Present
June 21, 2013
3:04a.m.
Trigger warning: graphic sexual violence is mentioned later on in the chapter.
Corrine drove with urgency, but not to where she was told to go. No, she had other plans. Call it pride, call it foolish, call it plain stupid. She'd decided that instead of immediately following Bleu's plan, she would take a detour to see her supposed bestfriend. A confrontation needed to happen, or at least that's how she felt at that moment.
Had Val known this entire time what Los was planning? Was she innocent? As she sat outside of Val's home, these questions played on a constant loop before she got up the courage to get out of the car and find out straight from the source. She braced herself as she trekked up the cobblestone walkway, not sure what she was to expect.
All of this was new to her, but she wasn't naïve enough to assume that, if Val really was guilty, there wouldn't be a fight of some sort. Fighting, she was used to and ready to do if necessary.
Ringing the doorbell frantically, she leaned against the frame of the door as she waited for her 'friend' to answer. On cue, the door swung open revealing the wild image of Valencia, who'd been posturing to spew cuss words at whoever was bold enough to ring her doorbell like that. Upon seeing Corrine, however, her eyes widened as if seeing a ghost.
Corrine kept her expression neutral as she gauged Val's reaction. It was even more obvious, in that moment, that Val was indeed aware of what was supposed to happen to her and Bleu. Her eyes narrowed; Valencia caught the hint and made a move to slam the door in her face. Corrine stuck her foot out and wedged herself between the opening, shoving both Val and the door back.
"You knew," there was no question, at this point it was clear that she'd betrayed her. Val steadied herself, squaring her shoulders as if preparing for the unexpected.
"I did," she nodded in confirmation.
"How long has your husband been planning this?" Corrine asked as her fists clenched at her sides.
Val exhaled deeply, chuckling a bit. "It's been a long time coming, since before you two started your little fling."
"You conniving ass bitch-"
"Don't give me that, babe. I warned you way back when you confessed to me, that this life wasn't for you. Did you think this shit was a game? The moment you got involved with Bleu you became collateral damage, boo. That's just how it goes."
"So you were just going to let your husband kill me?" Corrine shouted. Val turned her head to her right, staring down the hallway before reverting her attention to Corrine.
"I tried to save you multiple times, but you wouldn't give him up! When O'Riley came to your house the night Richard was killed, you had the option then, to give him up. Who do you think kept pushing for him to get you to give Bleu up so that you could walk free? You chose him over and over, so I had to make a choice, too. It was either you and Bleu, or my family, and I damn sure chose us!"
That was the straw that broke the camel's back, Corrine charged for Val, who'd braced herself for impact, only for Corrine to be tackled from the side. Her head banged against the carpeted floor, she hissed in pain as she tried to blink her vision back to normal. As her doubled vision cleared, she came face to face with the devil himself, Connor O'Riley.
******
The flame of his lighter flicked, lighting the end of his cigarette. Bleu waited, Smith & Wesson in hand, for Los to be man enough to show himself. Just like he was counting on, ten minutes passed before bullets shot through the front door. The door was kicked off the handle as Los walked across the threshold. Bleu chuckled at the dramatics before putting his cigarette out on the step he was sitting on.
They said nothing as they had a silent battle with their eyes. Bleu's shoes left slow thuds as he languidly walked down the stairs. "Nice of you to finally show, hermanito," he spoke casually as if they hadn't been moments away from killing each other.
"Ya tu sabes," Los shrugged, gun in hand, smirk crooked and sinister. "I like to make an entrance."
They were now a few feet away from each other, hoping to read the other's thoughts. Los stood with pride. He held no regrets about his actions; his betrayal of the man he once deemed as his brother was nothing to him. After over a decade of following after this man--being his sidekick--it was his turn to shine. To rule. With all that he'd contributed to this empire that Bleu undeservingly ruled over, it was evident to him that he was the one meant to be king.
