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El Pecador : El Santo Book 2 by M Robinson (3)


DAMIEN

 

Later that night, I was leaning against the hood of his car, smoking a cigarette, when they walked out through the back exit of the building around ten o’clock. It was one of the many secured properties he owned, with no one else around the vicinity for miles. Just the way he fucking liked it.

“Damien, what are you doing here?” Salazar questioned, caught off guard by my presence.

I didn’t waver, calmly responding, “I fucking missed you,” through a billow of smoke.

He chuckled, shaking his head before nodding to his guards. “Get her out of here. Go wait for me in the car.”

I pushed off his vehicle, watching as Pedro opened the back door of the car for her to step in. My eyes locked with a pair of emerald green eyes for a few seconds. Her sultry stare telling me everything I needed to know before she bowed her head, getting into his car.

“I’m actually glad you’re here,” Emilio stated, bringing my attention back to him. “We need to talk.”

“So talk.” I casually slid my free hand into my pocket while taking another drag from my cigarette. We walked toward my car parked at the end of the dimly-lit lot.

“I got the Feds on my ass, Damien. These motherfuckers just won’t lay off. I need you to do some ground work for me. Find out everything you can about these pieces of shit and what they know. They’re sniffing around everywhere, and I need to know what fucking dogs to put down. It’s not just them though, I think someone’s running their mouth to the enemy.”

“You think or you know?”

“I don’t know shit, and you know how much I fucking hate not knowing. Have you heard anything?”

“I’m always hearing shit,” I declared, stifling a laugh.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Did I stutter? I don’t know, Emilio. You tell me.”

He turned to face me when we got to my car, narrowing his eyes with a questioning glare I’d seen one too many times, but at this point he had to know I didn’t give a fuck. “What’s gotten into you, eh? Just find out who they are and bring me their fucking heads. Do you understand me? No one betrays me and lives to tell about it. You’re the only one I trust, Damien.”

I cocked my head to the side, taking another long, deep drag off my cigarette. Letting the smoke linger in my mouth. “Could have fucking fooled me,” I exhaled.  

“What are you

“So tell me, Salazar? Did you think I wouldn’t have found out?” I asked, grinning. Completely changing the subject. “Come on, old man. I thought we were family. I’m the son you always wanted and never had,” I mocked in a sarcastic tone, throwing his words back at him.

“Damien, don’t play fucking games with me. Mean what you say and say what you mean.” He stepped forward, getting right up in my face. “Now talk!”

I smiled. “Who said I wanted to talk, when I’m so fucking good at playing games. Maybe I should start by saying congratulations. You got what you wanted, what you’ve always wanted. Too bad it had to be your side piece and not your wife to finally give it to you.”

He jerked back, understanding my not so subtle accusation.

“I find out everything, Emilio. It’s how you made me. Including what the girl waiting in your car means to you. So, I’ll ask you again. Did you think I wouldn’t have found out?”

He sighed in disbelief.

“That’s what I fucking thought.”

“Listen, it’s

“Not what I think? So, tell me then, what the fuck am I thinking?”

Sweat began to bead on his forehead as he contemplated his response. Rubbing the back of his neck, clearly nervous as fuck. I resisted the urge to laugh in his face when he concluded, “You’re hurt because I kept something from you. That wasn’t my intention, son. What do you want me to say? I have to protect her, you know more than anyone how things are.”

I deliberately took my sweet ass time eyeing him up and down.

Watching.

Waiting.

Fucking calculating my next move.

“Who are you protecting her from? Or better yet, why are you protecting her? Everyone, including your wife, knows you fuck whores. So, try again.”

His expression instantly turned heated. “She’s not a whore, and don’t you ever fucking call her one again.” Looking me dead in the eyes, he added, “I love her.”

