Devil Awaiting (part 3)

-14-

Now for the hard part. Castillo won’t be alone. He never leaves without his little séquito. Reconnaissance should at least be easy. Crowded club full of people. I’ll bring Denise and I’ll blend right in. I need a disguise though. Funny, I come all the way back from the dead to wreak vengeance on my killers and I have to do recon at fucking Jake’s. Garbage.
My thoughts snap back to the present as I approach Denise’s apartment. I turn my head as I walk past a big black Cadillac. It’s sitting on huge chrome rims and all its windows have a heavy dark tint. It looks out of place. I look in through the windshield. The dark tint makes it difficult but I can make out the interior. It’s spotless. Nothing suspicious at all, so why does it still bother me? I’m about to turn around and forget it when I see the auto tattoo on the back windshield. A capital R with a crown around the top. I know that symbol. It’s the symbol for Los Reyes. It’s the symbol for Castillo’s crew. FUCK.
I run up to the door as stealthily as I can. I pull the Magnum out of my pants and stand with my back to the wall next to the door. I turn the handle slowly, quietly. It turns, it’s unlocked. I push on the door. FUCK I HATE DEADBOLTS. I can hear them struggling inside. He’s hurting her. I can’t let this happen. Not Denise. I got Alexandra killed but I’m not going to fucking lose Denise.
I square up and face the door. I lift my foot up and blast it next to the lock with all the force I can muster. I can see sharp wood shards fly off the frame as the door bursts open. I dive forward and roll across the living room into the kitchen. I stay on my belly and pop my head and my gun around the corner. He’s got a gun pointed in my direction but I fire two rounds before he gets a clear shot. The wall behind him is sprayed with blood as the second shot grazes his shoulder and he drops to the ground. He’s behind a sofa and I can’t see him. Then I hear the girl shriek.
“Let go of me!”
“Come closer and I’ll kill this puta,” yells an accented voice from the other side of the sofa, “you stay there and we go out.”
“Not gonna happen, maricón.”
He stands up and he’s got his arm around Denise’s neck and she’s in front of him, blocking my shot. He’s also got his gun in her ribs. Give me a clear shot, you fuck. Just for a second. One wrong move and you’re a dead man, just give me the shot. He’s using his wounded arm to hold her. Then I notice Denise’s shirt was ripped and he had scratch marks on his face. This dirty bastard was going to rape her! You’re already dead motherfucker, you just haven’t realized it yet. He backs around toward the door, carefully keeping his eyes on me and the girl between us. She looks at me with eyes that aren’t terrified or panicked as they should be. She looks pissed. If that look was for me, I’d let her go and take my chances against the Magnum.
As they get near the door, more of my body is exposed. I start to worry about this for just a moment when he pulls the gun up and points it at me, trying to get me to withdraw. It would have worked, except in the same instant Denise reaches up behind her and grabs hard on the exact spot where the guy was hit, and immediately spins out from in front of him, breaking his weakened hold as he cringes and yelps with pain. You messed with the wrong girl, motherfucker, I think as I squeeze the trigger twice and watch his chest explode with blood as he is knocked back against the wall. As he hits the wall he slumps down in to a lifeless heap on the floor, leaving a smear of blood trailing down the wall behind him.

