Tatiana sat across from the man who had ruined her sister’s life. She had interrupted his dinner, entering through an unlocked door and holding him at gunpoint as she sat down across the table from him. He had tried to talk smack at first, but quickly fell silent when she shot his glass of red wine right out of his hand. Now he didn’t look so confident, with his gray comb-over askew and a sweaty upper lip.

He hadn’t killed Tadita, not directly anyway, but he had driven her into the arms of the man who had. Typical. That had pretty much summed up her sister’s existence: everyone making decisions for her that would benefit them; no one giving her a voice about her own life.

Tadita never got the chance to really live.

Her parents had still believed in the old Russian ways, or at least that was how her father had justified whoring out her sister to pay for his drinking and gambling habits. Her father sold her beloved little sister’s virginity to an American businessman. The arranged marriage had been so abusive that Tadita had run away – but not until he had abused her body and broken her spirit.

Her father had sold her sister off to this fat, disgusting man like she was a piece of meat for him to feast upon. And feast he had, using her body without mercy until Tadita managed to escape. But she made the mistake of getting involved with the Sinaloan cartel. Hector, the man who fancied himself in charge, had taken advantage of her desperation. He had won her over and gotten her hooked on heroin -- no doubt with the intention of whoring her out himself.

Sure, some women sought out and agreed to arranged marriages, even negotiating the terms of the deal via the internet, but not Tatiana; she was strong and didn’t need anyone. She would make her own way. Now she was a woman on a mission, with nothing to lose. When you’ve got nothing left to lose you become dangerous, fearless – the worst kind of enemy to have.

A few night ago, Tatiana had gone in search of Hector, to kill him. But someone had beaten her to the punch and she had barely escaped with her life. She had managed to sneak into the warehouse where they were holding a series of dogfights. It had almost been too easy; she had been standing right behind him, her sweaty palm on the gun, her finger dancing on the trigger.

Her head was roaring like a freight train as she waited for the perfect moment to shoot him down, but it never came. There were too many people, too many weapons, and not enough exits to give her a fighting chance to get out.

That’s when the reality of her flawed plan became undeniable. She had let her emotions get the best of her. She was outnumbered, pure and simple. If she had killed Hector at that moment, she wouldn’t have gotten out of that warehouse alive. The bastard hadn’t been worth dying over, and she couldn’t avenge her sister if she was dead. So, nearly buckling under the crushing disappointment, she had abandoned the plan. When the dogs suddenly bolted from the pit, she had taken advantage of the mayhem to slip out undetected.

So, it was on to Plan B, which had brought her face to face with her disgusting excuse for a brother-in-law.

“It’s not my fault that scumbag got her hooked on heroin,” he groused. “Tadita was wild, she had a mind of her own, just like you. You of all people should understand how stubborn she was. Hell, her name means ‘runner’. I only wanted the best for her—to give her a better life away from poverty in Russia, away from that shack she lived in with that drunk of a father of yours.”

Tatiana had had enough of his babbling. She cocked her gun, and smiled as the smell of urine filled the air. “Tadita would have never been forced to run if you hadn’t bought her and treated her like a common whore. You can gloss over that fact any way you want, but it will never change the fact that you treated my sister like shit.

“You took advantage of a young girl whose own father used her. She had no power to fight against the two of you.” She raised the gun a little higher, checking her aim. “Well, I’m the voice of reason now—no, I take that back—I’m the voice of fucking truth, and today your truth is going to smack you right between your eyes, you fat fuck!” she bellowed. “I’m the woman who is forcing you to look in the mirror and see yourself for what you truly are: a horny old bastard who’s going to die tonight.”

“Now, you’ve got it all wrong,” he sputtered, his jowls quivering as traces of spittle landed on the stained t-shirt that barely covered his enormous belly. “I tried to give her a better life. I brought her from that shack she lived in over in Russia. I bought her everything--”

Tatiana saw the fear in his eyes and heard the steady trickle of piss hit the floor. The man was grappling for any lifeline—anything to ensure she didn’t pull the trigger and splatter his brains all over the wall and the mountain of food piled up on the table in front of him. The sight of the overblown baboon nearly made her throw up in her mouth. Everything about him disgusted her.

As she thought of her sister’s wasted life, the room fell away, leaving her alone with her imagination and the knowledge of what her sister had endured. When all she could see in her mind’s eye was the horrifying vision of this slob raping her little sister over and over, she pulled the trigger.

And, yeah, his brains looked good splattered all over the wall as he collapsed face-first into his spaghetti and meatballs.