“Well fuck, that changes things, doesn’t it?” I scoffed, shaking my head. “Who would have thought, you of all men would fall in love with a girl young enough to be your daughter. I mean, she’s young. Even for you, old man. But that’s the point, isn’t it?” I took a few more long, deep puffs of my cigarette, blowing out the smoke rings into the thick air of the night. For one reason or another, the space between us suddenly seemed smaller. “She’s pretty, I’ll give you that. Not a bad fucking lay either. Her pussy did squeeze the fuck out of my cock, but goddamn, she can suck dick like a fucking pro.”

Before I got the last word out, he forcefully slammed me against the hood of my car. “Who the fuck

I laughed, I couldn’t help it. As much as I was enjoying the shit show, I needed to put an end to it. Placing my hands out in front of me in a surrendering gesture, I nodded to him. “Jesus Christ, man. Relax, I’m fucking with you!”

He glared at me, still unsure of where I was going with all of this. Watching my every move with a guarded stare.

“I’m just looking out for you. It’s part of my job. To keep you safe, remember? You want to bring her into this life? Then you better learn how to hide those fucking emotions. I can see right through you. I can see her behind your eyes. I can feel her coursing through your fucking bloodstream. It’s pouring the fuck out of you. She’s your weakness, and she will be your fucking death sentence. What has gotten into you, eh? She would be the first thing I would use against you if I were your enemy, so get your shit together. Start acting like the man I know and not the pussy-whipped bitch standing in front of me. It’s not a good fucking look.”

“Shit…” he breathed out, grabbing me by the lapels of my jacket. “You’re right about one thing. It is part of your job to keep me safe. That’s it! I’m not weak, if anyone goes as far as looking at her the wrong way, let alone touching a hair on her goddamn head, so help me God, I will murder them and everyone they have ever loved right in front of them and then I’ll cut their fucking heads off! Do I make myself clear? By protecting me, you are protecting her.” He shoved me. “Now, fuck off and go do what I’m paying you to do. I want heads, Damien. Get the fucking Feds off my back, now!” He turned around and started to walk back toward his car.

Toward her.

I didn’t think twice about it, speaking with conviction, “You once told me the only way to make a man pay for his sins… is always through the ones he loves the most.”

He stopped dead in his tracks before he slowly spun back around. Facing me once again.

“And I’m not talking about her. We both know you don’t give a flying fuck about the woman,” I paused, allowing my words to sink in. Taking one last long drag of my cigarette, I exhaled, “I’m talking about him.”

His eyes widened, and it was the first time I ever saw true fear pass through his dark, cold, devious goddamn eyes. I wanted to remember this moment, this second, this man standing in front of me, just like this.

Vulnerable.

Exposed.

Fucking terrified.

There was no way in hell he would ever forget the next words that came out of my mouth.

“Your unborn son, the one your whore is carrying.”

What occurred in the next few seconds happened so fast, yet it played out in slow motion. I flicked my lit cigarette to the ground beside him, causing a domino effect. A sudden burst of light lit up the dark space when the fire met the line of gasoline laced from my car to his. Followed by a quick sizzling sound, echoing through the empty parking lot.

“NOOOOO!” Salazar bellowed an ear-piercing scream resonating deep in my core, right as his car exploded like a bomb had gone off. Jerking us both back from the force of the detonation.

I swear I heard the woman’s scream before the initial blast, knowing she was about to burn. Pedro’s body was thrown on impact, causing his immediate death. While shards of glass and steel ricocheted off the metal dumpsters and siding. The windows of the building shattered from the pressure and chaos as flames laced the sky. When the fire reached the gas tank, a second explosion sparked, lifting the car off the ground and slamming back down, making the pavement beneath our bodies shake. Triggering car alarms to go off in the distance.

By the time we got to our feet, it was too late. Emilio was so dazed trying to figure out what just happened. His car was engulfed in flames and burning debris. Particles of glass rained down on us, deflecting off the asphalt as more pieces of his car fell steadily around us. A dark plume of smoke billowed off the vehicle as an endless stream of havoc and destruction filled the parking lot. The smell of human flesh mixed with the scent of gasoline and melting metal assaulted our senses. Consuming Emilio with sorrow and desperation from what had just happened.

Exactly what I wanted him to feel.

