Their Broken Pieces by Jessica Gomez

Chapter Fifty-Three

Alex

 

 

The sound of Jasmine’s shrieking through the phone slams my heart against my chest, as if a train is ramming into a brick wall. Terror floods my body. Shortly after her scream, the phone disconnects.

“High school shed, outback,” I tell Carlos, who immediately flips around in the middle of the street and slams down on the gas.

After a minute of silence, Carlos asks the question I know he’s been dying to ask. “What’s going on? I heard most of his words, but not all of them.”

I can’t meet his eyes when I answer. All I keep thinking about is what’s happening to Jasmine right now, and how many more times will it happen before I can get there. “They rolled the dice on her.” I can barely choke out the words. “He said she rolled a seven.” Carlos slams the gas pedal down to the floor before looking at me in shock.

“We’ll get there, Alex.”

I know we’ll get there. My concern is if I’m going to be too late. When a female joins a gang, she has two ways to enter, like a man and get beaten in, or she can roll the dice. When you roll the dice, you have to sleep with as many gang members as the dice reads. Meaning, Jasmine will have to be in a train of seven guys, and to make matters worse, she’d be considered an inductee into their gang, becoming their property.

Fuck that!

I curse the entire way. The school’s about ten miles away, but it seems to take a million years before we arrive.

Carlos screeches to a stop, riding up on the grass, about twenty feet away from the shed. I can see a light on inside. Glancing around at all the dark shadows, I make my way to the door, Carlos following a few paces behind me. Once we reach the entrance and no one is standing guard, my nerves tense. This is most certainly a set-up, but wouldn’t they have already made their move? Unless… the thought makes me want to vomit. Are they all inside initiating Jasmine?

Fire burns through my veins as I finish closing the distance in three long strides and then hammer the door down with a quick kick.

The scene before me is surreal as a thousand thoughts stampede through my brain. The first thing I see is Jasmine, confined to a metal chair, and she’s bleeding from several areas. Her face is swollen, her lip split, claw marks decorate her jaw and neck. Her shirt is halfway up her torso, the bottom of her breast poking out. Her pajama shorts cut in the crotch; her panties nonexistent. She’s crying hysterically, pleading with Mario to stop.

The second thing I notice is there are only a few other guys besides Mario. It looks to me like Mario bluffed on the retaliation order. Usually, if an order is given, the entire gang is involved. This is only a small portion of The Black Widow’s, which means Mario went behind the leader’s back, and once he finds out about this, he’ll be dead.

This all registers within a matter of seconds, and along with it, a plan forms. I yell to Carlos to call Creep—the leader of the gang—and tell him about Mario’s insubordination. Simultaneously, I knock two guys out with only a few hits. Bragging is not my thing, but I’m lethal with my fists. I take out three of the five guys in the room with only a handful of blows landing on me before one of them smashes me in the back with a shovel.

Jasmine screams. In the position she’s in, the last thing she should worry about is me. She needs to escape.

“Jasmine,” I groan. “Run.” The hit with the shovel knocks the wind from my lungs for more than a few seconds, just enough time for them to surround me and pin my arms behind my back, ripping my hair around in one of their fists so I face Mario.

He’s laughing. “You know, I was going to kill you as soon as you walked through the door. Boy, you must have raced here; I thought I’d have more time.” He traces his finger down Jasmine’s cheek, jaw, neck, all the way down her breast, pausing on her nipple. Her face is sickened, her eyes squeezed shut, dirt and blood-streaked tears flow down her cheeks. “I think this is better though… now you can watch. I was just about to give it to her.”

I can’t help but notice the bulge in his pants as he looks at her… This is turning him on. He’s already got his jeans down past his thighs, his drawers hanging out the top.

“Don’t you fucking touch her!” I scream and get a fist to the gut. Vomit crawls up my throat, like a rat clawing its way out of a tunnel. My voice is small. I have to speak around the chunks, but the message is clear. “I will enjoy… ripping off your huevos… and sewing them into your mouth… just to watch you suffocate.”

Mario looks over his shoulder, with Jasmine crying only a couple of feet in front of him now. His lips cock up, letting me know he’s enjoying himself tremendously.

He takes one more step and Carlos slams into him from out of nowhere. Everyone is concentrating on keeping hold of me, or watching Mario work, that they neglect to notice Carlos creeping into position and pummeling Mario to the ground.

I spring into action as soon as my brain slides back on the rails. I head-butt the person behind me with the back of my head, his nose cracks, and warm liquid sprays on my neck in response. I elbow the person on my right in the stomach. He takes a few seconds to recover, but a few seconds is long enough to make sure the other guy is down for the count, which he is on the floor holding a very bloody nose.

