“Killing people has nothing to do with being strong.”
He dipped his chin, locking me in his gaze which was becoming harder by the second. “It does when it’s someone who deserves it. Who needs it. Do you not remember what he’s done to us?”
My head jerked. “To us?”
His nostrils flared and he quickly got to his feet. He walked down the length of the boat toward the twin anchors, his loose pants billowing in the breeze like a flag.
I don’t know why but I got up, placing the speakers on top of the towel so it wouldn’t blow away into the ocean, and followed him. We were motoring today, the jib and mainsail furled tightly, the ship easy to walk on.
He stopped at the front and leaned one arm against the jib mast. I stood a foot back, feeling the weird energy that was rolling off of him. I waited for him to speak which seemed like hours.
“Once I found out that Travis wanted to cozy up to them, to Los Zetas, I knew in my heart of all hearts that things would end badly. Travis switched sides, even knowing what had happened to my father and my mother. He knew I would never make nice with them, that I would always fight them, that I would always try to bury them. Travis did it anyway, I think, to get away from me. Because I was threatening to him, you see? He knew everyone liked me better, that I was younger, smarter, faster. I was better than him in every way and he wanted me out of the picture. What better way to … hurt me … than to join them. Almost brilliant, right?”
I nodded even though he couldn’t see me. He sighed and went on. “We split. It got ugly. Then it got uglier. We were alike so he wanted to make the same points that I tended to make. But he is a brutal man. You may think the same of me too, but you don’t know him.”
“I kind of know what he’s capable of,” I said quietly.
At that he turned around and his eyes drifted down to my leg before turning around and facing the horizon. “Yes, yes you do. And so Travis, Mr. Raines, he went and took something very dear to me.”
It all clicked together. The ship rolling beneath my feet. “Beatriz.” I breathed out.
“Yes, my oldest sister. The one who was in charge of the younger ones. My closest friend, really. He found her. He raped her, forcing her husband to watch. Then he killed her. Killed him. Killed their children. Cut off their heads and put them in front of a busy hotel, just outside the lobby. Burned the bodies nearby. Took a lot of pictures.”
I gasped. I’d actually seen this on the news.
He acknowledged my expression. “So you know. You’ve seen it. He made his point and was sure the whole world saw it, made sure I’d see it no matter where I was. My sister and her family were an example of what Mexican drug violence was becoming. No one would ever forget what happened. And of course, he made sure I knew what was coming next. That no one I loved would ever be safe.”
I wiped my palms on my pants. “Are your other sisters safe?”
“For now,” he said, before turning to face me. “That’s one of the reasons I am going to Mexico. Even when Travis is dead, I can’t count on someone else not coming after them. We are like those zombies you see on TV, you know. We never really die. Someone else pops up in our place that looks like us and talks like us. We’re all interchangeable.”
“You’re not like—” I began and then cut myself off because I was going to say he was not like Travis when I knew he was. He wasn’t as depraved as Travis but he was still something else. Something bad and deadly and deplorable.
“I am,” he said with a small smile. “And because I know I am, I know when we’re safe and we aren’t safe. Not while he’s still alive. We have to kill him. Do you see now?”
I nodded, finding it crazy that I was understanding his logic. Once upon a time I’d wanted to throw acid in the man’s face and watch as his skin melted away, as I took his freedom away. I never did it – Javier got in the way. And now he was in my way again, this time to end it once and for all.
I did want Travis dead. I knew it now. But whether that made me strong or not wasn’t part of the equation. I would do this for myself, for Javier’s sister, for her children, for the countless others who died or were tortured at his hands. For everyone that ever suffered because of drugs and money and guns and crime and everything I had once cloaked myself with.
“So,” I said, feeling the landmass change in front of my eyes, turning from fear to something I wanted to embrace, “tell me everything I need to know.”
A grin slowly spread across his face.
The next morning I awoke to a deep rumbling and excited cries. I got up quickly, feeling the excitement and slid on a dress that reached down to the floor. It was one I’d picked up during an outing to Miami with Javier back in the day, a bright green and yellow floral thing that managed to look both fashionable and hide my scars at the same time.