Page 26 of Jagged Line Paradise

I should have pulled it out and stabbed him again while he was weak. But the first took so much from me. Slicing into another human being like that—no matter how monstrous he is—instantly scarred my soul and stole my good sense.

Howcan I be so stupid as to let my humanitystand in the way of my survival?

With one hand on his seeping wound, he reaches down and snatches a handful of my hair. I scream and pull back, trying to fight him off. But even though he’s weakened, he’s still stronger than me.

I’m weak.

I’m weak and I’m stupid and it will costme my life.

Twisting his hand in my hair, he lifts me from the floor and drags me back to the table, slamming my face down against the surface. I don’t turn my head in time and something in my nose cracks as it slams against the sturdy wood, shooting a paralyzing pain through my face, my head, shocking my entire system.

He’s against my back, bending over me, pinning me to the table as the initial harshness of the pain ebbs to something almost resembling bearable.

“You think you can win,puta? Nobody beats me. I’m a fucking god in here. You know that? I’m you’re fucking god. Pray to me.” His voice is heavy with aggression, but somehow strained, too.

He lets go of my hair and slips his hand between my body and the table, grabbing my breast and squeezing as hard as he can in his vice-like grip until I’m screaming for him to stop.

“I said pray to me. Pray to me!”

“Please...I can’t...” I can’t breathe. He lays down so heavily on me that I can’t take in a decent breath.

Crimson flows outward onto the table and I can feel it like a river running down my side. He’s bleeding a lot and I don’t know what that means.

I don’t know what that means until...until the pressure on my chest lessens, until his weight lifts from my body, until he slumps slowly, yet all at once onto the floor by my feet.

I’ve never stood up so fast in my life and the whole world spins when I do. Dizziness and nausea ripple through my entire being as I turn my head to look down at him on the floor. My hair whips around my face in a tangled, bloodied mess.

He’s still.

His eyes are closed.

His chest rises and falls, but it’s slow and shallow.

Go.

This is my second chance.

I screwed up the first time, but the universe is giving me a second chance and I won’t squander it. I bend over him, cautiously tugging on the zipper to his coveralls, pulling it down to expose his belt beneath. I swallow, steeling myself for courage, and slip my hand inside, feeling with my fingers to find his pocket. The left is empty, so I move on to the right.

A weight lifts from my shoulders when my fingers graze a circular, metal ring. I loop my finger inside the ring and yank out his keys. He moans, his eyes blinking, but slowly, barely. There’s a part of me that says I should kill him, stab him again, stand here and watch him and make sure that he dies.

But I’m so pathetic, I just don’t have it in me.

I’m not like him.

I just want to run. I want to get far, far away from here, as fast as I can.

I run for the door and lift, sliding my hands up, one over the other, to push it up as quickly as I can. Light blinds me, and one of my hands comes up to block the glow. It pauses me for seconds as my eyes quickly work to adjust to the overwhelming sunshine.

His truck is there, right in front of me, and I’ve never been so happy to see a loud, obnoxious old pickup truck in my life. I look at the keys in my hand and find the one that unmistakably belongs to the vehicle, and I run to it. I expect to find it locked, but I still reach out and pull on the door handle. It’s not locked, though, and the force of my tug is so strong that I stumble backward as the door flings open and I fall onto my butt. Tiny pebbles and gritty dirt dig into my bare skin, but I don’t even bother to try to brush myself off as I jump to my feet.

I climb into the cab, my heart pounding, stick the key in the ignition, and start the engine. It roars to life with a sound that I think will haunt me forever—though forever won’t be long if I don’t get the hell away from this place.

I back it up, turn it around, and align myself with the tire tracks that brought Mr. Hernandez to this very spot. I let my foot fall heavily on the accelerator and I drive off into the morning sunlight.

Chapter 8

Andrés

---