-15-

“Are you okay?” I ask as I stand up.
“Now I am,” comes her icy reply as she kicks the body on the floor, “fucking piece of shit bastard!”
“It’s all over now.” I hug her and she wraps her arms tight around my back. She’s starting to cry.
“It’s okay, you can calm down.” I do my best to comfort her.
She holds on to me for about a minute, then let’s go.
“Okay, I’m all right now.” She says as she dries her tears. Her makeup is smeared all over her face, her shirt is torn, and she has blood on her hands and shoulders and cheek. But for all of that she doesn’t look scared or rattled at all. She’s steady and the expression on her face was dispassionate. This is one tough little girl.
“That’s good. But now we have to get out of here, the cops will be here soon.”
“I doubt that. The walls here are super thick.”
“Yeah but this gun is loud as hell. Go wash up and change quickly. Grab some clothes and anything else you’ll need. We’ll go stay in a hotel for a few days. Hurry though, I don’t feel like explaining a dead Mexican to the boys in blue.”
While she does all that I take a closer look at the corpse on the floor. I recognize him but can’t put my finger on who he is. I take out his wallet. Chris Guerrero is the name on the license. That’s no help. Who the fuck are you? I take another look at him and start to get frustrated. Where the fuck did we meet? I figure he’s probably just one of Castillo’s goons that I had seen him with at some point, but for some reason he seems more familiar than that, like someone you just meet but forget their name right away. I’m so frustrated I actually kick the body in the face. I feel the jaw crunch and teeth break under the weight of my foot. The corpse was in a sitting position and my kick knocks it over sideways. As he hits the ground a long silver chain with a gleaming, blood-spattered silver pendant of the Los Reyes symbol slides out of his jacket. When I see it my eyes open wide and my heart jumps in my chest. You shot me! You were the one that fucking shot me in that alley! Payback’s a bitch, isn’t it, cabrón?
As I stand up Denise comes back into the living room, with a new outfit and her face washed. She has a big bag with her. How did she pack all that stuff so fast?
“You ready to go?”
“Yeah.”
“Good. Let’s be about it.” I say as I throw Guerrero’s wallet and gun in my bag and sling it over my shoulder.”

-16-

The drive is short and silent. Neither of us speaks the entire ride. We arrive at the Hilton Garden Inn, park the car, and walk inside. We check in under a phony name (Mr. & Mrs. Eric Michaels), and pay for two nights up front in cash, which my most recent victim so providentially supplied us with. We head up into our room.
It’s about five o’clock, so we have a several hours to kill before we go to the Nightclub to look for Castillo. When we get settled in I suggest that we go down to the hotel restaurant, Coach’s, for something to eat.
“So where did that guy come from?”
“He followed me. I went to Sami’s. I know you told me not to but I sort of lost control after you left.”
I know the feeling.
“But when I got there, he said Sami didn’t live there anymore. I said that was bullshit, and that Sami and I had a score to settle. He looked at me strangely for a minute and then told me to get lost. He must have followed me home because I was only inside for a minute or two before he came in. I left the door unlocked so you could get back in.”
Never leave the door unlocked.
“So then he came in and he hit me and started asking me what I knew about Sami. I told him that Alexandra was my sister and that she was your girlfriend and you were Sami’s partner. Then he told me told me that he killed both of you, and I tried to attack him, but he was so much stronger than me. He threw me on the ground, and then he said he didn’t get to fuck Alexandra before he killed her, but that he wouldn’t make that mistake again, and he started tearing my clothes off and throwing me around. That’s when you came in.”
Adam saves the day. Some hero.
“Look, Denise. The reason that guy was there instead of Sami is because Sami is dead.”
“I thought you said that you talked to him today?”
“I did. I went to his penthouse, and asked him why he set me up. I asked him who helped him. There’s a gangster named Castillo. The guy at your apartment worked for him. He’s the one who planned the whole thing and set me up.”
“Wait, you killed Sami?”
“Yes, and tonight I’m going to kill Castillo.”

