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A man whose entire being was predicated on violence, blood and death. He killed our child.
The Cartel 3
He put his boot into my stomach and kicked our baby to death. He killed the love I had for him. And he took away the only family his son had ever known.
Left his mother in a bathtub full of blood and a hotshot still hanging from her arm, for a sixteen-year-old boy to find. I should have known it would always come down to this, from the very moment I laid eyes on him in that motel.
I should have known his salvation was too good to be true. Now, I just want to escape. Even if it means I have to kill him to be free. I loved him so much that he became a part of me.
I loved him despite his darkness, despite the impossibility of us ever being able to have a real life together. I fucking worshipped the man.
But false Gods always betray your devotion eventually. They peel off their mask, and you stare at a stranger. They are the shark and you are the prey, and you wonder how you ever thought you could trust them not to devour you on sight.
Covered in tattoos, smoking, the crest of his brotherhood inked on the flesh above his heart. That tattoo was hidden from public view as we stood side by side on the Santa Monica Pier and watched his daughter and my kind-of-not-really stepson ride the Ferris wheel, two teenagers clearly experiencing the first stages of love. Fifteen and sixteen. Junkie mother.
A father who presided over criminals and murderers. Despite her beginnings, she still had traces of the naivety that summer love and an overprotective daddy provided.
File:Cartel 7 3 13.pdf
She still slept soundly at night, from what I could gather. Beside me, leaning against the railing that flanked the pier, the man I was secretly in love with shook his head. Or smiling at all.
I gestured to the two teenagers as they rode in a carriage high atop the Santa Monica coastline. John appeared pained. This was our eternal impasse, our universal hesitation.
We were in love. We wanted to run away, to flee Los Angeles and the eventual death it promised us. And so we were stuck. My heart squeezed painfully.
It was a rare day for any of us to be out, but the weather was so beautiful, John had collected us all in his beat-up car and brought us out into the sunshine for some fudge sundaes and a chance to dip our toes in the cold water. Yes, I was sleeping with two men. I was in love with one of them, and I was terrified of the other. I was ready to leave him, or kill him, or both. Anything to get away. But the world kept spinning, and the cartel kept trading, and I kept my feet on the ground, too scared to make a run for freedom lest a bullet find its way between my shoulder blades.
And she was, to him. She had to make it out of this alive. She had come too far to die now. All I have to do is hold on.
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Someone will come, she thought. They have to. She sucked on the wet dirt beneath her to provide herself with some type of water.
It was all that her body was surviving on, but she knew that it would not be enough for her to make it much longer. Being trapped beneath the steel and concrete was like being buried alive. Physically, she knew that she was injured, but she blocked out the pain as she tried to keep her mind strong. She knew that once her will disappeared she would die, so she tried her best to remain calm.
Her father had always told her that panic sent logic right out the window, and she would need to think clearly in order to survive. The excruciating heat made her feel as if she were roasting in a cement oven. The blocks resting on top of her baked beneath the sun all day, burning her so badly that it felt as if a hot iron were being placed to her skin.Help me!
John Portland. She wished that she could cover her ears, but her hands were smashed beneath the rock, and the only thing she could do was close her eyes.
The final installment of this trilogy is off the charts and is sure jolt you out of your seat. Now, I just want to escape. But false Gods always betray your devotion eventually. It was all that her body was surviving on, but she knew that it would not be enough for her to make it much longer.
I should have known his salvation was too good to be true.
A father who presided over criminals and murderers.
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