I don’t know about this…
A thoughtful hum emits from the back of my throat as my eyes gloss over the circuit boards laid out on the lab table in front of me. I’m just a couple of wires short from finishing them, and the longer I stare at them, the more I second-guess whether or not I’ve taken the best approach. Given that I now have an idea of what and how they’re being used, I can’t afford any mistakes.
I might have to start all over.
…
Fuck.
There’s three weeks left for me to conduct a trial run, make any tweaks if necessary, conduct another test if I do have to make tweaks to it, and build the final product. It’s overwhelming, to say the least, and given that it took me almost an entire week to engineer the design and implement only a fraction of it, I know that I’m not moving fast enough.
Adderall would be great right about now.
I press my lips against the lid o
I’m in way over my head… As utterly sexist as Guillermo’s comment was, I almost feel inclined to agree with him. Not because I think that a woman can’t do this job, but because I’m starting to really believe that I can’t do it. Why couldn’t I just major in mechanical engineering instead? This would be so much easier… … But nooooo, like a fucking loser, I majored in math and now I’m a semester away from not finishing my Physics degree because I’m probably gonna die trying to build this fucking thing. … I really need to stop saying ‘fuck’. I sound just like Levi. … Fuck, fuck, fuckety, fuck, fuck, fuck! An audible groan vibrates from my throat as I bring my forehead to the lab table. My arms swaying freely at my sides, I huff loudly as I shut my eyes and internally cry in frustration. I’m exhausted, but my br
With the music playing softly from the sound system, Marcel drove us into the city where he warned me to stay in the truck while he ran into a store and came back with a bag of food and drinks that he placed in the backseat. For another quarter of an hour, he drove us down a country road, up a hill where he backed the truck into the familiar unmarked spot with a beautiful view of the city lights. Now, as he shifts the gear to ’Park’, I turn to look at him, my eyebrows furrowed, confused as I ask, “What are we doing here, Marcel?” He doesn’t say a word, unfastening his seatbelt as he pops the door beside him open. With a quick click of a button, he turns the engine off and steps out of the truck, swiftly shutting the door behind him. I watch him walk around the back of the truck through the rearview mirror, hearing the click from the tailgate as he lowers it seamlessly before continuing his movements to the passenger side of the truck where he opens the door
⊰ Marcel ⊱ I lean back into the driver’s seat, one hand on the steering wheel, the other holding my chin as I prop my elbow against the door beside me. The sound of the wind brushing against the truck is hardly enough to pierce the deafening silence between Mercy and I as she sits in the passenger’s seat beside me, her head turned away, looking out the window. Was I too harsh? The soft sigh that passes my lips is hardly audible, and while my gaze is fixated on the empty road ahead of me, driving through the dark path illuminated by the headlights of my truck, my thoughts are submerged by the events that took place no more than half an hour ago. The buzz from the cigar clouded my pride deeply enough to drag me back down into the pit I’d spent so long pulling myself out of. As I sat on the bed of my truck, next to her, I forgot about how I let her take a hold of me and she discarded me as easily as she captivated me. I
The annoying urge to pee prompts my eyelids to snap open, my eyebrows furrowing, disoriented. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch the bright sunlight beaming from beneath the blackout curtains concealing the windows and balcony door of my bedroom, and as a heavy sigh parts my lips, I shift my legs, throwing them over the edge of the bed as I tuck my arm beneath me, propping myself up to sit upright. A soft groan emits from the back of my throat as I straighten on my feet, feeling the cold marble floor through the thin cloth of my black ankle socks as I make my way to the bathroom. I hook my thumbs into the hem of my black cheeksters, slipping them down to my knees as I lower myself onto the toilet. I could literally go back to sleep right now. I almost have to fight to stay awake as I listen to the light tinkle over my soft breathing, my eyes flickering up to the decorative clock positioned above the towel rack. 6 o’clock? It’s probably
Okay…maybe I should leave a couple wires disconnected… I sit back on the swivel chair, setting the pliers down as I eye the circuit board I’m just about done working on. I’m a few steps away from putting together the trial product and though, theoretically speaking, the only thing that can trigger these things is the switch I’ve already finished building, I don’t want to leave anything to chance. A shaky breath parts my lips as I avert my gaze to the clock on the display screen across the table, reading ’10:12PM’. Oop. It’s as if I’ve been on autopilot since I sat down and had dinner with Marcel, 2 days ago, which consisted of silence. The blue pill I’d taken played its effect just ten minutes after, and while, in the back of my mind, I was curious about what had transpired at that hilltop, I was more concerned with the plan I’d put together and implementing it. It’s true what they say: you can accomplish anything if you set your mind to it. Needless to say, 2 days of working wh