-17-

After we finish we head back up in the room. I finish up getting ready to go out and Denise is still in the bathroom. I decide to clean Guerrero’s gun. It’s a .22 caliber Beretta 21 Bobcat. It is super light-weight with a short stubby barrel. Perfect for concealment and not nearly as loud as my Magnum. Not long now, Castillo. This is your judgment day. Nothing can change that now. You can’t stop what’s coming.
I’m sitting on the bed, cleaning the gun on the nightstand when Denise comes out of the bathroom and walks toward me. I’m still concentrating on the gun but I can see from my periphery that Denise is standing right in front of me. I look up at her and suddenly I feel a jolt deep in my gut.
She is standing in front of me in a short, tight green dress that matches perfectly with her bright green eyes. Her curly blond hair hung down in front of her shoulder on one side in front of the strap of her dress, and for just a moment I forget everything and I go speechless. I’m looking at Alexandra again. I feel like I’m staring so I stand up to face her. She gazes at me with the same emerald eyes that I fell in love with. I’m trying hard to restrain myself from kissing her. She’s not Alexandra, no matter how much you want her to be.
But then she reaches out. She puts her arms around me and pulls me in. I put my hands on her hips and our lips touch. We kiss for a long time. After a minute we fall onto the bed, still in each other’s arms. She rolls on top of me, straddling me, and whispers into my ear.
“Tell me this isn’t wrong.”
“This can’t be wrong.”
She reaches down and unbuttons my pants. I kick them off as I unzip her dress. As I slide it off of her, she reaches down and pulls the covers over us.

-18-

“It’s time for you to go back to the hotel.”
It’s about two o’clock in the morning, and we’re standing by the bar right next to the dance floor in the club. Castillo and his cronies have been sitting in the huge VIP booth. A few of the cronies had been down to the dance floor to bring girls back, and the server had brought them all their drinks. Castillo hadn’t had more than a shot or two. This was a good thing, even though it would make my task more difficult. I get you with all your senses. You’re going to know your dead. You’re going to feel every bit of pain you get.
“I’m going to stay with you!”
“The hell you are. It’s way too dangerous. Go back to the hotel, and I’ll wake you up when I get home.”
“But what if something happens to you?”
“Nothing will happen to me. When I get back this will all be over, and we can move on. But I have to do this. I have to do it alone.”
“No you don’t! I can help.”
“I don’t need any help.”
“Well I’m coming and I don’t…”
“NO!” we’re both surprised by the vehemence in my voice. Not because I had shouted, but because of the way I did. It wasn’t dispassionate like my usual commands. It was full of emotion. It was anxious, worried, troubled.
“Adam… I…”
“I’m not going to lose you the way I lost her,” I say with the same emotion, “I’m not going to get you killed.”
“Adam,” she says as she takes my hands in hers, “It wasn’t your fault. It was Sami’s fault, it was Castillo’s fault, but it wasn’t yours.”
“Denise, go back to the hotel, please. Don’t ask me to put you at risk. I can’t do it. I’ll be fine and in a few hours this will all be over, but for now you need to go back to the hotel.”
She looks at me with misty green eyes full of worry and compassion and understanding. After a long time she pulls me close and gives me a long kiss.
“You better fucking come back to me.”
“I will.”
“Then I’ll go back. Go give that sonofabitch what he deserves. I’ll be waiting.”
She kisses me one last time and then turns and walks out. I watch her as she goes, relieved. Time to get down to business. I turn back to look at Castillo. He and two other guys are the only ones left in the booth. Come on motherfucker, let’s get this show on the road.

