One

A shot rang off in the distance, cracking the silent night. The chants that followed told me they were here, for me. I had stolen a small substance from them, I had no idea what it was but it was something they valued greatly. I had sold it and that's how I got the little money I had with me.

The Loz Zetas were a notorious Mexican cult, feared by all who knew of their existence. Their reputation for violence and cruelty was well-known, and they were widely regarded as one of the most dangerous criminal organizations in the country.

As I burst out of the building and into the street, the sound of gunfire echoed through the air. People around me panicked and began to run, screaming in terror as the Loz Zetas shot randomly into the sky. 

Their rough, unkempt appearances gave away their association with a life of crime and violence. They were dressed in all black, with leather jackets and combat boots, their dark clothing blending in with the shadows. Their faces were obscured by bandanas and sunglasses, only their cold, menacing eyes visible.

Their tattoos were exposed, sending shivers down my spine as I realized that these men were not to be trifled with. They were heavily armed, carrying an assortment of weapons ranging from pistols to machetes. The danger and fear were radiating off of them, and I knew that I had to act fast if I wanted to escape alive.

I burst into my room, slamming the door behind me, and cursed, "Fuck!" I glanced around for the book where I had hidden the paper but it seemed to have disappeared. 

A very bad feeling settled in my gut as I scanned the room for the book. That's when I saw it lying on the edge of the bed. I frantically made for the book, opened it and tried to copy a number as quickly as I could. My hands were shaking and the beads of sweat were dripping down my face.

I grab the scrap of paper with the address scribbled on it and stuff it into my pocket. I only have a little change on me for the bus fare to the next town. I need to get out of here, and fast.

I look around the room frantically, trying to decide what to take with me. I see my bag sitting on the bed and quickly rummage through it, shoving in whatever I can find.

A hard pounding on the door makes me freeze,my heart is in my throat. They're here. The thought comes, like a promise of doom. My hands tremble, and I wipe it a few times on my shirt.

The men shout after me, their voices echoing through the house. “Find the bitch by all means.” Someone shouts the command. I didn’t stay to think of who it might be but he sounded familiar. Not my business. I turn to the window, knowing it is my only means of escape for now. Thank God I’ve had a lot of practice from sneaking out.

“Marco, Luis. Check the first floor.” That is all the motivation I need. I forget whatever monuments I would have wanted to pick and run toward the window.

"Don't fucking let her get away or I’ll kill you!" one of them shouts, cursing in Spanish, Their words fill me with a new burst of energy, and I scale the windowsill, jumping onto the roof. I hear them bursting into my room as my door crashed with a sickening thud, shouting and cursing, but I don't dare look back.

I run, my feet pounding on the roof tiles, my heart pounding in my chest. I hear the men shouting to each other, telling others not to let me escape. They're closing in, their footsteps getting louder, their voices getting closer. I turn a corner and see a ladder leading down to the ground. I take it two rungs at a time, my heart pounding in my chest.

I run as fast as I can, my heart pounding in my chest. I can hear them behind me, their footsteps growing louder and more frantic. I dart down an alleyway, cutting through a group of people. I don't dare look back, but I can feel their eyes on me.

I burst out onto the main street and flag down a bus. I climb aboard, panting and sweating, and the driver gives me a curious look. I hand him my change and collapse into a seat, trying to catch my breath.

I look out the window, watching as the people who had been following me disappear into the distance. I know they won't give up that easily, but for now, I'm safe. I pull out the scrap of paper and read the address, my mind racing. I have to find out what this is all about.

The bus rumbles down the road, and I sigh deeply with relief. I'll be okay. I'll figure this out. I just need to stay calm and keep moving forward.

I step off the bus, pull my hoodie down over my head, and look around. The town was eerily quiet except for some pounding noise in the distance. A shiver ran down my spine as I began to walk towards the club.

