Chapter 145 - We're Broken - Feds
Miguel
Diana asked me to be honest, and I was on the verge of confessing my past, but I didn't feel capable of doing it. I decided to step away for a few minutes; I needed to debate something with myself. That small torment had the courage to confess things to me that I didn't know, things I could only intuit. It was one thing to suspect, but quite another to be certain they had happened. It didn't affect me; it didn't take away from how brave she was.
I went to the room, grabbed the bag where I kept the weapons, and went downstairs with it. I needed to arm the house. This was a construction made by Roland, and something he always left in the same place were the compartments where weapons were stored for any eventuality. I needed to do something while I thought, to gather the courage and, like Diana, confess my secret. She deserved to know the truth, even if she would hate me for it.
I reached the door, and next to it was a light switch. I pressed it on the left tip, and automatically a panel opened at the top. I stored two 9mm there. I did the same in the living room, the dining room, the kitchen, and the back door, where I also stored two knives. When I arrived at the study, I pressed the button on the desk, and the wooden compartment under the desk opened. I placed the complete set of knives there.
It was the same in all the properties created by him. In some, weapons were stored; in others, not. We only did it in the ones we frequented. Old habits didn't die. I went to the kitchen after securing the windows and doors and drank a glass of water. It was time to confess. She was right; if we were going to get married, it had to be on strong foundations, and that only came from being honest.
God, send me a guardian angel. I need the courage to confess the abomination that I am. Besides, she needs to stop thinking that nonsense. Where did she get the idea that she was not enough for me? If anything, she was the one who didn't deserve a man like me. I was a selfish beast, and I wouldn't let her go unless she decided otherwise. I hope she doesn't hate me. I entered the room and saw her sleeping on the bed. I sat on the other side to watch her. I turned on my phone's flashlight and saw she had been crying. I leaned in to kiss her, giving her a kiss on each of her eyes.
"Miguel." Her crying was evident.
"Never cry for this beast."
"That's a request I can't and don't want to fulfill."
"Why did you cry?"
"Isn't it obvious? I disgust you."
"In your life, Diana Ramirez, never say such stupidity again!" The minds of women were very complicated.
"You left."
"I needed to think. It has nothing to do with your confession. It's because I need to do the same, and I'm ashamed to open up to you."
"Miguel, I already know you were or are a hitman and a drug dealer."
"That's one of my many sins. There's one I need to tell you, and believe me, it's me you'll hate."
She sat on the bed with her legs crossed, wearing her silk robe. Unintentionally, my mind traveled to those delicious breasts I wanted to suck again.
"Nothing you say will change the way I see you."
"It will."
I closed my eyes, and Father Gabriel's words came to me. "Remember, Miguel, the reward comes if we are brave and cross the valley of Calvary." God, I put myself in your hands. You know how much I love her.
"Miguel, you're scaring me."
"Diana... when I was thirteen, I was raped by my stepfather..."
Her eyes widened in shock, and I saw pain in them. Her hand caressed my face, and that subtle gesture of support gave me the courage to continue with the story. I told her everything and many more things I did in my youth, how I joined Roland's organization, how I earned his trust, and how I became a cold-blooded hitman.
"When Mrs. Veronica came into our lives, we witnessed the light, the kindness, and the character that managed to encapsulate the evil in Roland and brought out the good man inside him. Not only did her light calm the Boss, but somehow it also did the same for us."
"Then I decided to confess, to attend the religion she follows by her own choice. Deep down, I wanted a bit of that peace the lady emanates. The truths from the priest shook me. He was the second person I confessed to that during certain periods of my life, after the trauma of being raped, when hitting or killing didn't calm the anger caused by the memory of that episode, I ended up in a bar. She was going to hate me.
"A man approached me and started flirting. I was blinded by the memories. If my stepfather were alive at that point, I would have killed him again because he was the one I wanted in front of me to beat him to a pulp. That night...
"Did you sleep with that man?" My skin crawled; I didn't want to look at her. So I continued.
"No! I haven't kissed a man, I haven't touched penises, nor have I allowed anyone to touch mine. When I get those episodes, there's a need in me to do the same thing that was done to me, to pull down their pants and, without any preparation, shove it in. I do it with rage, without pleasure, just anger, taking it out on them.
"Once I accomplished my goal, I would turn around and leave the place, never to see that person again." I kept my head down. "The attacks came out of nowhere. At first, they were frequent. I calmed them with murders. After I turned twenty-five, I had my first encounter of that kind.
"Before the priest's advice, I had been in treatment with a specialist for a few months. The psychologist asked me to try having a relationship with a man. It was crucial; I needed to rule out whether I was homosexual or ended up being bisexual. It was important to define my sexuality.
"I tried. By then, the lady had come into our lives and was working silent miracles in all of us. She introduced me to her friend Raúl. We started flirting, but I couldn't go further. When he tried to kiss me, I rejected him. When he tried to touch me, I stopped him. I definitely didn't like men.
"By chance, my trauma resurfaced during those days, and unfortunately, he was the one who paid the price. I hurt him; I know I did. The next day, I felt disgusted; I didn't want to see him. We talked and tried to continue. He was understanding, although he doesn't know anything about this or my past. The problem is that he fell in love, created a fantasy. He followed me everywhere, thinking we were in a relationship, while I had no desire for him.
"He told Mrs. Veronica, and thus I was forced to talk to Roland. I didn't want him to find out, and I feared losing his trust. The psychologist said I needed to talk about it and come to terms with it, but deep down, I knew I didn't like men. I raped Raúl twice. On the third time, when I no longer had those fits of rage, I tried, and I couldn't get it up. Those were the three times I tried to have something with him.
"From then on, I was convinced that I wasn't homosexual. Men aren't my thing. Do you understand now who the abomination is? I did everything consciously, whether driven by rage, revenge, or madness. You are not insignificant to me. You are the noblest, bravest, and strongest woman I've had the privilege to know, and if you accept me with all that damned shit from my past, you would make me the happiest man.
Diana straddled me, her legs wrapping around my waist. She took my face in her hands, her face wet with tears.
"Don't cry for me."
"Let's heal together, let's mend our wounds with God's help." I kissed her. "I accept to be your wife on two conditions."
"What are they?"
I put my hands on her buttocks. Having her like that, with nothing underneath except her panties pressed against my erection, which was about to burst out of my pants.
"Swear to me that as soon as you get those episodes, you will come home, take my hand, lock us in our room, pull down my pants, and penetrate me."
"I don't want to hurt you. I don't control my strength in those moments, Diana, no..."