Carlos and Mario’s fists are flying around in a blur; it’s hard to determine who has the upper hand. I need to finish this last guy off, even if I want to be the one to take Mario out.

Hesitating, the guy on my right looks from me to the open door, weighing his odds of escape. He glances at me one last time when the sounds of motorcycles fill the room. He must have known who was coming because his eyes widen in terror. He turns and runs out the door, but as soon as he makes it out, a silent shot is barely heard, signaling it carries a silencer.

I rush to Jasmine across the room, tearing my shirt off and covering her ripped clothing. She’s sobbing, leaning as close to me as she can with her bindings securing her in place. Tears prick my eyes, seeing her like this rips my heart out. Maneuvering my hands around her back, I twist at the tape that fastens her hands, struggling to free her and stay connected to her at the same time. She’s muttering unrecognizable words into my shoulder. When her arms are free, they swing up and cling around my neck, clutching onto me with all of her remaining strength. I take a minute to hug and kiss her, give her reassuring words I don’t know if I’ll be able to keep. Prying myself away from her long enough to untie her feet, I pull my shirt over her head, covering everything down to her thighs, and then take her in my arms. My entire being is relieved to be holding her flush against me. The relief is so great, I finally calm down enough to take in what almost happened to her, and how this was all my doing.

Rubbing my fingers through her hair, I murmur words without thinking, “Todo esto es mi culpa. Por favor perdóname. No puedo vivir sin ti. Te quiero y solamente usted.” I hold her in place and kiss the top of her head several more times.

I stop short when about fifteen people come through the door, Creep heading the pack. Carlos must’ve gotten his call in before hitting Mario from the side. Placing myself in front of Jasmine, positioned and ready to fight, I glance at Carlos. He has Mario pinned on the ground, his arms behind his back. Carlos’s lip is bleeding, and I can see bruises forming in various spots on his face. The most serious wound is a gash in his gut that looks to be bleeding steadily, and even with that wound, he shows no sign of fatigue.

Creep comes to a halt a few feet inside the door, taking in the scene. His eyes are dark and dangerous when they finally lock and hold on to Mario. “You come to my gang less than a week ago and you’re already ordering a retaliation? Without my consent!” His words are a growl as he motions for his people to step closer and take over Carlos’s position.

Two of Creep’s boys drag him upright, into a standing position. Carlos worked him over good, his head lolls to the side, his face a bloodied mess. “I’mmm… sssoory.” Mario slurs.

Creep’s expression is lethal; the laugh that comes out of his mouth is menacing. “You think saying sorry is going to work?” He shakes his head.

Creep steps forward with such speed and strength I barely have time to see what he’s doing as he slams his fist straight into Mario’s throat. Mario lets out a disgusting gagging noise, losing the battle to stay upright. Creep’s minions are the only thing keeping him standing.

Creep turns his attention towards us.

Carlos has found his way next to me, helping me to block Jasmine with both of our bodies. He’s holding a hand over the side that’s bleeding profusely; the entire side of his shirt is drenched in blood.

Creep stalks up to us, stopping about two feet away. “Let me see the girl.” He’s not asking, he’s demanding.

“Over my dead body,” I growl, crouching down, waiting for the attack.

Creep shows no emotion, but his eyes soften.

“I want to see the damage.” He pauses and looks around; noticing Carlos and I were the only members of my gang. “And I want to know what happened here.” Creep’s posture turns calm and conversational.

I’m not about to believe he’s giving up. “I can tell you what happened. You don’t need to be near her to hear it.”

Jasmine’s small, torn voice speaks from behind me, barely audible. “He took me.” She starts.

“Jasmine,” I turn to her and put her face in my hands. “You don’t have to do this.”

“I’m all right. He only wants to know what happened.” Then she looks over my shoulder at Creep. “Right?”

“That’s right, baby girl.” He smiles.

All my instincts tell me not to let her out from behind me, but she pushes around me to go face to face against another monster. “Jasmine, I don’t think…”

“Alex, stop! We have nowhere to go. If he wants to talk to me and see what happened, then I don’t see any way around it.” Her eyes are pleading with mine to understand where she’s coming from. If she can stand up and face this, after everything she’s been through, then so can I.

Doing the unthinkable, I move aside and let her step to the frontline. She’s steady as she approaches and stands before Creep. His eyes are devouring her from head to toe; the look on his face is enough for me to take a step forward.

Jasmine splays her arm across my chest to hold me in place. “Alex, don’t.”

Creep’s unnerving smile spreads across his face again. “Sí Alejo, I would listen to your mujer.”

I do, but only because I trust Jasmine’s instincts; this is her story to tell.