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CHAPTER 44
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2021-05-02 14:57:18I think of the palm reading she had given me close to a month ago during Thanksgiving. Everything she has said is slowly becoming factual, and I wish it weren't.
I want a sense of normality. I want to feel like I can wake up without feeling like I can't breathe. I want to live without feeling as if I need to look over my shoulder or question everyone's intentions. But that isn't my life. Not anymore. In a sense, I chose this route myself, and I need to live with it and the gradual abyss it's dragging me into. But I can't go down without a fight; I refuse to be utterly powerless. My endeavors—independent endeavors—start with finding out who put the camera in my office. I have an idea
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**It's a simple question I have to ask, which should prompt a simple answer. As I hold the camera between the empty space between myself and the three of them across from me, I know I have to ask this simple question—Did you put this camera in my office? And after this question, Sebastian should answer with a yes or a no. But this doesn't happen immediately. I continue to hold the small, cracked camera between us and wait. I don't know what I'm waiting for—myself, or for them, who knows. I look into Sebastian's eyes and pray I find someone else in them. Someone who wouldn't do this to me, jeopardizing my career and my privacy with this small model of surveillance. I want to believe he didn't—he wouldn't. "I found this camera in my office last week," I tell t
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i know who i am. or at least who i need to be i do things for her - for him - for us. i do things for love. for security. for safety slowly, however, i look in the mirror and see myself changing. maybe it's for the better, or maybe it's for the worst. But if it's for her - for him - for us, then i'm content. or should i be? i look in the mirror and i see someone else. i look at my hands and see blood but i know who i am - i am the man she raised me to be. but she's gone - he took her away from me.
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** December 23rd, 10:23 PM SEBASTIAN It amazes me, how I continuously seem to fuck up the moment I think I'm doing something right. Leslie just left me. Well, not in that sense—we weren't' together in that way, even though we were only one step away from getting to that point. No, she left me, here in Salvador's library because I lied to her. Well, I lied to her, then yelled at her and told her that Alejandro was playing her in a room of her colleagues; her own assistant (who was fucking Claude behind our backs. I should have known—that bastard, him). I shouldn't have yelled, but the moment my mouth opened, the words wouldn't stop. They just kept flowing out of me; she's such a pain i
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** My hands have become numb from banging on the window. The blood has dried on the glass from how long we've been driving - me and this mysterious driver who refuses to answer any of my questions. My tears have dried, too - perhaps I have none left. All I can do is stare forward as we drive. To where? I don't know. My mind caves in on itself, the sound of the gunshots still ringing in my ear as if I'm still at the mansion hearing them for the first time. If I had just run a little faster, I could have seen who it was; who the victim was. It came from the library—what if it was Alejandro? Sebastian? Bile rises in my throat. The tears I thought were gone are coming back and blurring my vision. I pull out my pho
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** I let the water from my shower run over my body hot, rinsing tonight away. But as badly as I want tonight to wash down the drain, all I see pink from the blood on my hands. The truth left Isaac's mouth, and the first thing I did was excuse myself for a shower. Of course, Isaac didn't oppose. He sat there as I slowly got up, went to the bathroom, turned on the faucet and stepped into the hot water. And now, I just stand in it. I stand in it, letting the memories connect with the truth I've been given. Luís Mateo Velasquez. Assassin. Drug Cartel. It doesn't seem real. That, or I'm ashamed, shocked, afraid that I slept with a man like Alejandro—Luís. Not only did I sleep with him, but I dated him. Thought I might have loved him. He lied to me twice. No telling how many
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**I awaken with a tight feeling around my wrists.My vision is blurred, my head throbbing and brain disoriented. I don't know where I am, and my last memories are a jumbled mess. The last thing I remember clearly is Isaac telling the guards to get me out of the car. Everything else, for the moment, is darkness. Bleak. Scrambled TV static.I open my eyes but remain completely still. I wait for sounds before I make any sudden movements; my vision is still getting back to me.I can hear muffled speech in another language. It takes a moment for me to realize that it's in Spanish. I can grasp the conversation—what I need from it:"You fucking idiots. Do you not know how to fo
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** I stand between the both of them as if I'm not on the brink of life and death myself. Their guns are still raised towards each other even though I stand between them. They look past me into each other's eyes, speaking volumes. I don't know what to do, so I just stand between and hope that, soon, it's all over. Eventually, I have the courage to speak. "Put the fucking guns down." My hands are shaking. "Now." "Leslie, come here," Claude says cautiously, like Alejandro is a bear or a wolf planning on attacking me. "Get away from him." "Don't listen to him, Leslie." I hear Alejandro's hand tightened around the grip of the gun. "He's the last one that can protect you."
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** Today is Christmas, though I'm anything but festive. The house is empty and quiet when I wake up. I took the guestroom, which happens to be significantly larger than my own room at home. The sun comes in brightly through the large windows, illuminating the table that centers the room, the dresser, the TV and the large bed I can't seem to get out of. I refrain from touching my phone since Isaac suggested that engaging with social media or stressing myself out more with work is counter-intuitive. I reminded him that I still have a job—a career—that I have a commitment to. But my life (again, per Isaac's words) is more important than my career, and until this shitstorm is settled, I have to lay low. I didn't take it well; I'm still adjusting.
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** I wait for the walls to cave in on themselves. I wait for the lights to go out and for everyone to disappear. Suddenly, I'll be free falling. And right before I hit the ground, I'll jolt myself awake; this is a dream. I want this to be a dream. I want to wake up right next to Leslie with the sunrays and the sheets and shit. I don't want this to be real. But after waiting for the end of the dream, it never comes. This is real life. What I'm seeing is one-hundred percent real. Claude, Isaac and Penny stand beside me, staring in the same direction that I am but wearing different facial expressions; I'm the only one whose expression isn't distinctive. Salvador continues to try and wake Alejandro up. There's a small groan that emanates from him, but he still remai
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** The only thought that races through my mind is death. Alejandro is going to kill me. That's what's going to happen. He's going to shoot me, and the moment everyone downstairs hears the gunshot, it will be too late; the gun is already pressed into my back. All he needs to do is pull the trigger. "I don't want to hurt you, Leslie," Alejandro whispers in my ear. I'm too scared to speak; he told me not to make a sound. I breathe in the rough leather of his glove and tense against the gun on my back. Eyes closed, I wait for him to shoot. But he never does. Instead, he removes the gun, still keeping his hand over my mouth. I'm pressed even further into his chest, smelling the sweat and tobacco stuck to his clothing. The sound of knocking on the door makes us both jump in alarm. "Leslie, it's me," Sebastian says on the other side. The moment I hear his voice, I scream even louder into Alejandro's glove. "Shut up," he growled into m