My body shifts, jostling with the black SUV as Rick drives us through the uneven terrain of the unpaved road in the middle of God knows where. Beside Marcel, I sit in the back seat, the middle seat conspicuously empty between us as Frank sits on the passenger’s seat, beside Rick. With my hands on my lap, I find myself fixated on them, twiddling my fingers beneath the sleeves of my sweater in my desperate attempt to find comfort that I haven’t been able to since I stepped foot into this vehicle, almost an hour ago. I like to think that if there wasn’t another black SUV trailing behind us, carrying Guillermo and three of his men, I’d be far less stressed. However, given that I’ve hardly given him any thought within the past hour, I know that my anxiety has nothing to do with him and everything to do with the three explosives we’re transporting in the trunk space. If they fail…I’m just gonna kill myself ’cause ain’t no way. …
After a successful trial, Guillermo insisted that “we celebrate”, and while Marcel, his father, and about 20 other people that I don’t know, sit on the long, roundabout, cushioned bench around the fire pit, drinking, smoking, talking, and laughing, I lay on one of the many white chaise lounge chairs surrounding the pool, silently. The cool night breeze flicks the stray hair strands from my loose low bun, the chilly air penetrating my sweater as I cross my legs in front of me. I draw my cheek between my teeth, chewing thoughtfully with my eyebrows furrowed ever-so-slightly and my gaze fixed on the whipped cream of the Piña Colada in my hands as my mind wanders to the thing I wish I could stop thinking about: the bomb. Damn it. Thinking back to the assembly, I don’t know how the bombs managed to go off. I missed a couple of wires, and I remember this now because I remember telling myself not to forget about the hidden wires beneath the circuit board before I forgot about them. I onl
I watch Levi approach us, and almost instantly, Marcel’s demeanor changes. He shifts me on his side, almost as though he’s trying to shield me from something—or someone. When it seems as though Levi is walking directly toward us, his direction suddenly changes, his reddened and tired eyes landing on Guillermo. “Mi hijo!” Guillermo calls with a genuine pleasure, standing from where he sits to move toward Levi as Levi walks directly past Marcel and I, hardly acknowledging either of us. (“My son!”) Guillermo embraces Levi with a fatherly hug, patting him on the back as he asks, “How are you, my boy?” His hands find the sides of Levi’s face, their gazes meeting for a brief moment before Guillermo relinquishes his hold on him, Valentina rising from her seat to hug Levi in the next moment. He really doesn’t know… But why didn’t Marcel tell him? “Where the hell have you been, huh?” Guillermo asks. Levi offers him a half-hear
⊰ Marcel ⊱The steady beep of the vital signs monitor echoes through the sterile hospital room, a constant reminder of the fragile life hanging in the balance. I sit by Mercy’s bedside, my hand clasped tightly around hers, my eyes fixed on her pale, still face.It’s been a month. A month of watching her chest rise and fall with the help of machines, a month of praying for a miracle that never came. The doctors say there’s little to no brain activity, that the chances of her waking up are next to none.I can’t let her go.Everyone has already come to say their goodbyes. Levi, his eyes red-rimmed and his voice hoarse. Alessandra, her sobs echoing through the hallways. Even Santiago, clinging to Alessandra as she fell apart in his arms.And now, it’s my turn.With a heavy heart, I sign the papers to withdraw medical care, my hand shaking so badly I can barely hold the pen. The doctor gives me a sympathetic look, his hand resting briefly on my shoulder before he moves to remove the tube f
The cold metal of Luciano’s gun presses against the back of my head as I lead him, Fabio, and two of his other men to the parlor. My heart hammers in my chest, each step feeling like a mile, my legs threatening to give out beneath me.I can’t believe this is happening…But it is. It’s real, and it’s terrifying.In what feels like only a matter of seconds, we reach the safe, installed into the wall at the far end of the room, right behind one of Marcel’s antique paintings. With shaking fingers, I input the code, the buttons blurring through my tears.01-29-93Marcel’s birthday.As the lock clicks open, my mind drifts back to the day he told me about this safe, just a few days after our first ultrasound.I had gone to his office, wanting to see him, to be near him. The memory of our baby’s strong and steady heartbeat was still fresh in my mind, filling me with a joy I couldn’t contain.When I walked in, he looked up from his desk, concern etched on his handsome face. “Is everything okay
⊰ Marcel ⊱We take out Catalina’s men swiftly and efficiently, our synchronized movements honed by years of working together. In mere minutes, the only sound is our own controlled breathing and the distant crackle of flames where Rick set the charges.I stride into the house, my footsteps echoing on the polished hardwood, the metallic scent of blood hanging heavy in the air. Slumped bodies lay strewn in our wake, crimson pooling beneath their still forms.Catalina sits on a chair in the center of the room, flanked by Santiago and Levi, their guns trained on her. Even disheveled and terrified, her beauty is coldly arresting—high cheekbones, full lips, the slash of dark brows over glittering eyes.And still…she resembles my Mercy.I lower myself into the chair across from her, gun in hand, and studying her face. “Your face healed up nicely,” I remark casually, as if we’re old friends catching up. “Considering our last encounter, I mean.”She glares at me with pure loathing, her red lips