-19-

I slow Denise’s car down a bit as Castillo’s car pulls into a driveway after a short drive from the bar. I go past as they get out of the car. The driveway is underneath a huge patio on the side of a big brick house on the corner of 11th street. So this is where you live… funny that it’s going to be where you die. I drive around the block and pull onto the side of the road about half a block away. I get out of the car and then get back in the back seat. I open my bag and pull out the outfit I had worn when I killed Sami; black hoodie, black sweatpants, black gloves, black skull cap.
Once changed, I get out of the car and approach the house and walk a lap around. It is on the corner of the intersection with the front door facing one street and the driveway and patio facing the other. There are three levels including the basement, which had a door that led to the under deck garage. The deck is on the first floor and has a sliding glass door, and the basement door is big and heavy looking. The front door is up a few steps from the ground on a small front porch, and made of some kind of wood with a window in the middle, and door-height windows on the side of each door. The lights are on in the main living room and kitchen (which is the only room I can actually see into). Only one light is on in the basement and none on upstairs. I decide to wait a while until I’m sure everyone is in bed.
I go and sit behind a bush on the corner between the front and side doors. I sit there for a long while. My mind is focused and sharp. I keep looking around the corners to see when the lights go out. They aren’t. Then I hear the front door open. I look and see one guy walk out on the front porch.
“Yeah, I’m just going to smoke first.” Says the guy.
I hear somebody saying something inside.
“Okay, goodnight jefe.” Says the guy on the porch.
I can see the guy clearly as he lights his cigarette. He sits down on the top of three steps. The front porch is about two feet off the ground and had a built on brick railing about two foot above that. The steps are in the middle directly in front of the door, with brick pillars on either side. I put my back against the outside of the house and sneak silently toward the porch. I get there, and face the side of the porch. I put my hands, palms down, on the wide railing. I pull myself up and climb over it noiselessly. I’m right behind him. I pull the knife out of its holster as I move toward him cautiously and lower myself to his level. I wait until he takes a drag of his smoke and lower his hand, and I strike.
I put one knee into his back and pull his head back with my right hand, and simultaneously drag the blade across his throat. He makes a horrible gargling sound as he reaches back helplessly, but the movement slows rapidly and in a few short seconds he falls back, dead.

-20-

I clean my knife off with rag that I brought just for that purpose. One down, no alarm yet. I might just get out of here without having to fire a shot. I open the front door with extreme caution. All the lights on the main level are off, but that doesn’t mean there’s no one there. I open it only enough to get in, draw the .22 out of my sweats, step inside, and close the door carefully behind me. I scope out the downstairs quickly. The wall to my left is mostly a half-height wall with a doorway to the living room. The stairs are on the far end of the living room and the sliding door is on the wall to the far left. To my right is the kitchen and a breakfast nook, also empty. A bathroom is at the end of the hall to the right and stairs to the basement across from it.
I decide to check downstairs first. I go down the stairs stealthily and make sure I stay low, with just my eyes above the railing (which was an extension of the wall). It looks like another empty living room, so I stand up when I get to the bottom. There’s a door on the wall in front of the stairs that I recognize as the garage exit. There is also a door on the wall opposite of that. I walk up and examine it. The door is extremely heavy looking and has a hooked metal door knob, like one you’d see in a warehouse. Above that there is a heavy dead-bolt, and a steel surface-mount lock with a heavy padlock above that. Found the stockroom. I wonder how much money all the drugs in that room are worth. I shake myself mentally. Doesn’t matter, that’s not what I’m here for.
I turn around and head back up the stairs. All the bedrooms are on the top floor. At least I know where they all are. I climb warily up the stairs, and about half way up I can see a light coming from the room at the top of the steps. I continue slowly up the stairs until I reach the top and see that the light is coming from a bathroom. The hallway has three doors on the left side, including the bathroom, and two on the right. The door next to the bathroom is the only other door that is open, but the light is off. There is no light coming from under any of the other doors either. I peak around the door of the open room and see that the bed is empty. That must be the dead guy’s room. I turn around and am about to check the other rooms when the door on the end of the hall opens, pouring light into the far end of the hallway as its resident steps out. We lock eyes for a split second and I turn immediately around and bound down the stairs as I hear him shout.
“WHAT THE FUCK?”

-21-

So much for the element of surprise… FUCK.
I can hear the first guy banging on doors and yelling to his roommates. I open the sliding glass door and slam it shut, and then run across the living room through the open doorway. I holster the .22 as I move toward the front door an and pull out the magnum with my back to the wall. I flip around and duck down a bit, and stick the gun out across the half-height wall, using the top of it to steady my shot. A second later I hear them running down the stairs.
“I heard him go outside,” a voice says as the first one reaches the bottom of the stairs, “let’s get this pandejo!”
The first one down the stairs throws open the sliding door and waits for the two others to catch up. The darkness hides his face from me. Which fucking one of you is Castillo? The other two make it down the stairs and they all begin to run out the door. Only one of them makes out of the house.
Six thunderous explosions deafen me as I unload every shot I have as quickly as I can pull the trigger. Then several things happen simultaneously. The glass door shatters and the figure outside on the deck spins around as he falls to the ground. One of the men inside is thrown against the wall by the force of the huge bullet colliding with his chest, and the other covers the white wall in dark blood as his head is blasted into a bloody pulp.

