I lunged into action, jumping off the bed and throwing myself in front of the gun. That was now placed directly on my forehead. My body shielding what was left of Esteban’s life.
“Get the fuck out of my face,” he gritted through a clenched jaw.
“No! Please! Please! Please! I’m begging you. It wasn’t his fault.” I got down on my knees, tucking the sheet under my arms, setting my hands in prayer gesture out in front of me. “I’m begging you, pleading with you on my hands and knees to please not do this! Please, Uncle! You don’t have to do this!” I bellowed through tears.
He scoffed. “You think your pitiful performance is going to work on me? You don’t know me, peladita. Get the fuck off the floor before I make you, and trust me, you don’t want it to come to that.”
I shook my head. “No.”
He cocked his head to the side as if no one had ever said that to him.
“You look like a fucking whore on your knees. NOW, GET THE FUCK UP!”
I shook my head again. “No.”
“What? You love him? You love that piece of shit?” He pointed to Esteban’s lifeless body.
I swallowed, hard. “No, Uncle. I don’t,” I answered the truth.
His head jerked back, stunned. He believed me.
“So, you are a whore,” he stated. “Your mother would be so proud.”
I frowned not wavering. “Please. Please, don’t do this. Not for me, okay? You don’t have to do shit for me. Do it for my mom. The only sister you had. The one you loved so fucking much,” I reminded, throwing the words he spoke hours ago back at him.
His eyes glazed over as he narrowed them at me. For the first time he didn’t hide the fact that the mere mention of my mother could bring him to his knees.
He slowly lowered his gun, but didn’t holster it.
I exhaled for what felt like an eternity. He grabbed his phone from his pocket and walked towards my window. I immediately turned to check on Esteban.
I placed his head on my lap and caressed the sides of his bloody, bruised face. Barely recognizing the man who was in my arms.
“Hey…”
He stirred.
“You’re going to be okay…” I coaxed.
“Venga a recoger a este hijo de puta antes de que yo lo mate,” Uncle roared, “Come get this son of a bitch before I kill him.”
He hung up, placing his phone back in his suit jacket, still facing the big, bay window in my room with his back to me.
After all these years, after all this time, I wanted to know what he was thinking. What he was feeling. I wanted to know his story. What made him the way he was? If he was ever a kind person… a loving man… a scared child…
I shook away the thoughts when I heard footsteps ascending down the hall. The same two men I’d met in the basement walked into the room. My uncle took one look at them and then nodded toward Esteban, turning to face the window once again.
They quickly picked him up, dragging him away from me. Taking the blanket off the bed and wrapping it around him. He was half-conscious when the men stood him up, but he was still hunched over, reeling in pain. They placed his arms around their necks for support.
Esteban opened his eyes as much as he could. Wanting to look for me I was sure. The men didn’t allow him any time and I wasn’t stupid enough to say anything to him. They carried him towards the door, leaving me to wonder if I would ever see him again.
It didn’t matter. He was alive.
“You know what?” Uncle said, bringing all of our attention back to him.
The men holding Esteban spun to face him.
My uncle turned around and narrowed his dark, daunting, soulless eyes directly at Esteban.
“I changed my mind,” he simply stated.
And before it registered what he just said. He lifted his gun and shot him.
“NO!” I yelled out, placing my hand over my mouth.
Hearing him groan out in pain, it was then I noticed his leg was gushing blood and my hand fell to my heart.
Relieved.
“The next time you fuck with what's mine, Esteban, the bullet will go in your fucking head.”
With that the men turned and left, leaving a trail of his blood on the floor.
“Briggs,” Uncle announced and I glanced over at him with nothing but hatred in my glare.
He was lost in thought, staring at my shed innocence that stained the sheets on the bed. He walked over to me, every step precise and calculated with the same vicious expression on his face. He roughly gripped my chin, making me look him dead in the eyes. He looked at me like I had been reborn, like I was no longer a little girl and said,
“You’re a Martinez now.”
Chapter 10
<>Austin<>
One thing I knew for sure…
I fucking hated school.
I sat in my freshman Psych class not paying any attention to the lecture, too distracted checking out the chick sitting one row below me in the auditorium. Her tits were on full display, making me want to bury my face in them and motorboat the shit out of her.
I grinned, biting the edge of my lip.