I sit at the dining table, my hands flat on the polished wood, just as Luciano ordered. The surface is cool beneath my palms, but I can feel the sleek layer of cold sweat beneath them, a result from the fear that burns hot in my veins. Around me, Eboni, Alessandra, Juanita, Salma, and Maria are in the same position, their faces pale, their eyes wide and glassy with unshed tears.We’re surrounded by five of Luciano’s men, their guns trained on us, the metal glinting coldly in the light. The rest of them are still searching the house, their footsteps echoing like a drum of doom.We’re going to die…Luciano stands at the foot of the table, across from me, his dark eyes glittering with malice and triumph. He looks like a king presiding over his court, but there’s something twisted and wrong about him, something that makes my skin crawl and my stomach churn.“Marcello thinks he’s a king, bombing my merchandise, vandalizing my homes,” he scoffs, his voice dripping with venom and contempt. “
As I stand in the foyer, watching Marcel command his men with a sense of effortless authority, I can’t help but feel a mix of pride and apprehension. There’s an intensity in his eyes, a focus determination that I’ve never seen before. His voice is low and authoritative, each word carefully chosen, each instruction precise and unyielding. He’s in his element here, every inch the powerful mafia boss.This is what he was born to do.The thought hits me suddenly, unexpectedly. For as long as I’ve known him, Marcel has been a leader, a protector, a man who commands respect and loyalty from those around him. But seeing him like this, effortlessly taking control, the way every man in the room hangs on his every word, I can’t help but wonder…What will life be like when this is all over?Will he be able to leave this world behind, to adapt to a life of boardrooms and business deals? I can picture it so clearly in my mind—Marcel in a tailored suit, sitting at the head of a conference table, hi
⊰ Marcel ⊱The first rays of morning light filter through the curtains, casting a soft glow over Mercy’s sleeping form. I stand by the bed, buttoning my shirt, my gaze lingering on her peaceful face. She looks so innocent, so pure, her dark lashes fanning out against her cheeks, her lips slightly parted in slumber.Why is she so fucking beautiful?It’s no wonder Ben fell for her. Hell, I can’t blame him. From the moment I met her, I knew she was special, a bright little light in the darkness of my world. But that doesn’t excuse what he did. The thought of his lips on hers, his hands touching her…it makes my blood boil, the anger I’ve been trying to suppress for Mercy’s sake simmering beneath my skin.I knew it. All along, I fucking knew it.…I should’ve confronted him a long time ago…before he tried anything.I played it off last night, tried to reassure her that everything would be okay. But the truth is, I wanted to kill him. I wanted to wrap my hands around his throat and squeeze
As I sit in my study, I can’t help but feel a sense of déjà vu. It’s Tuesday evening, and once again, I find myself across from Katherine, our usual therapy session underway.“I don’t know what to do,” I confess, my voice barely above a whisper. “Ben…” he kissed me last night. And I’m terrified that if Marcel finds out, it’ll ruin everything we’ve been working towards.”Katherine leans back in her seat, her legs crossed in front of her, her gaze steady and free of judgment. “Mercy,” she says softly, her voice filled with gentle understanding. “We’ve talked about this before. Secrets and lies, they’ve only ever harmed your mental health in the past. They create barriers, breed mistrust. If you want to build a strong, healthy relationship with Marcel, honesty is key.”I nod, swallowing past the lump in my throat. I know she’s right. I know that keeping this from Marcel will only eat away at me and create more distance between us. But the thought of telling him, of seeing the hurt and an
As I step into the lab, a sense of finality settles over me. This is it, the last time I’ll be working with Ben and Pablo on the drone project. A part of me feels a twinge of sadness at the thought of saying goodbye to this little haven of science and innovation, but I know it’s for the best. Marcel and I are finally in a good place, and I don’t want anything to jeopardize that.Just one more month. One more month and this will all be over…right?While I’m now more hopeful of where Marcel and I stand, there’s the lingering thought, the creeping fear of time running out. I have no idea how close they are to finding Luciano, let alone what the plan is to get rid of him.Trust him. Trust Marcel. He said he’ll get it done. It’ll get done.“Hey guys,” I greet Ben and Pablo, forcing a cheerful note into my voice as I make my way to the lab table. “I just wanted to stop by and check on the calculations for the new drone model…for old time’s sake.”Ben glances up from his computer, his green
⊰ Marcel ⊱The silence of Mercy’s study envelops me as I step inside, the soft click of the door closing behind me barely registering over the tumultuous thoughts swirling in my mind. My eyes sweep over the familiar surroundings, taking in every detail as if for the first time.The plush couch and chaise beckon invitingly. Towering bookshelves line one of the walls, their shelves laden with countless books, the titles a mix of familiar classics and obscure texts that only Mercy could appreciate. The soft glow of the lamp on her desk casts a warm light, the delicate glass shade casting intricate patterns on the polished wood surface.It’s a sanctuary, a place where Mercy can lose herself in her studies, in the world of knowledge and discovery she loves so much. But as I lower myself onto the sofa, I can’t shake the feeling of unease, of the distance that’s been growing between us, threatening to destroy us.Where did I go wrong?The thought echoes in my mind, a taunting refrain that re