Page 26 of Velvet Deception

I’d killed him. I’d killed both of them. With ease. With pleasure.

I’d killed.

And it wasn’t the first time. As the relief hit me that I’d removed the danger from this home, that I’d solved the problem of a threat directed at Sofia and Ramon, I understood that this might be who I was.

“Diego?”

I turned to Ramon’s small voice. Breathing steadily, I pivoted to face the mother and son on the couch. She clutched him, holding him so tight as she sobbed. Tears spilled down her face. Squeezing her eyes shut, she hugged her son to her and rode out the trauma of what had just occurred.

Ramon, so small but smart, looked up at me without hesitation. His lower lip trembled, but he didn’t cower, holding his mother just as tightly.

“You’re bleeding,” he said.

So are they.

All I could reply with was a grunt. I nodded, agreeing with his statement of what was obvious.

“I will handle this.” I watched Sofia shake and cry, stuck in shock. “Stay with her.”

He nodded, fast and jerkily.

“Stay with your mother while I get rid of them.”

“Yes, sir.”

Sir?

I narrowed my eyes.

Sir?

A flicker of a memory puzzled me. Was I used to being called that? Did others refer to me like that?

I shook the thought off. Now wasn’t the time for it. Like Ramon had pointed out, almost numb and shell-shocked, I was bleeding. These two men had. The floor was soaked with blood, and I knew just how to handle it.

Have I done this before?

Moving on autopilot, I worked quickly and efficiently to bundle the men in sheets. Wiping up their blood wasn’t a challenge, either. That muscle memory freaked me out again as more and more recalls popped up.

I’ve done this before?

I’d killed men.

Before I was knocked out, I’d disposed of bodies, too?

I didn’t give myself the chance to dwell on it. Trusting Ramon to stay put with Sofia as she spiraled deeper into shock and closed her eyes from the bloodbath, I dragged the men outsidethe back way. Checking my surroundings for anyone watching, I dismissed the many candles and lanterns lining the street for Noche de las Velitas.

A dumpster a few houses down the street was as good a place as any other to toss the bodies of the druggies. On my next trip back and forth, I collected all the rags and towels I'd used to mop up the blood. Using a disinfectant, I operated on the autopilot of my muscle memory leading me to know how to clean it up with perfection.

Only when I was certain I’d bleached and mopped every last drop of blood did I sigh in satisfaction.

I whipped off my shirt and threw it into the dumpster before I walked back to the mother and son.

The second I entered, I looked down at the woman, my angel, and wondered how she could accept the fact that she’d brought a deranged killer into the safety of her home.

11

SOFIA

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