“You motherfucker!” In two-seconds-flat he yanked his guns out from his holsters, and I didn’t have to question his intensions.

He wanted blood.

Mine.

I hauled ass as soon as bullets began to fly by my face, one right after another. Throwing my body—head first—under my car, catching a bullet in my arm. I ignored the sharp, throbbing pain coursing through my core as I rolled to the driver’s side to seek cover behind my car. Emilio only ever carried two Glocks on him with a standard magazine capacity of nine rounds in each. He never needed more than one bullet with the arsenal of guards around him at all times. Right now, he was so fucking trigger happy to have my head, he wasn’t considering he’d be out of bullets soon.

I unbuckled my belt and whipped it out of the loops of my jeans, pulling it off and using it as a tourniquet on my arm to stop the bleeding. It didn’t take long to hear the clicks of the hammers hitting the empty chambers on his guns, revealing he was out of ammunition.

“Goddamn!” I yelled, standing. Laughing in his face. Riding the high of pure adrenaline.

He peered up at me through the slits of his eyes, conscious of the fact I just murdered his pregnant whore. It was his moment of truth, probably the first one in his miserable fucking life.

“I always wanted to do that. You know,” I shrugged, “It gets a little old taking the lives of people the same way, so fucking boring compared to blowing shit up. It’s good to spice things up too, keeps things interesting. I mean, did you see your car explode? Phew… now that’s some good fucking shit!”

His chest heaved, and his eyes burned. I’m sure all he saw was fucking red. Rage couldn’t even come close to describing how he felt. It took over every last fiber of his being.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Where are my manners?” I coaxed, shaking my head. Cunningly grinning. “I’m not sorry for your loss.”  

His beady eyes widened, and his mouth parted as he white-knuckled the guns at his sides. I calmly placed my hands in my pockets, walking over to him. The soles of my boots burned as soon as they crossed the imaginary line that had always been between us. I moved on autopilot like a man possessed, and in a way, I was. I had been my entire life. I could physically feel the weight of the shackles around my ankles with each step I took, dragging them right along with me. Except, I willingly chose the chains I wore. They were just another part I added to my battle scars, clinking through life together.

Tied to memories.

Regrets.

Mistakes.

My life.

Every step I took until I reached my final objective, reminded me of the imprisoned life I never wanted. The life that chose me nonetheless.

One foot in front of the other.

Four steps.

Three steps.

Two steps.

One.

I stopped right in front of him. There would be no more bullshit lies for him to spew, no more orders for me to follow, at least not anymore.

“Out of bullets, eh? I know you better than you know yourself.” I pulled out my gun and aimed it at his heart. “If I shoot you, will you even bleed?”

“Fuck you, you son of a bitch! I trusted you! I have given you everything,” he gritted out through a clenched jaw. “And this is how you repay me?! I will have your fucking head for this, Damien! Even if it means I have to come back from the grave, you motherfucker!”

Cocking my head to the side, I stared him dead in the eyes. “What was today’s checkup? Well, let’s see… last week you found out the baby has a dick, so that would make today confirmation that she is indeed carrying your Satan-fucking-spawn, right? Could never be too sure with a whore.”

He growled, stepping toward me, and I aimed my gun over his heart once again. “Tsk, tsk, tsk. Your temper, Emilio, it’s going to be the end of you,” I mocked the same words back at him that he used on me one too many fucking times. “You didn’t give a flying fuck about her, all you wanted was the baby. Your son. You were going to kill her yourself after she gave birth to your demon. She was a means to an end for you, exactly like she was for me.” I smiled. “Kind of sad to see those dick-sucking lips burn. I wasn’t lying when I told you she could suck a mean fucking cock.”

His chest rose and fell with each vicious word tumbling from my mouth. “Who the fuck do you think you are?!”

“I’m the man you fucking made me to be. You should be thanking me right now. I could have fucked her and tortured her in front of you, but I didn’t. Instead she died instantly along with your bastard son.”

He cold-clocked me with the butt of his gun, causing my face to whip back from his blow. I chuckled, stepping away. Spitting blood at his feet before wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. “I’ll let you have that one, considering I just killed your offspring.”

