hard
she was knocked almost senseless. With lights flashing behind her
eyes and darkness threatening to overwhelm her, she fought with
waning strength to get away, but he slammed her back on the floor and
hit her again.
She
didn't remember anything after that. Later she woke up with a
cracked rib and too many painful bruises and cuts to count. More
than her body was broken that day.
Funny. your heart really can break, and there is actual
physical pain when it does.
The
DJ's voice brought Emma back to the present. She shook her head.
This is now,
she reminded herself. Her family made a new start here in the desert
after her dad's retirement, and here's where she was making her
own new start. Part of that was steering clear of relationships. She
had learned her lesson and wanted nothing to do with men. Nope.
Not at all. Maybe never again.
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