-22-

I duck down and pull out the .22, then stand up and run quickly to the bodies. I recognize the body that still has a head as the second one who was in the alley the night I was shot. I look at the other dead man. Not much left of you is there? I don’t think even his mother could identify him now. I look out at the man on the porch who was crawling toward the stairs, leaving a trail of blood.
“CASTILLO!!!” I yell.
He turns his head to look at me. That’s him. I step over the headless corpse and scan the deck. No gun. It must have flown over the edge when he dropped it. He continues to crawl toward the stairs. I step up behind him I deliver a kick to his hip, just below the bullet would. He shrieks in pain as he falls to his other side.
“LOOK AT ME PUTO!”
He looks up at me with a look of pure hatred. Then he recognizes me. His eyebrows ascend his forehead and his seem to gape out of his head as his expression changes to obvious terror.
“What’s the matter, mother fucker? You look like you’ve seen a ghost!” I sneer.
“No…You’re dead,” he cried, “you’re DEAD!”
“Get up!” I yell. “Get the FUCK UP!”
I grab him under the arms and lift him to his knees. Then I kick him directly in the chest, which sends him rolling down the stairs. He crashes in a heap on the ground. I step down the stairs slowly, heavily. He starts crawling away again. You’re not getting away from me. I come up behind him and kick him directly in the ass and he falls flat on his face. I step to the side of him and roll him onto his back with my foot. I put my foot just below his left shoulder, holding him in place. I cross my right arm under my left, resting the left forearm on my right wrist to steady my shot as I aim the .22 directly between his eyes. I let him stare down the barrel in silence for a minute as I hold it over him like the Sword of Damocles. You feel that you piece of shit? That’s terror. I can taste the sweetness of victory as I savor the moment. My heartbeat pounds in my chest so loud it’s deafening. My eyes narrow as I decide that now is the time.
“This is for Alexandra. Time to die, Castillo. Don’t want to keep the Devil waiting.”
BANG

-23-

I was just about to pull the trigger when I feel a sledgehammer hit my shoulder and I’m knocked sideways onto the ground. This time the pain doesn’t block out my thoughts. I’ve failed. Alexandra won’t be avenged. Castillo will live to kill again. I’ll never see Denise again. I see through blurry vision that someone shot me from up on the deck. Someone with a bloody chest is leaning with one arm through the rail, and a gun in that hand. I lay there for a while, the SEARING pain of the bullet pumping through my body and the CRUSHING weight of defeat consuming my mind. Then I see Castillo standing over me, aiming a huge silver .45 caliber handgun directly at my face.
“You will stay dead this time, Cabrón.”
BANG

Epilogue

There was something about this girl that Luis Castillo liked. He’s brought a few perfect tens home from the bars in his day, but something about this one was different. She shoved him onto the bed and climbed on top of him, straddling her legs over his torso. She leans down and kisses his neck. She sits up and stares down at him.
“I’ve got a surprise for you.” says the girl seductively as she reaches into her purse.
“I love surprises,” he answers as he stares up at her.
It’s those eyes, he thinks to himself, those wild, green eyes.
She pulls what looks like lipstick out of her purse, and then she steps back onto the floor, and kisses his chest, moving down further and further. She slides his boxer’s down around his ankle.
“This is for Adam!” yells Denise as she pulls the top off of the disguised knife and slices it across his genitals.
He screams loud enough to wake up the dead as he reaches down and curls into a fetal position, in more pain than any man should ever endure.
“And this is for Alexandra.” She says coldly as she calmly takes the other knife out of her purse, pulls it out of its case, and thrusts it into Luis Castillo’s heart.

The End