Thread: Drugs and Money [Chai & DeRe]

The first time Gato had raped a woman he was barely even a man. Since then it had become almost a hobby to him, or perhaps an art form. Certainly he never missed the opportunity to indulge and violated every victim as vigourously as he could. Even among his depraved peers it had become notable, something that drew a mingled response of amusement and scorn from them. Of course it wasnt the cruelty of the act that drew their attention, but rather the enthusiasm, which seemed childish or unprofessional to most. He had certainly been savouring the idea of having Sofia for some time. Shed made quite an impression on the late Leos fellow gang members, even the most jaded of whom had been impressed with her raw sexuality. They always competed to have the most appealing arm candy, but Sofias face and figure had certainly been superior to the girls they usually swept up from the clubs. Something of this jealousy had played a role in her erstwhile lovers downfall while his faults were purely professional, the fact he was fucking a smoky-eyed well-rounded Venus definitely helped ease the trigger fingers. Now Gato was pounding her as painfully as he could, striving to compound her degradation. He wanted he needed her to know there were worst things than dying before he put the bullet in her pretty face. If he couldnt be afforded the indulgence of a leisurely torture session, then at least he would violate her mentally and physically, and destroy her soul before her body. So Gato slapped, twisted and clawed at her with every thrust, ensuring it would hurt as much as possible. If he had been spared a few moments to think about it, maybe Gato would have realized how convenient this whole set-up was. He had been sent out to a lonely location with a woman, the unspoken outcome being obivious to all, almost as if it were a perfectly-baited trap. Moreover Guevo had no special regard for him in fact he had been partnered with the one guy he never seemed to get along with. Perhaps if Gato had possessed more of his namesakes cunning, he would not have blundered into such a supicisious rendezvous, to be caught with his pants literally around his ankles. The two new arrivals were the brothers Lanegro the brutish Carlos and his more urbane younger sibling Damien . Impeccably attired in plain black suits, this sinister duo were local lieutenants for Los Zetas, the cartel which claimed Texas as a playground. Gato and Guevo belonged to the Gulf gangs and consequently were rivals. Upon American soil both groups tried to avoid extensive bloodshed, preferring to deal more discreetly to avoid official attention. But the threat of sudden savage violence hung over every meeting, and on this occasion the cold night air stunk of it. For his part Guevo could not understand why Los Zetas, and in particular the man they called Angel, would be so interested in some random whore. He could have his pick of the finest blond blue-eyed gringa putas yet for some reason he was taking a risk to claim this half-breed. Certainly when Guevo had gotten the call earlier that evening, his curiosity had overwhelmed his concern. For some time now he had been Angels inside man in this branch of the Gulf Cartel, making excellent money by covertly sabotaging his supposed boss while appearing to be his most devoted servant. That curiosity compounded when they arranged to have the girl rescued or at least spared an immediate execution. The ever-sensible Guevo could only assume that the notoriously cold Angel affected some kind of feelings for the dusky bitch, an idea that struck him as utterly preposterous. It amused Guevo to see Gato so embarrassed and clueless while he never really detested the man, he had no fondness for those that flaunted their sadism. The redheaded gunman much preferred his atrocities to remain discreet. So erasing the Cat from this earth was certainly no grief to him. Above all, Santa Muerte needed a sacrifice. The desert was thirsty and only a decent bloodletting would sate it. That was the only force in the universe that Guevo truly feared, and he had no problem crossing his current employer if it meant furthering his interests in the world beyond. While Gato was distracted by the brothers, Guevo swiftly and silently stepped up behind his nominal partner and jabbed a stiletto like a needle in his neck. As a master assassin he knew the exact spot to strike, and Gato was dead before Guevo could finish muttering his pious apology. The brothers watched on with distant amusement, the same way one might look upon a bug hitting a windscreen. Nicely done, rojizo , drawled Damien. Turns out the cat only had one life, eh? All three men turned their gaze from the corpse to the girl silently sobbing on the car hood, her white ass glinting in the moonlight, an angry red mark rising up from where it had been struck. I hope, said Guevo with a cold voice, I sincerely fucking hope that this bitch is worth the charade, because this is going to take some selling. A pistol report split the night, followed by a sudden pained curse from Guevo. Carlos had shot him in the foot, with a superb aim for such a sudden shot in poor light. There you go Guevo, you can tell your man some bullshit story about how Los Zetas jumped you, chortled the psychotic thug. Dont worry about this little fuck machine, he said as he slapped Sofias ass right on the red welt, she wont be tellin anyone about our little date. With that he seized Sofia, wrenched her to her feet, and hissed in her ear, Now stay quiet and you can lie on the back seat. Cause trouble and youre in the boot. Well be going then, amigo , said Damien wryly. Keep your end of the deal and Angel said hell keep his. Tell your esteemed boss that it was him who took the bitch though, he really wanted him to know that. With a curt nod, the wiry figure returned to his car, while his brother threw Sofia onto the back seat and covered her with a blanket. Stay quiet senorita ! Or you gonna wind up leaving your bones out here anyway, okay? Then he joined Damien in the front and the car quickly rolled off into the black morass of the night. Guevo grimaced at the dull pain in his foot, and carefully hobbled back over to his own car. He didnt spare the dead, half-naked Gato a second glance. Taking his phone from the dashboard he tried to form the words hed need in his fractured mind. Goodbye bitch, hope we never meet again, he said to himself with a weary humour. Guevo could only assume she was going to be sold into sexual slavery in some Zetas hellhole, like many girls before her. Perhaps she would have been better off with a bullet after all, he considered, starring up at the starry spread above. Blessed be Santa Muerte, keep me from your loving hands one more night .