Page 42 of Vicious Hearts

The doctor's words act like a balm to my anxious mind, but the tension in my muscles remains as I sit by Ariadne's bedside. Her small frame is bruised and bandaged, a result of the savage violence she had endured. Her eyes are ringed with dark circles; exhaustion and lack of sleep tattooed across her soul.

She cries as we talk, tears streaming down her face as her words scatter between shaky breaths. She recounts the terrifying moments she watched the car burst into flames before the van drove off, believing I was lost to her forever. The pain etched in her eyes causes my fury to emerge once again, sinking its teeth into me completely. I’m mad at myself for not being able to protect her. Angry that I had thought it safe for even one second to travel through the streets without security.

I reach out and gently brush a strand of hair from her face, savoring the softness of her skin. My lips press against her forehead in a delicate kiss before I stand to my full height and tell her I’m not going anywhere.

“Don’t leave me.”

Her voice is barely a whisper as her limp fingers slip from my grasp. Her body is wracked with exhaustion, begging for sleep. I gently tuck the blankets around her and stand at her bedside, watching over her.

The room is dimly lit, casting shadows across her face as she drifts off into slumber. I can hear the soft sound of her breathing, deep and steady. I brush a lock of hair from her forehead, a surge of protectiveness overcoming me. Nothing matters now other than keeping her safe and making sure nothing or no one touches her again. Even if that means a few good men need to lose their lives.

* * *

I standin the circular driveway looking at my soldiers, Attila to my right. It’s not often we have gatherings such as these. I’ve never had to turn on one of my own men in this way – but he made an enemy of me first.

We gather in the darkness, betrayal heavy in the unforgiving shadows surrounding us. I regard each one of my men with the same stony face of the leader I’ve become. I am a generous man, but I’m brutal in my need for loyalty. Treachery of any kind won’t be tolerated or accepted.

I’ve built an empire from the bottom up, and never once did I feel the need to be disloyal or break a trust to pave my own way. Today, someone here would pay the price for forsaking their allegiance to me and breaking the trust I had placed in them.

Betrayal. It is a virus that spreads rapidly and infects everything around it, weakening the foundations of my organization. Today, I need to purge my men of this poison, and in doing so, reaffirm the commitment they’ve made to me and the loyalty they’ve promised.

What hurts most is the trust I’ve placed in them. The belief I had in them when no one else would give them the time of day. Most were unemployable, unequipped and unmotivated. I made them into men. I gave them pride and showed them the way. Demonstrated how you could come from nothing yet still make something of yourself.

The betrayal hangs thick and heavy as a sense of desperation seeps into the night.

“All of you know the recent events that have plagued this house and the institution it belongs to. I’ve entrusted you all to protect this house and everything in it. Everyone in it. I took you all from nothing and made yousomething,”I hiss. “And I say this in the most respectful way, because I too came from nothing. But I sweated blood and tears and made something of myself. I opened my home to you, and I helped you grow. I support your families, and I pay for your weddings. Your children attend the best schools and never want for anything.”

My voice rises as I talk, remembering that someone here betrayed me. When I consider everything I’ve done for these men, everything of me that I’ve given them, my heart feels like a gaping furnace as fire burns in me. Betrayal. It’s the one sin I cannot – will not – tolerate.

“Somebody here betrayed me. Sold me out to the Mexicans.”

The words slice through the tense air, razor sharp. There is no mistaking my bitterness and anger.

"One of you," I hiss, "betrayed me to those damn Mexicans,” I yell, the muscles in my temple twitching angrily.

I clench my fists, my knuckles turning white as I struggle to contain my fury. The air crackles with tension, everyone looking around nervously. Some shift from foot to foot; no one wants to be accused of doing something if they haven’t. My eyes scan the men, searching for the traitor amongst them. The tension is palpable as everyone holds their breath, waiting for the inevitable explosion.

“Does anyone have anything to say? To confess?”

No one steps forward. No one flinches. The soldiers remain stoic as I pace back and forth among them. It’s so quiet, I think even the residents of the jungle have fled in fear after my roar. When no one steps forward, I nod knowingly, swallowing back the loss I feel.

“Caleph?”

I look at Attila, understand precisely what he’s saying. We didn’t get this far in life by not being on the same page. He gives me a little nod, silently telling me that he’s willing to do it. But I can’t have that. Attila has proved himself time and time again. He can turn a country on its head if he needs to with the leadership he has shown. This is on me. My men need to see this from me. They need to know what betrayal will earn them, and they need the reminder to come from me.

I continue to pace, up and down, the same route until I come to a stop in front of a soldier named Ernesto. He’s been with us for eight months, since he was released from prison and conscripted into my army to support a wife and four young children. I remove my gun from my waistband and cock it, moving it to his forehead. I see the thin film of sweat that coats his face as he starts to shake his head in disbelief. Beside him, Rinaldo, a soldier who’s been with me for almost four years, visibly breathes a sigh of relief.

The gun edges at Ernesto’s head, my dark eyes meeting his, cutting off any opportunity for an argument.

“When you come to work for me, you pledge your allegiance tome. Not to the Mexicans. Not to the Guatemalans. Hell, not even to the government. Your duty is tome!” I roar, before turning my gun on Rinaldo and blowing his brains out.

39

ARIADNE

My body goes rigid as I watch the scene unfold. Caleph's finger tightens on the trigger, and my throat closes in a silent scream. I struggle to stay upright, my knees threatening to give out as I bear witness to the horror before me. I didn’t think he’d do it, but he has. He’s gone and blown a man’s brains out all over another man. I can’t get the image out of my head as bile moves up my throat.

I stumble to the bathroom, barely making it to the toilet before vomiting. My entire body shakes as I lay on the cool tiles, trying to calm my racing heart and catch my breath.

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