Page 25 of Miguel

When his crying became whimpers, I kicked him, causing him to flip over onto his back. Tears blurred his vision, causing annoyance to flare in my chest.

“Stop fucking crying,” I ordered. He tried to muffle his sobs. “Now tell me, what hand did you use to touch my woman?”

He blinked away his tears. “Wh–”

“You squeezed her fucking shoulder. Hurt her. With which hand?”

“I didn’t.”

“Which. Fucking. Hand.” I pulled out my gun and pointed it at his face. There was a cry and wet sloshing as he slid away from me.

“Damn, he pissed himself,” Ángel muttered. “Nasty.”

“Hold out the fucking hand you touched her with, or I’ll make my brothers do it for you.”

Slowly, trembling, he lifted his hand, but it shook so bad I couldn’t get a good aim with my gun.

I scoffed in annoyance. “Hold his hand still.”

“No! Please!”

His cries went unheard as Chema and Ángel darted forward, gripping him in place, holding his hand up in the air. He tried to struggle, but my brothers were stronger than he could ever hope to be.

I jammed the barrel of the gun into his palm. There was no warning before I pulled the trigger.

Blood splattered and as soon as the shot rang out, Ángel and Chema dropped him and stepped away while he screamed. He cradled his bloody mess of a hand to his chest, begging for mercy.

“Shut the fuck up. You’re lucky I didn’t shoot off each finger.”

“Please! God, please, help!”

My boot connected to his body, pushing him flat on his back again as I stepped over him, keeping him pinned down on the ground. “God isn’t here, I promise you that. But Los Diablos are.”

He cried out louder. When he began hiccuping, I dug the gun into his forehead, keeping him immobile.

“I should fucking kill you…” His lip trembled and I smirked, putting the gun away. “But I won’t. Because I can be merciful, even to those who don’t deserve it. Now, here’s what’s going to happen. I’m going to date Señorita Flores. I’m going to fuck her and get her fat with my babies, and you’re going to watch every fucking day as I kiss her hello and goodbye, and you’re going to mind your own fucking business. Don’t fucking talk to her except to tell her that policies have changed. And if you breathe a word of this to anyone, do you know what’s going to happen?”

He trembled, but kept his lips firmly shut.

I dug my boot into his chest and hand. “I asked you a question, motherfucker.”

“N-no…”

“I’m going to kill you. I am going to rip you apart and feed you to my fucking dogs. Nobody will ever be able to find your fucking remains. You don’t say shit to your family, to the police, no fucking body.”

“I promise.”

“And if you ever look at my woman again, I’ll gouge your eyeballs out and shove them so far down your throat, you’ll fucking choke.”

He audibly gulped and nodded.

And I knocked his ass out again, striking a fist to his temple. He fell into his own pile of piss and tears and I shoved away from him with disgust.

“Damn, Migue.” Loco clapped a slow applause. “Didn’t think you had that shit in you.”

“For real,” Ángel chimed in. “You put the fear of God into that motherfucker.”

“Not God.” I turned away. “Of Los Diablos.”

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