The Madam Of Suburbia Chapter 21

Chapter 21 -  Out of The Shadows

No matter how much you try to escape the twilight of chaos to find the light of hope, the shadows of your past will always drag your fucking soul back into darkness. I knew that I would be living into the bleak underworld forever outcast into the night when I killed for the first time, but I thought I would have a way out that didn't lead to my fucking grave. Every chance I have to grasp onto a sliver of light, something from the abyss drags my damned spirit downwards into the gloom of despair. Even on days I thought would be able to enjoy some hints of happiness, I'm dragged back into the morbid existence that is called my life.

It's been a month since I was shot, and I find myself looking over my shoulder as I keep fucking wondering who will be the one pulling the trigger. I'm in a fucked up triangle of deceit, but overall, my money is on the Russians. They don't hide behind mask, and I've seen them shot someone when they showed any hint of disloyalty. Even the leader, Demetri, will get his hands dirty. I watched him end someone's life with a frying pan because it was there, and he wanted to enjoy beating the life out of the dealer who stole money from him. Right now, Madam looks like a kitten next to Demetri, and Demetri wants to kill Madam because she's been slowly destroying his supply lines for tantrix.

I stop worrying about my past as I rub my finger over the scar from my bullet wound as I sit in front of a man in a hood while thinking that I mentally need to go back to the creature I became in the swamp. I hate to say it, but not showing emotions for a bit actually made my job and life much easier. Then again, my life was way much easier before I let my walls down to show Amber the human beneath all these scars. Amber is the other reason I feel like I'll never experience sunshine in my life, only infinite dusks. However, right now, I need to go to my dark place as I'm about to do something most men wouldn't have the fucking grapes to do.

I stare at the hood as I wonder how Vlad and his comrades found this man. They claim this man knows who Spreadsheet is, and I been tasked to persuaded this man to tell me what he knows. All Vlad told me was the boss wanted it to be slow and painful, but after 48 hours, end it quickly. I let out a sigh as I get up and walk over to the steel table laid out with tools of the trade, a box of gloves plus a Halloween mask with a voice changer built into it. I slip on some gloves, put on the mask, and turn on the voice box. I also pick up a food grater and the bottle of rubbing alcohol. I smile as I feel my dark side breaking free as I walk back over to the hooded man.

 As I pull off his hood, I stop when I see who I'm about to torture for information. Under the hood is Juan "Buho" Cavellero, the leader of The Alma Tomadores gang, which was Chulapa's biggest distributor in California. I ran with them a few times, and they could smuggle almost anything if you were willing to pay the price. However, they are very territorial, and will defend their turf fiercely. I begin to wonder how many hands are in the fucking pot here in Atlanta. I feel Atlanta will be the war zone when all hell breaks loose since more and more shit is happening here all of sudden.

"Do whatever the fuck you want, but I ain't saying shit," Juan replies.

I notice that his brown eyes stare out into space showing no signs of fear. I put his hood back on, and slump back into my chair almost in tears. I know this man's fucking wife and daughter, and I'm now tasked with torturing him until he either tells me what Demetri wants to fucking know, or dies at my hand. I start to wonder if this is truly a test of my loyalty, or Juan truly does work for Madam. Either way, I think this is some fucked up bullshit. I already watched one friend die, but this time, I'm the one behind the trigger as I have to choose loyalty or friendship.

"One question. Which asshole do you work for? The psycho-bitch Madam or that prick in the DEA?" Juan asks.

"Shut the fuck up," I reply as I try to figure out what I'm going to do in this fucked up situation. Also, his comment has my mind fucking racing now as I try to figure out what he means by the prick in the DEA. I immediately think of Richard because he's truly a fucking prick. However, Amber was the one who was in Madam's organization. However, his statement sounds like there is a rogue agent that isn't controlled by Madam, but does their own fucking thing. I swear to any fucking deity that still listens to my damned soul that I'm tired of one lead turning into another fucking web of more deceit.

"So, can we go ahead and pull the fucking trigger? I'm tired of waiting for my destiny."

"Fuck off. What prick in the DEA are you talking about?" I ask as I feel my anger rising as I picture Richard in my mind.

"His name..."

A gunshot rings out inside the empty warehouse as Juan head slumps down, blood flowing from the fresh bullet hole on the left side of his head. I turn around, and see Richard standing there holding a smoking pistol while wearing leather gloves.

Before I can do anything else, he points the gun right at me and orders, "You do anything besides breath right now, and you're fucking dead."

I sit there as he crawls his way over to me as the pistol stays drawn at my head. As he gets near me, he pulls out another pistol, and jams against my temple.

"Hold out your shooting hand," he states.

I hold out my right hand, and he places the pistol in my hand.

"Now, pull the trigger."

I fire off a round as I realize what this fucking dirt bag is doing. He's making me the murderer since my fingerprints are now on the trigger, and there's residue on my hand. He's also has fucked up any chance of finding Spreadsheets since this was Demetri's only lead. In one fucking second, everything has gone to Hell, and I'll be the scapegoat. I so want to beat this fucking shithead to death with my own bare hands, but the cold steel pressed against my head tells me I'll be dead before I even get out of the chair.

"Here's the deal. You'll tell Demetri that the only information Juan provided is Spreadsheets isn't even in the states, but residues in Switzerland. Also, Amber will know nothing about this chat," he says as he takes the murder weapon from my hand. "If anything comes out, I'll make sure the local cops find this weapon next to his body. Understand?"

"Crystal."

"Good, now stand up slowly," he orders.

I stand up as my hands shake while the anger inside me is burning fucking brighter than a wildfire. I want to snap his backstabbing, but I'm the only witness to his betrayal. This fucker has my nuts in a vice, and there's nothing I can do right now.

"Walk!” he barks. He leads me out of the warehouse, and into the parking lot. I see a black cargo van waiting for us as I feel something hard slammed against the back of my head. The last thing I see is the asphalt racing towards my face.