Bleu, on the other hand, was fuming. Despite not showing it on the outside, he'd been boiling. In this business, he'd learned long ago that trusting too many was easily a death sentence. That's why it'd only been the two of them for so long. Looking at the smug, victorious expression on Los' face, it was hard to contain the anger he felt for him because of his betrayal, and himself for not paying closer attention to the growing jealousy of his right hand.
It wasn't as if he hadn't noticed the way Los would struggle to hide his disdain during their rounds. It wasn't as if he hadn't noticed the envious way he'd look at his homes, his cars, or his wealth. Truth be told, he'd noticed it all. Thing is, he'd never expected him, his brother, to act on his feelings. He never expected to be stabbed in the back like this. Now, that mistake might've just cost him his life and everything he'd worked for.
"You want my position so bad that you'd do some pussy shit like this?" Bleu asked, surface still as unmoved water, despite his clenched fists.
"Mira, call it whatever you want. That's just the game, baby." Los shrugged lifting his gun between Bleu's eyes. Staring down the dark, hot barrel of Los's pistol managed to finally bring out a visible emotion in Bleu: fury.
In a flash, he reached for the gun, bending Los's arm in an uncomfortable position causing him to drop it. Cocked and loaded, the gun fired just as it hit the ground. A sharp elbow to the jaw sent Los stumbling backwards.
"It's just the game, Carlito? Bitch, I am the goddamn game!" He yelled at Los's hunched form.
"See," he said standing back up, clutching his jaw. "That's your problem. You think you're more than what you are while everyone else, including me, is just supposed to bow down to you or some shit. I got news for you: you wouldn't be shit without me!"
Los charged for Bleu's form catching him off guard. The ground shook as Bleu was sent falling backwards, his spine collided against the marble tiled floor. Noticing his dazed state, Los seized the opportunity and connected his fist against Bleu's jaw- his head snapped to the side. Blood tinged his tongue, he spit it from his mouth onto the floor. Los didn't let up, he sent another to the opposite side.
"Arrogant son-of-a-bitch! I couldn't wait for this day," he postured to clasp his hands around Bleu's neck, but a head-butt to the nose sent him backwards.
Bleu gingerly rose from his vulnerable position, wiping the blood from the corner of his mouth. Smudged copper added color to his cheek. His nostrils flared. He only saw red as his eyes designated Los as his target. Ramming Los back first into the staircase-returning the favor from before-he relentlessly threw blows to the bald head of his former bestfriend.
"And that's your problem," Bleu started as his hands wrapped around Los' sweat covered throat. "Real kings make their own way without expecting handouts. Only bitches do what you did!" He spat, quite literally, sending a sharp, back handed smack to an already dizzy Los.
Los toppled over on to the floor, turning over on his back with another gun pointed at Bleu. Chuckling with blood smearing his once white teeth, "That's why 'real' kings always fall, Cezar."
***********
"Bitch, did you really think Los would leave me here unprotected? You really are a rookie, babygirl." Val teased. Corrine was yanked upright by her hair. She held back a grimace, though she couldn't stop her eyes from watering.
Connor rubbed his mouth along her cheek trailing to her ear. "Did you miss me?" Out of reaction, Corrine snatched her head away--as far as she could--out of pure disgust.
"Get away from me you nasty ass motherfucker- shit!" She hissed when he tugged on her hair, catching her off guard. Anger boiled inside of her as she swore she felt several strands of her hair being ripped from the follicles; her scalp was on fire.
"Watch your mouth, Corrine," Val sang, with her arms crossed across her chest. "All I have to do is say the word and it's over for you. I don't know why your ass was stupid enough to think you could pull up on me alone, but whatever. Your mistake." She shrugged.
Corrine tried to charge for her, despite being restrained. Val jumped back, out of instinct, laughing. "I. Wish. You. Would," she drug out, confidently strutting over to Corrine, leaning in close to her face.
"You better hope he never let's me go, bitch! I'll beat the snake out of you!" Venom spewed from her lips, the fire in her eyes told Val that she'd never been more serious of anything else in her life and, though she was smart enough to keep it to herself, she was scared.
