Fall by Autumn Archer

17

A few hours ago, I watched the dead blaze in their final resting place. It didn’t take long for soaring flames to engulf the steel structure and bring in the roof. The intense heat and rip-roaring ruin haunted me with the pain of self-inflicted burns. Melted flesh, scorching agony and the unforgettable sickly smell.

I said a prayer for the warriors who served and for those who retaliated, jumped into my chopper and ordered the pilot to closely follow the entourage, escorting Miguel to the Oasis.

My days of hiding behind lenses and leather gloves are gone. I knew this day would arrive eventually, except I’m still clinging to the mental security of covered hands. My men heard my real name as it spat past Miguel’s lips. It doesn’t change a thing. Gloves or no gloves, Dante Valez is dead, and I fully embrace my demons.

I’d chosen to remain unknown, to keep the sniffer dogs off my trail and my enemies unaware of my new existence. And it worked.

Now Miguel knows I’m alive, and there’s no chance Maria will see me coming. She’s a nobody with debt and a dull life. Without fingerprints to incriminate me, I’m the same––a nobody of consequence. Except I’m a billionaire taking refuge in the rainforest.

The journey home was an endurance test of its own. As much as I tried to stamp out thoughts of Iris, I couldn’t. Beneath the putrid musk of stale smoke, I swore her intoxicating scent lingered on my skin. Visions of her smile plagued me. Imaginary sensations of her body rocketed volts through me. She surrounds me everywhere I go. Consumes me. Fucking lives within me.

When the Oasis finally came into view, I brushed off the blurred lines and buried them under the truth. She doesn’t deserve to live in my world of violence.

I know I’ll kill the semi-conscious guy before me. I’m just not sure how. Bullets are too clean. Too quick. Too forgiving. I’d rather face him man to man without weapons to hide behind. An old-fashioned war of physical strength. He’s not a match for me, nor was he ever. What man shoots the mother of his unborn child and walks away with his head held high? A scumbag with a daily substance habit whose pretty boy looks have faded and designer clothes now hang on a breakable, willowy physique. This fucking guy slumped before me is that evil.

To my left in the once occupied dim poacher’s hut, redundant rifles hang from sharp hooks and rusty fleshing knives no longer used to skin the hide of jaguars gather dust on a shelf. I made it clear to the locals that anyone found rustling on my land and beyond would meet the same ill fate as the animals they slaughter. The threat rippled into the villages with a stark warning of funds being slashed. Innocent creatures are under my protection.

Traitors, however, they’re dead men walking.

Miguel groans, stretching his jaw from side to side. The purplish bruise almost disguised under a five o’clock shadow looks worse than it presumably is, but that busted cheekbone, swollen and split, must sting like a bitch.

“Where the fuck am I?” His eyes dart to the weapons as his reflexes kick in.

He tries to stand. I lunge forward, crowding him with anger and shove him back down onto the rotten bench with one hand to the chest.

“Sit,” I order. “You’re in the Amazon rainforest. Miles from civilization.” I can’t help the smirk playing on my lips when he noticeably gulps.

He stuffs filthy hands into sweat slicked hair and quickly realizes he’s not cuffed. “What is this?” His palms curl and his wrists rotate outwards.

Two men guard the door, and the rest are strategically scattered around the hut with the order to shoot and kill. No surrender.

“Like I said, you’re in the guts of the jungle with nowhere to run to. How about I give you a tip?” I cock my head and fold my arms.

“Go on then.”

“You’re safer in here than out there—for now,” I add with a low chuckle. “You're not restrained because I can kill you in seconds. But where’s the fun in that, right?”

“You sonofabitch. Why now?” He rubs his blood crusted lips. “It’s been years since the fire.”

My hands ball, mentally drifting back to the flames. Gabriela’s last breath. Searing pain. Heartbreak. I deliberately take my time to answer, balancing a cool head with the swell of sadism. “If not now, then when, Miguel? Huh?”

“It’s been years.”

“Surely you didn’t think I’d forget about what you did, or let you get away with it?”

“I thought you’d either burned alive or gone on the run before the feds could catch you.”

“Nah…” I sigh, splaying my scalded palms outwards. “I took matters into my own hands and tracked you all this time. And now you’re going to tell me who put you up to it.”

Miguel shakes his head slowly and runs his tongue over his top teeth. “Which makes you a dumb fuck with no clue.”

