Constance thought she could finally stop looking over her shoulder. She has a steady job as a hairstylist, rents a small apartment next door to her best friend, and keeps a routine that distracts her just enough to not have to dwell on her past.
All...
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Three days.
I have three days to escape but that is seeming less likely the longer I stay here, wherever here is.
My left arm has gone numb and when I think about the pain, I can't help but laugh. Constance is a great shot. In fact, she's so great that she hit me on her first try and I am not an easy guy to shoot despite what you may think by my many scars.
One of the men put a belt tourniquet right above the bullet wound to stop the bleeding, most likely to keep me alive but definitely not to make me comfortable. He was a little to happy to watch me squirm while messing with my arm but I didn't complain. If I don't get out of here in three days time, I won't have an arm to save and the infection that I'm sure I already have will spread to my bloodstream. No big deal.
The heavy metal door screeches loudly as it opens. I have two guards around the clock that switch shifts every five hours. I knew once I saw the men propel out of the helicopter that they were DeLeon's goons. Handle is always much more subtle but DeLeon likes an entrance and that is why I didn't fight them. I was confident that Handle would leave Constance alone but DeLeon could care less. If they were after me, they'd kill anyone in their path and I couldn't let that happen to my girl. Especially sense her hardheadedness would cause her to try to save me, I knew I needed to go willingly. Somehow, she still managed to shoot me.
"You're in luck, the boss made it here early." The guard with a face tattoo says in a overly enthusiastic tone.
I don't respond; that's my speciality.
He grabs my arm and squeezes my wound tightly making me tighten my jaw muscles to keep from screaming. When he doesn't get a reaction out of me, he leans forward to say something and I use that opportunity to headbut him. A loud crack rings through the room while tattoo-face groans. It hurt like a motherlover but it's nothing I haven't done before. He stumbles back and wipes blood off his forehead.
Stupid prick. Interrogation 101, don't get too close.
"I'm going to kill you!" He grabs my shirt and holds me still while his hand connects to my face.
His punches are worse than Darlene's. I turn my head slightly, knowing which spots he can hit with the least amount of damage and let him go at me. It's not like I can stop him anyways.
"NACHO!"
A mans voice stops tattoo-face mid swing. He drops my shirt and turns slowly. Even through bloody eyes, I can make out a tall, tanned man in a white suite standing by the entrance.
"Boss, I didn't know you would be here so soon."
Shoes clap against the concrete floor as DeLeon approaches us. "Is that why you are damaging my property? I believe I made it clear when I said not to harm Rubio."
