Page 59 of The Perfect Stranger

Four words she would always see me as.

“I am your ruin.”

I left Nina on the dance floor. I left her with four words that she wouldn’t yet know what to do with. She should be running. But she won’t. I descended the stairs of the ballroom and was hit by a wall of foul NYC stench. Three men waited on the sidewalk engaged in conversation. Two were Hispanic, finely detailed tattoos exposed above their collared shirts. But that wasn’t what caught my attention. A flicker of metal reflecting the light revealed the badge of a plain clothed officer. His fingers instinctively covered it up, narrowed eyes meeting mine. He exhaled a cloud of cigarette smoke as he watched me turn the opposite way.

I didn’t know him, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t aware of who I was. Perhaps he was Los Santos. Perhaps he was Baja. Or maybe by chance he was a legit, uncorrupted officer. Either way, I wasn’t taking my chances.

I walked to the corner of the street before doubling back on the other side where I claimed a seat at a small diner with a large window frontage. The waitress appeared within seconds and filled a white porcelain cup with stale coffee. I watched as two figures came into view, exiting the ballroom and onto the street. It was Nina and Tomas Garcia. The three men who had been waiting out the front casually extinguished their cigarettes and watched as Nina and Garcia climbed into a cab. When it had begun its journey, the men filed into a parked black sedan before starting their tail.

“You can order real coffee off the menu,” the waitress had returned seeing my lukewarm coffee now cold.

Without answering, I pushed my way out of the booth and hailed the next cab. He swerved into the curb at my sudden appearance and asked no questions when I told him to follow the black sedan. We weaved through the city, bright lights bouncing off the vehicles as we followed each other.

“Keep going,” I instructed the driver as the first cab ahead pulled on its brake lights. We were back at Nina’s apartment block. The black sedan had pulled over twenty yards behind, the engine still running. For now, they weren’t after her. She laughed a farewell to Garcia as the cab continued on its journey with him still in the back. The sedan pulled out while I passed them both in my cab.

“Stop here.” Passing some bills over the seat, I stepped onto the sidewalk in time to see Nina close the foyer security door. I waited a few moments until the lights in her apartment flicked on, her silhouette telling me she was safe. For now. I couldn’t be in two places at once, and if I were to choose, it would be watching over Nina. Entering my own building, I made it back up to my room in time to see through the blur of the curtains, Nina unzips her dress and walks to the bathroom. She was going about her normal routine. Living her life none the wiser that two cartels were breathing down her neck.

I hadn’t moved for the last two hours. I watched the foyer entry and recorded the few people who came and went. It was quiet, nothing extraordinary other than the few residents who lived there returning from their Saturday night out.

Her lights flicked on. I glanced at my watch. It was almost three. Nina never woke during the night. She was a heavy sleeper. Stumbling away from the bed, she paced back and forth before disappearing into the bathroom.

“What is it?” I asked almost hoping she would hear and answer me.

There was no one else in the room, but something had her spooked.

“Come out, Nina, come out.” My breath on the window caused it to fog as I waited for her to re-emerge. What felt like a lifetime passed before she came back into view pulling a shirt over her head.

She was getting dressed.

Only one person would have her acting in such haste.

Garcia.

Police units were on the scene, flashing red and blue lights bouncing off the surrounding buildings. The road was cordoned off, neighbors wrapped in their night robes standing around the barricades being erected.

Before the cab has even pulled to a stop outside Garcia’s, Nina had bolted out the door. The ground officers attempted to intercept, but she was already taking to the stairs of the apartment block.

My cell buzzed. A series of messages.

It was Gabriel.

Brother. This just in from Baja.

I pressed open on the attachments and watched as a montage of photos played on my cell.

It was Garcia.

The first two he was alive, caught unawares and virtually naked as he was woken from sleep. There was fear in his eyes, his mouth open in protest. The next, he was dead. His body was slumped over the bed, his face almost completely blown off. In the background, blood and gore coated the wall and the sheets.

The Garcia she knew and loved existed no more.

Revenge and retribution.

This was what Nina was walking into. This was her new reality.

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