death in a bathtub
“he was the weak link Carlos, Mark was probably new right? Never been tortured only been taught. Probably in the gang cause of politics. Making a run, probably his first. His lack of fear of death was just talk. You should’ve seen your face when he was talking Carlos. You were happy he was talking. You knew Chase was here. You know about our gang, Chase cannot be here as she is from ACAB. Mark said this and you were not buying a word cause you did your homework. Your place in the gang you have earned. Done the stupidest tasks like drug runs to teenagers then you a got a taste for blood. I get it Carlos. You earned this and now you’re going to die in 5 minutes. Make it worth my time.”
“you think you're a smart girl. I did everything for that man and I finally got to take revenge for him, it was personal Valerie but that is what gangs are, personal.” Carlos said slowly, weakly.
“personal for who?” I asked. With 35% blood loss Carlos had gone through at this stage he had impaired judgement he would spill. This is usually the stage where I get my victims to confess. I called it the crucial minute.
“Romero” he said and was going to faint but I put pressure on his wound to keep the blood in for a little longer, elongating his life sentence for a few more moments.
“tell me why” I asked quickly.
“he hates pretty killer here. He wanted to cause pain so he sent me. Planned the attack on the building. How’s daddy’s leg boy?” Carlos laughed using the last pieces of breath he had left before he was going to pass out.
“you want blood?” Chase stalked towards him, wiped his hands on his pant and lifted the bucket with a soldier’s calm. He tipped it toward Carlo’s slack face; a dark, wet weight slid into his mouth. Carlo coughed, a small sound that converted into a gurgle. Chase didn’t flinch, like he had done this a hundred times. When the gurgling stopped he rose, considered the body for a long beat, and stepped away as if nothing at all had happened.
“Who’s Romero.” He asked me and I shrugged in response. He grabbed me by the neck, dragged me to the wall and choked me.
“You did not flinch or react when he said the name Valerie. Don’t fuck with me.” he said in his killer voice. Calming my vigorous heart I took out the black knife from my sheath. I smiled.
“I love it when you say my name” I told him while gasping for air. One hand when on top of his and the other one showed him our knife as I gave him a small cut on his lower lip. He release me and I leaned in and gave him a kiss where I had struck him, sucking the metallic substance from his lip. It took him a second to kiss me back and calm down. We broke the kiss after a few seconds looking at each other.
“I'm sorry” he said.
“you better be.” I said, “not a lot of people get to touch me like that.” I winked.
“what do you mean not a lot of people? Who else is touching you?” I could see his rage illuminating from him.
“let’s go” I said and walked towards the door leaving him there in his fury.
“what do you mean not a lot of people?” he yelled and followed me out. once we were out we didn’t utter a word about what we learnt inside as it was sensitive information for his gang.
It was still early in the day but we needed to regroup and process, “see you at the manor at 7pm for debrief?” he asked
“yep.” I said and we both split in our cars to go home.
I reached home and headed straight for my shower to get blood off me. The boiling water washed all the sins away and gave me a new perspective. I knew I had hear the name Romero before but it was just in passing. I closed my eyes and let the heat calm my nerves down. Red droplets tripled down my fingers into the drain as I went through the events of my boarding school days. Painful memories, calming memories, betrayal and rage ran through me like a river. A flashback of Charles’ face and a feeling of being his was pulled out of my subconscious and I let it play through. Walking through the school hallways in love with another monster I opened my locker, a note falling down. If my memory served, it was signed by Romero. That name and handwriting of the monster I belonged to. My body started to shake while invisible salty liquid flooded the drain now. The crying was enough of a release to another memory. “mine” I exhaled. That’s what the note said, I might still have it in one of the files I keep of my past. It was grey, the memory like his eyes. Him. Even at a breaking point all I could think about is Chase. Romero was going to ruin Chase. He was at least going to try. A good sob is all it takes to heal the past and not give into traumas. I climbed out of the shower and put on my clothes for the night. How am I supposed to tell the Dicanto’s that everything is happening because I couldn’t stay with my monster. Because I was the one who moved one and they just helped me do it.