Sierra

D o you know that feeling deep in that pit of your stomach that warns you that something is going to go terribly wrong? Almost like a sixth sense, like you just know. Well, that feeling lingers in my stomach as I drive away from the church. I should have accepted Julians help, at the very least he would have had a cleaner to take care of the body. But leaving him there felt like poetic justice. Forcing him to take that gun the way he would have abused that kid had I not been there was everything he deserved. That kid deserves the truth to come out, and for him to know he's not alone.

I grab my phone after leaving it inside the car. I didn't want to deal with having the pull of needing to call Julian. This was something I needed to do on my own. I needed time or at least that's what I keep telling myself. I can't keep wanting him around me when he's not really mine.

Glancing at the notifications on my phone as best I can while driving and seeing multiple missed calls from Julian, along with text after text.

Julian : Where did you go, little Mu?eca?

Julian : Why are you hiding?

Julian : Did you seriously go on an assignment without me?

Julian : Wait until I get my hands on you.

Julian : I'll find you, little witch.

Julian : And when I do… You're going to take every fucking thing I give you like a good little slut.

Julian : See you soon.

Fuck, he can't possibly know I'm not returning to the hotel room. A shiver runs down my spine at the thought of him finding me. Like this little game of cat and mouse will get me caught in a way that I am almost excited for. Until that sinking feeling comes back, warding me off like something bad is about to happen.

As I pull my car into my normal parking spot by the backside of my bar entrance. I sit there for just a few more seconds, debating on going back to the hotel room. But I left the bridesmaid dress here, knowing full well I was going to be back. I rest my head on the steering wheel and let out a loud exhale. Turning towards my back seat, I pull on my bag until it's next to me on the passenger side; slowly zipping it open I place the white mask and my gun inside and zip it back up.

Stepping out of the jeep, the silent night is almost eerie adding to my already suspicious mind. There's not much of a breeze tonight, there are no stars in the sky, the only lights that surround me are the dim street lights of the parking lot. I quickly pace to the door and move the door handle to find that it's opened.

I definitely locked the door before I left, my mind goes in circles with the words leave now chanting in my head on a continuous loop. Shaking my head, I push the door open and make my way inside, quickly locking the door behind me. The bar is as quiet as it was outside, not a sound out of place as I walk towards the wall where the light switch is.

Turning the lights on, I turn to find the dark eyes that I don't recognize standing directly in front of me. His evil smirk is the last thing I see before everything goes dark.

The throbbing of my head pulls me out of the darkness, every attempt to open my eyes has proved to be difficult with the way the light from the room blares down on me. My throat aches as though I smoked three packs of cigarettes. I groan moving my head from side to side, I try to move my hands but it appears that my hands are tied behind my back with what feels like zip ties.

Fuck . My head.

"W-who are you?" I rasp, generally curious who the fuck came to my house and pulled the jump on me. I fucking should have been prepared, and that thought alone has my rage growing.

"Well, hello, guera. I don't believe we've had the pleasure. I'm Eduardo." He chuckles, and I bite back a response. He's already hit rock bottom which means he's a fucking wild card. He's fucking with the wrong girl.

I groan once more, acting more wounded than I really am. My headache remains pushing my brain against my skull like I was hungover from a huge bender. Pushing the pain aside I move my wrists around, twisting it a few times as I continue to act like a wounded animal.

"W-what do you want?" I whisper, pretending to hold back some fake tears.

"Well, guera. Funny you ask, I had come for Catalina since she is my financée. But it seems like there are too many guards on her tail. Since she decided to backstab me for the Italians. So, I've come to push her to make the right decision." His angered tone comes from in front of me. I have yet to open my eyes to refrain from the headache.

"What do you want from me," I say, continuing distracting him with the questions. Twisting my wrists, I pull on my restraints again and again, until I know I'll be able to rip them right off.

"You know, I asked myself the same question. But according to my research you are practically her family and she'd do just about anything for you. So, I can take you the way my men did and then sell you to the Russians as payment for all their help or she can take your place and save you. What do you think she'd do?" He churns, the annoyance radiating off him spreads throughout the bar.

"It wouldn't matter. You really think I'd let you hurt her?" I laugh and quickly groan at the shooting pain I feel the moment I open my eyes. I look at the blurred version of a dark-haired short man, his darker complexion in what looks like a pair of jeans and back T-shirt.