The intensity of my hatred flares to nuclear. I’m holding him hostage, and he’s showing no signs of respect. And worse still, no remorse for the past. “You’ll tell me who wanted the list,” I grit out.

Miguel spits on the filthy wooden floor and offers me a slow smirk. “I don’t owe you shit, Valez.”

I stare at his smug face without an ounce of compassion for his miserable life, or how it will end. “That’s where you’re wrong. You owe me your life. The information you give me is a bonus.”

Miguel sneers darkly. “You honestly think I’ll spill if I’m going to die anyway?”

“You’re fucked either way. I can make it quick or drag it out for days. I’ve got nowhere to be. Your choice.” I shrug casually.

He leans forward, contemplating his next pointless move. “Which makes silence even more rewarding. I don’t have to give you anything. Seems to me like you’ve been licking your wounds in the rainforest, and you're still blind to it all.”

Every pang of loss, sharp stab of grief and crippling acceptance I’ve endured over the years, knots behind my ribs. It squeezes my heart in a tight fist. Dragging my patience lower. “Blind? I know what I saw. Every asshole in my home that day is an enemy. And guess what, there’s only two of those fuckers still breathing. You and Maria are next.”

“Good luck with that.” His voice simmers on the edge of fear.

I could strangle this motherfucker until his eyeballs burst. My nostrils flare as I inhale a calming hot breath. “Your cooperation is all I need. Not luck.”

Miguel lowers his voice to a sinister whisper. “Do you honestly think this will end well for you?”

A burst of sweat coats my spine. I lock my eyes with his and tip into him. “When you both die, that will be the only happy ending I need. My sister was pregnant… with your baby.” My heart aches. “You took it to the next fucking level.”

“I didn’t plan that,” he interrupts with a snarl. “The pregnancy was a mistake.”

“Really? Getting her pregnant was more than a mistake. It was careless and cruel. You gave her a future as a mother and then blew a hole in her chest.” My pulse hammers. I’m strung out and seething with venom. “And that’s exactly how you’ll be treated. Fair and fucking final.”

“Fuck you, Dante,” he snips with dry rebellion. “We both know that bullet was meant for you. I was never gonna kill her. She was only bait. A bargaining chip for the list. She’s dead because of you.”

My blood runs ice cold. “Because of me?”

“Because of you,” he repeats icily.

The unsteady rhythm of my heart races to the front of my chest, pounding hard to break free and strangle him with the arteries. I take two steps back, pulsing my fists for control. “She’s dead because you used her as a pawn. You’re the motherfucker who pulled the trigger.”

Miguel cricks his neck. “I pulled the trigger, but you got involved with the wrong people. You’re not blameless in all this. Look at yourself, Valez. You’re holed up in the wild with melted hands and a guilty conscience. If you think I’m gonna tell you shit, then you can suck my dick.”

There’s no reasoning with him, as I expected. Rolling my shoulders, I swagger to the slatted door. Slivers of daylight cut through the crumbling timber, helping the grimy window to bring in a wisp of dulled sunshine. “Thirsty?” I ask, unzipping a backpack and taking out a metal canister.

When I turn around to face him, he’s preparing to stand and wheezing. I unscrew the cap and watch him struggle. The bench creaks as his weight shifts, and his torso braces with the cautious movement.

“Take a drink.”

“Stick it up your ass,” he bites out, cradling his ribs.

I sigh loudly, fighting the urge to slam my fist into his teeth. “You’ll regret it. The humidity out here is a killer.”

“I’m not interested in indulging this brief fantasy of yours. Prove it's not poison.”

Truth serum isn’t exactly poison. It’s an elixir to welcome honesty, secrets and important answers. I grab a fresh bottle of the serum and decide tricking him into drinking it would be just as satisfying as pricking his weak veins. He won’t die from ingesting the cocktail of ingredients. Karma will kill him in the end.

El Fantasma.

“Poison.” I laugh low and quick. “Your time isn’t up yet.”

With his bloodshot eyes drilling into my face, I bring the bottle to my lips and take a long gulp. It’s my first ever taste of the bitter liquid, and the last. Enough to make me vulnerable to an interrogation. I’ve nothing to hide. My grudge is worn on every damaged skin cell. Now visible for all to see. The truths I own can escape without surprise. I swallow, nudging the flask closer. “Drink up. It’s only coconut water.”