The corner of her mouth quirked in a sneer. "Then I'll make sure that doesn't happen," she said with her voice low and threatening before casting a confirming nod behind Corrine's head to Connor. "Keep the noise down, I'm going to bed."
Val walked down the hall which Connor came from, leaving Corrine with her worst nightmare. He wasted no time shoving her into a wooden table full of framed photographs. Catching herself on the edge, she turned around ready to chuck one of the frames at his head, but his caught her wrist in the air. His large hand gripped her wrist with force that wasn't needed.
She slapped him with her free hand, but it wasn't nearly enough to get him off. He hardly flinched, simply clenched his jaw before restraining that hand. She wriggled in his arms, teeth gritting. Grinning sadistically, Connor brought her face close to his. "I've always wanted to be this close to you, you know. Not that this was how I imagined it, but I guess I'm finally getting my wish."
"Fuck you," She spat.
He smirked before backing up, giving himself space. Gripping the side of Corrine's head, he slammed her head against the table dragging it along, purposely colliding with the pictures, before tossing her to the floor. She tried to crawl backwards, away from his towering form. He kneeled on the floor, latching onto her ankle and pulling her closer. Mustering up strength from her adrenaline, she wriggled her ankle free and used the bottom of her foot to kick him in the face.
His adrenaline flowed just as strongly as hers did so, once again, he shook it off and continued for her. This time he captured both ankles and drug her back. "You won't get away that easy, Corrine." Yanking her legs open, he forced himself on top of her.
She spat in his face, pissing him off enough for him to ball his fist and connect it with her cheek. The force was strong enough to make her dizzy. Through blurred vision and a pounding headache, she struggled to amass enough strength to knock him off.
He wrapped his hand around her throat so tight, she felt the veins bulging in her forehead. Her eyes felt as if they were popping out from her skull as her windpipe was shut off from receiving oxygen. She was no longer focused on hitting as she desperately clawed at his fingers with her short nails.
Connor seized the opportunity to shove his other hand up her shirt. He squeezed her breast roughly, his nails stabbed the skin. The hand around her throat loosened enough to allow some air to seep into her lungs, but still tight enough so she knew that all it took was one wrong move and she'd be back to asphyxiation.
"Don't fucking move, or I swear to God I'll kill you!" He whispered menacingly in her ear. She heard the jingle of his belt buckle, the hurried unzipping of his pants. Tears pooled in her eyes while she stared at the ceiling wishing for a savior, praying for salvation. He tugged her leggings down far enough to shove himself inside of her. This time, she did cry, uncaring of the façade she was supposed to keep.
Connor breathed heavily in her ear, kissing her cheek oddly lovingly. Her stomach curled in disgust and self loathing. She wanted to regain her dignity. As his neck was exposed to her, she caught off guard by biting into his skin. Her teeth tore his flesh. He howled in pain, removing his hand from her neck to cover the open wound on his own.
She didn't give him time to retaliate; she threw her elbow to his nose. A nasty cracking sound let them both know that she'd broken it. She repeated the action twice before wriggling far enough from beneath him to send him flying backwards with her feet.
From behind the front door, gunshots caused the two of them to momentarily redirect their attention. The door was thrown open and three gun-toting figures aimed their weapons at Connor.
"Put your hands in the air where I can see them, O'Riley!" Kyle commanded.
"Finally," Corrine said exasperated and completely spent.
"I'm sorry I couldn't get here sooner," Kyle sympathetically said, taking in Corrine's condition.
"There's someone else in the room." Corrine ignored her pity. She was just thankful that the calvary had finally arrived. Before she made it to Val's, she noticed a car resembling Connor's on one of the blocks she passed on the way and put two and two together. A quick text message with Connor's name and Val's address is all she had time to send, hoping that Kyle would understand what she meant.
Her instinct is what saved her life tonight and from here on out she'd have more faith in herself.
********