Straightening my back. "You are nothing, Eduardo. Just as insignificant as your father in the grand scheme of things. I don't know you, but what I do know is that you're a coward."

His eyes widen like he never thought I would risk talking back. Like he just assumed I'd lay back and take whatever he had planned out for me.

If he were a cartoon, his head would probably explode right now. He glares at me as though he's ready to just say fuck it and kill me. At least then maybe he won't try to rape me, not that I would allow him. Once my vision clears a little more, I move my neck around as if I were still somewhat groggy from whatever he injected me with.

Spotting my bag a few feet away, I make a very small and simple plan; escape and grab my gun to kill the fucker.

"You have balls, guera. I like you. Maybe I'll keep you as my own personal little toy instead of selling you off at least for now, and when I'm done with you. I'll just let them have what's left of you." He chuckles. His hands come to his knees slapping them as he stands like he told the funniest fucking joke in the world. The sound of bottles clinking comes from outside, which only causes him to straighten his back and glances around the bar. Walking towards the entrance of the wrap around bar, he moves behind it and grabs a bottle before walking past me straight to the window. He carefully lifts the curtain and peeks outside while opening the bottle, and taking a swig.

Pulling on my restraints, I wait; they are on the verge of snapping. I don't see a weapon near him, but that doesn't mean he may not have one. If it snaps, he may attack before I get the chance to grab my bag.

"You know. The fucking Dominguez family ruined my life. They killed my brother and sister, and then they wanted me to marry her , some little whore. I had everything planned out to destroy them and then my men were killed." The clear liquid swishes as he takes another drink from the bottle.

"They got what they deserved, almost as much as you will. You are a coward, a fucking child compared to the Dominguez family. You'll die the same way your men have. Actually, much, much worse," I say confidently, hoping that he gets angry enough to throw something.

As if I predicted it, he throws the bottle across the room missing me by a few feet, giving me enough time to snap off the zip ties without the sound ricocheting throughout the space.

"Shut the fuck up! Stupid bitch. You know nothing of this fucking world," he screams as he walks towards me. Everything starts to feel like it's in slow motion, his hand goes up ready to punch me. I move my face and grip the back of the chair to be sure I don't fall over while I bring my feet up to his chest, kicking him off me as best as I can. The exertion pushes the chair backwards, but I don't allow the pain on my back stop me from my goal.

Quickly, I run towards my bag and move behind the bar, hiding, in case he pulls out some sort of weapon. My adrenaline starts pumping through my veins as if I were on fire while the asshole catches his breath. Rapidly, I unzip the bag and pull out my gun, carefully holding it in place when a gunshot has me gasping in surprise. Bottles explode while a mixture of liquor pours out from the now shattered bottles on the display shelves, pieces of glass cover the floor while I take cover.

"Come out, guera!" he yells, as he continues shooting around me.

Four, five, six.

Counting the number of bullets, I calculate he should have at least two left. Carefully moving around the bar without accidentally stepping on pieces of glass and staying as low enough that he can't see me. I finally made it around to the other side of the bar.

Seven, eight. Click. Click. Click.

Stupid fuck. I stand up and aim for his left leg before he has the chance to change the clip. His wails echo through the bar as loudly as the gunshots reverberate through, I run to his side kicking the gun further away from him. My gun trained on his face to be sure he doesn't try anything.

"Did you seriously come here alone?" I question him, what a stupid fuck.

"Fucking bitch," he seethes grabbing his wound and applying as much pressure as he can.

The door flings open, I only take one second to glance up, making sure it's not one of his men. Julian's dark chocolate eyes glare at me through the eye hole of his skulled mask. His gun is in his hands as he barges in and stands next to me. His wild eyes look confused, worried, and proud as notices Eduardo on the ground with blood coming out of his leg.

"I've been looking everywhere for you," Julian says, not tearing his eyes away from the man bleeding on my floor. I'm not sure if that comment was meant for me or for him but when his eyes lift to mine as he pulls the trigger shooting the fucker in the other leg, his brown eyes emanate the worry and concern he has for me. He looks at me like he would have killed the asshole if he had done anything. Deep down, I know he would have.