He glares at the flask. Dry lips part as he considers the remedy to his scratchy throat. Shaking his head in defeat, he reaches out and snatches the bottle. My jaw clenches with the anger fizzing through my body. Liquid spills from the edge of his lips as he guzzles fast. Wiping his chin, he tosses the bottle to the dirt.

The corner of his mouth curls upwards. “So you’ve hidden out here the whole time?”

My veins catch fire. “Not hiding. Building my empire and spying on the cockroaches in the city.”

“It must get lonely out here.” He leans back and props his elbow on the back of the bench.

I wasn’t lonely until Iris.“You certainly haven’t been lonely over the years.”

He grabs his cock and chuckles. “What man would deprive himself of the greatest pleasures in life? Pussy and perico.”

It’s the exact response I expected from the bastard. Fucking whores and smuggling cocaine into America.

“Who do you work for?” I ask casually.

“Myself,” he replies with a callus grin. It won’t take long for the serum to take effect and extract the secrets I need. “Tell me this, Valez. Did those burns on your hands turn you feral? Are you a savage who fucks the wildlife because he’s too ugly to fuck women now? Those hands are truly disgusting. Did you run from Rio because you don’t belong anywhere?”

I bristle. My temper flips inward, straightening my backbone. The insane roar echoing in my ears is my own. Rage howls outwards. Maimed fists connect, blow after blow. Miguel’s already busted up face pours blood. His lip splits open, and his filthy dress shirt is covered in a spray of red. “Let’s see if you’re strong enough to survive the jungle all alone.” My voice lowers to a demonic calmness.

My candor confession fizzes on my tongue, begging to bleed me dry of truths. I didn’t run from Rio. I picked a discrete destination for privacy and created a billion-dollar business to help victims. Once that was established, a stunning foreigner shook the ground from beneath me. She gave me something else to focus on. She gifted me with an intense obsession––an emotion called love. Life isn’t easy, straightforward or fair. And now she’s far away. “Enjoy your stay.” My boots scuff the grit before the story of my past escapes. “Your days are numbered. Tick tock, tick tock, asshole.”

A disgusting sheen of moisture sticks to my T-shirt. Its slick weight clings like toxic liquid mutating my resolve to drag this out. One more word from his cocky mouth, and I’ll spear his chest with every available blunt blade.

The serum is firing up the electrical impulses in my brain, ready to surrender my implicit detestation. It’s working on me, which means it’s working on him.

“You’re leaving me in this dump?” he hisses under his breath.

“I’m stepping outside. The stench of your downfall is making me sick,” I reply without falter, without reserve. “If the door opens after I leave, the men guarding this hut will shoot you. No questions. No time to barter. No second chances. One bullet between the eyes.”

“Sonofabitch.” He pushes to an unsteady stand and staggers. “You won’t get away with this. I’ll kill you with my bare hands if I have to.”

“Try it, and then we’ll see how savage I really am,” I bite out, shoving my shoulder into the door and breaking free.

I need air.

I crave space.

I demand violence.

I’ve lost Iris.

My emotions are out of control.

“Keep guard,” I order in a bark, before storming a foot away and hunkering by the base of a tree.

Breathe.

The final pieces of my plan are slotting into their rightful place. I puff out a slow and steady jet of air. My head lands in my palms as adrenaline pumps faster. I’m buzzed and wired for war. Volts of grudge-bearing energy buzz through my body. It’s all contained inside me like a volcano preparing to erupt. My muscles ache from the tension. I roll out my shoulders and massage the back of my neck.

Two more lives.

Miguel.

Maria.

And then I’ll sink the criminals who sent Miguel to collect my list of drug traffickers. Heavy footsteps interrupt my thoughts. I wrench my head up with a scowl painted across my tired face.

“Sir, is everything okay?” A young guy dressed in camo with a field rifle under his arm eyes me from the shade. “Do you need something?”

“I need Iris,” I mutter with brutal honesty.

Fuck! Don’t answer questions.

I stand up to face him head on. My bloodied knuckles sting when I open and close my bare hands. Curbing my volatile mood with deep breaths flattens my need for vengeance to stealth and containment. “I’m going back in. Make sure there are no interruptions. One of us will come out alive. On the off chance it’s him, blow him up with bullets.”

I rip off the damp T-shirt, toss it aside and focus on the hut door.

The time has come to end this rivalry once and for all.