Page 41 of No Sweeter Poison

“Big fucking mistake.” Callie seethes.

She lunges but never connects with my body. The car swerves abruptly and a popping noise fills the air, like a balloon being deflated. From one second to the next, we’re swerving off the road where Ron crashes into a pole. And in that moment, I think, I’m going to die just like Mom did.

T he airbags deployed. It takes a minute for my vision to come back into focus.

Two car accidents in one summer. I fear I’ll never feel safe in a vehicle again.

It’s a miracle I didn’t fly through the windshields and instead, landed on the floor. I do a quick inventory for any injuries: breathing is fine, fingers can move, toes are all still attached to my body, head hurts but isn’t bleeding. I sit up and look around, noticing Callie’s head is bleeding and the other woman is only half-conscious. Up front, the man with the gun is coughing and Ron groans, struggling to reach for his seatbelt.

The man looks up and sees something, someone, cutting a clean line across the road and toward the car.

He curses and reaches for the gun behind him. He unbuckles his seatbelt and reaches for the door handle but it swings open and he’s yanked out by the collar of his shirt. Bullets are fired followed by a howling scream and the snap of breaking bones. I scramble into a sitting position and watch the man’s body crumble to the ground.

Callie reaches for something under the seat and produces a gun which she fires the moment her door swings open. The airbags deployed in the back as well so her body is half concealed as she gets pulled out of the car. The Asian woman beside me regains consciousness and struggles to remove her seatbelt. Her eyes settle on me and I crawl to the other side of the car just in time to see a pair of hands wrap around Callie’s jaw and with a swift flick of the wrists her neck snaps.

A scream escapes my lips and I press my hand over my mouth to smother the sound. The door swings all the way open this time and Alejandro looks down at me, shirt covered in blood, eyes on fire. The woman behind me lifts her arm and Alejandro fires his gun twice, never breaking eye contact with me.

He reaches down, secures a hand around my upper arm, and yanks so hard I think my shoulder’s been dislocated. He ignores the whimper of pain that leaves my lips as he drags me across the asphalt towards a car parked a few feet away. Diego steps out of the passenger’s side and opens the back door.

Alejandro all but flings me in the direction of his brother. When I dare to steal a glance at him, he looks murderous.

“Get in the fucking car, Dahlia.”

Oh, he’s mad mad.

I have no sense of self-preservation because despite almost being kidnapped less than five minutes ago, I can’t find it in myself to do as he commands. All I see when I look at him is the gun in his right hand and the splatter of blood along the left side of his jaw. Whose blood is it? How did he kill them?

How many times has he killed before?

Stunned silent, the only thing keeping me from shutting down is the adrenaline pumping through my veins. I hear the roar of blood rushing to my head, ears ringing like I’m standing inside an alarm clock. Diego places a hand on my upper arm and I flinch.

Alejandro turns on the balls of his feet as Ron stumbles out of the car, arm raised, finger on the trigger. “Narvaez—”

He doesn’t finish his sentence.

Alejandro grabs the wrist holding the gun, snaps it back, and spins Ron around. Gripping him by the back of the neck, he rams Ron’s face into the driver’s side window and I scream, my entire body flinching at the sound of shattering glass as I turn and cover my ears.

“Wesley,” Alejandro says by way of greeting, each word hissed through gritted teeth. “I thought I told you not to bring your shit into my territory.”

How much force does it take to push a human skull through a car window? I don’t know.

Alejandro drags Ron’s body along with ease, despite them both being the same height and weight, which is massive. Probably two hundred pounds of lean, hard muscle, the shape of Ron’s strong body visible through his suit. And Alejandro grabs him like he weighs nothing, this time ramming his skull through the back window and it shatters. When he pulls Ron’s face back, little shards of glass are embedded into his skin.

I’m terrified. Every cell in my body seizes with fear, my nerves shot to Hell each time I hear the crack and crunch of broken bones. Because of his size and sheer strength, Ron’s able to fight back, landing a few swings, but barely. Alejandro is faster, smarter, angrier. The entire altercation is over in less than two minutes, ending with Ron’s skull caved in, and Alejandro’s fingers dripping blood.

Breathing heavily, he stalks back to the car, and when I think he’s going to grab me again, I scramble into the backseat where Lettie is polishing a gun.

I watch as Alejandro pauses at the driver’s side door, hand hovering over the handle. His entire body vibrates with tension. I can practically feel it.

What I don’t feel is remorse.

Four dead corpses, all because of me, and I can’t find it in me to care because those people were going to hurt me. At least Alejandro has never lifted a finger against me. Although tonight he looks like it’s taking every ounce of self-control not to. Somehow, I don’t blame him.

He killed those people because of you, whispers the voice in the back of my head. You should be ashamed. Terrified. Remorseful. This is all your fault.

Yet, it doesn’t feel that way. I’m not afraid because he killed Ron, Callie, and the others. No, it’s quite the opposite.

He killed those people for you, I think.