“Why? After everything I’ve done for you! You owe me an explanation!”

“I don’t owe you shit! I’m the man who’s been talking to the Feds! I’m the fucking mole you assigned me to look for, you dumb fuck. It’s been quite amusing watching you all these months, digging your own goddamn grave with each thrust into your whore. Turning you into a pussy-ass bitch while she was giving me all the information you were sharing with her. But you know what the best part was, Emilio? Seeing you squirm in your seat, trying to figure out who was feeding the Feds when it was right under your fucking nose the whole time. Who knew everything you have built could be brought down by a piece of ass. I guess the saying about women in your case must be true—never trust anything that bleeds for days and doesn’t fucking die.”

His eyes widened and he jerked back, stunned by my sudden confession. “You see, my wife was working for the U.S. Interpol. It wasn’t me she wanted, it was you. Is everything making sense now? Are the pieces coming together?” I asked. “Did you honestly think I wouldn’t go digging? Come on, you know me better than that. After I figured out which agency she was working for, I took a fucking meeting. They obviously already knew who I was through her investigation. They’d been waiting for my fucking call. They didn’t give a shit about Evita, like you didn’t give a fuck about your whore. The United States wanted your balls, old man. Their initial motivation was to bring you down, but as soon as they found out about my knowledge, my temperament, my experiences—knowing I wanted to get the fuck away from you and your regime—they wanted me to be a part of their team. Making me an offer I couldn’t refuse,” I paused, wanting everything I just shared to really sink in. Seeping into his skin and pores so it would become a permanent part of him. I could tell by the look in his eyes that he knew where I was going with this.

However, that didn’t take away from the pleasure of me confirming it to him. “You’re looking at a U.S. citizen, Emilio Salazar. The country you despise is now the one I work for. I’m an attorney, I’ll fit right the fuck in.”

I contemplated providing the evidence the U.S. wanted for him, but it wouldn’t have been enough of a severe and brutal punishment. Neither would death. Taking away everything he ever wanted, including my loyalty. Turning my back on him and leaving with everything he ever taught me, crossing over to be an ally with his worst fucking enemy.

Now, that…

Fucking destroyed him, and that was good enough for me.

“You think you’re better than me, Damien. You’re exactly like me. It doesn’t matter where you are or who you work for. That will never change. Do you understand me? I own you because we’re one and the same.”

I stepped toward him, leaning into his ear. Whispering, “I know.” And with that I shot him in the leg, grabbed his cellphone so he couldn’t call in a hit on me before I made it to the airport, and got the fuck out of there. Leaving him to wallow in the misery I created for him.

I made it to my private flight safe and sound, contemplating his last words to me for most of the flight. Knowing he was right, I’d become the exact man I despised. The one who taught me everything I knew through nothing but blood and violence. I had taken so many lives in the name of Salazar over the years, and each death chipped away another part of my soul, but this death tonight, this death brought me a sense of righteousness. This was my way of avenging Amira’s family, my way of making up for not being able to save them all those years ago, and as much as I wanted to tell Emilio the real reason for his unborn son’s death….

I couldn’t.

It would only bring Amira’s destruction, more than what I’d already caused. At least I had peace of mind in knowing he felt everything Amira did the night he murdered her family. I did it for her, like I do everything for her.

Eye for an eye motherfucker.

A tangled web of lies and deceit was the only way I knew how to live.

By Emilio’s side.

By Amira’s.

Especially… by mine.

I left the only light in my life back in the bed with the one person who would always hold my soul. I used to think I lost it to communism the night we met, but I didn’t.

It was Amira’s.

It eternally belonged to her, and a man with no soul destroys everything in his path. 

Including himself. 

I cheated death entirely too many times and death never fucking liked it. Evil always comes after you because in the end…

Death always wins.

My life started and ended with Emilio Salazar. The second I stepped foot onto American soil, there was nothing left of me.

El Santo.  

Exactly the way fate always wanted it to be.