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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Two days have passed sense DeLeon and Handle questioned me about Scissors. It would be nice to be rescued some time before I die from the infection in my arm and possibly my bloodstream.
I look around my chair. My shirt is shredded and laying in pieces with dried blood coating the concrete under me. So far the torture has been painful but not deadly. They've already pulled out several toenails and stabbed my abdomen, purposely missing anything important. I'll die from Constance shooting me way before I succumb to their mediocre attempt to hurt me.
Isn't that poetic or something?
The door slides open to reveal my favorite maniac, a huge guy named Chepo. He's not afraid to yank whereas it took the other guy all day to stomach pulling one toenail off. I even offered to help him because he was taking so long.
Amateur.
He places a handheld torch on the table next to me and gives me his usual blank face to match my own.
"Where is your Tijeras at?" Chepo asks me.
I shrug the shoulder that doesn't have a bullet in it. He also shrugs as he tinkers with the device. I have been burned too many times to be scared by his little flame maker he's playing with.
"Too bad you will not be saved today. Señor DeLeon has promised to kill you in a few hours. I'm just paid to keep you company until then." He lights the torch and turns the knob for the flame to turn blue, the highest temperature. "Would you like me to put a belt in your mouth? This is going to hurt."
I shake my head. "No thanks."
I think he says something but I can't hear him over the searing sound coming from my side. I don't scream as he drags the fire across my skin. What he doesn't know and I don't plan on telling him is that part of my torso is numb from too many knife fights so the heat only hurts a little.
Chepo stops for a moment to examine his handiwork. I look down to see he drew a lightening bolt over one of my long scars.
"Really?"
"It was this or una verga." He says without a hint of sarcasm.
I laugh at that. "Well if those were my only two options, thanks! Assuming that I'll survive this, it'll look cool. Much better than living with a scar in the shape of a penis."
"You are a strange one." He doesn't smile; just a man doing his job which I can respect. "I regret that you have to die but-" Chepo stops talking and looks to the door.
Men are shouting unrecognizable words followed by some screams. The voices get closer as the sounds of ricocheting bullets gets louder. This is either a really good thing or a really bad one. Chepo dusts his hands off and walks towards the door purposefully but gets thrown back by an explosion from the other side. The metal door falls to the side and through the fire and fog comes a familiar voice.