My mind raced as I thought about what I was going to do next. I was miserably broke with no dime on me, and I needed money to get out of here before they caught up with me. I know they might not stop until they find me.

I took a deep breath and pushed open the doors to the club. The music was loud and the lights were low. People were dancing to the outrageous beat, and at the corners I could see a few others sitting at the bar. I made my way over to the bar and sat down on one of the stools.

The bartender came over and I ordered a drink, trying to look as nonchalant as possible. My heart was pounding, and I could feel the sweat on my forehead. I had to keep my wits about me if I was going to make it out of here alive.

I scanned the room, trying to see if I could spot anyone who might be able to help me, but everyone seemed to be going about their business. Joining the crowd might be dangerous, considering the fact that the Loz Zetas could be anywhere at all. They were very good at blending in with the crowd and taking out their target. You never knew with them, they were everywhere.

That's when I spot a rich-looking man, sitting at a table at the far end of the room, drinking and looking lost in thought. He was a lot older than me, probably in his mid or late thirties. He wasn’t my usual type but I didn’t have a lot of options to pick from, he looks like the only person that has more than a few bucks in his wallet.

Beggars can’t be choosers. I repeat the phrase I always tell myself when I have to do things that the world would frown upon. They haven’t been in my shoes so they could as well shove their opinions up their asses.

I take a deep breath and get off the bat stool.I start making my way toward him, I stop a few feet from him and look down at myself. I looked like a hot mess and I wouldn’t give myself a second glance.

I turn back before he could turn my way and rush to the back of the room, I ask a waitress for directions to the bathroom and she hisses it out. Giving me a glare like I offended her. I don’t pay any attention to her and go on, walking like someone was following with a gun. There probably are.

The line of the bathroom is short and I don’t waste more than a few minutes there. There’s a woman in front of the mirror repairing her makeup, I eye the bag she is using and clear my throat.

“Hi,” I smiled at her sweetly. She raises her brows at me, I don’t care for her hostility and go on. “Are you Claire Derosa?” I made my accent thick. She shakes her head, her brows pulling together.

“No, you must have the wrong person.” Her voice came out nicer than the look she first gave me. 

I let my face fall and sigh dramatically. “Oh, I’m so sorry. You just look so much like her.” I study her like I was trying to make sure she isn’t actually the one. Then I laugh and shake my head. “Oh, silly me.” I cover my mouth and giggle. “There is no way you can be her, you’re a lot younger and prettier.”

The woman shoots me a small smile before picking up her bag and excusing herself. I close the door immediately and she steps out. I smirk to myself in the mirror. I pull out her lipstick and power from my jacket pocket and keep them on the counter. I wet my fingers and run them through my hair. When I’m satisfied with how tame they look, I apply the red lipstick and dust the powder on my face, giving it a little color.

I adjust my plain band t-shirt and shake the perfume bottle I was lucky to find in her purse before spraying myself. When I’m stationed, I walk out of the bathroom and back to the bar, with only one direction in nind.

The man looks up as I approach, and for a moment, there's a flicker of recognition in his eyes. Then, it was gone, replaced by a blank stare.

"Hey," I say, adding a seductive title to my voice. He looks at me then looks away before turning back.

"Hey," he replies finally, and takes another sip of his drink. My heart is beating wildly in my chest but it doesn’t make me give up. He looks like someone who would have the entire police department on his speed dial and I didn’t want that attention.

I almost just turn and walk away but the fear of the Los Zetas overpowers my fear of the police and I give him a sultry smile.

“You look a little lonely,” I study him better now as I lean down, making sure the tips of my breast were on display. This close, I smell the alcohol on his breath and notice how his eyes weren’t really focused.

He is drunk. Really drunk.

He takes the glass tumbler to his lips again, his movements sluggish. It's like he's barely holding it together. I smile to myself and lower into the seat opposite him without waiting for invitation

He is just the type of man I’m looking for.

“I’m a bit lonely too.”