2023-02-03 05:50:44
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Somewhere In Mexico Chapter 12
"Querido, I’m heading out now. I’ll call once the interview’s done," Valentina said, tightening the cap over her dark curls. Her little backpack clinked faintly from the metal zipper tags as she slung it onto her shoulder. She stepped into the parlor where Jorge sat on the worn-out sofa, cradling their two little girls. Jorge rose immediately. The moment he saw her, a gentle pride lit his tired eyes. Despite everything, she still found a way to shine. He wrapped his arms around her, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "If anything feels off, call me. Right away. No second-guessing." Valentina let out a soft laugh, trying to mask the ache in her chest. Her family was everything—her anchor in a storm. She broke away from his arms and scooped her daughters up for a final squeeze before heading out the door. She didn’t know this would be the last time she’d see her family as the woman she was. Valentina had always been resourceful—twenty-six, full of grit, already trying to stitch togethe
Somewhere In Mexico Chapter 13
“Hola. I’m Christanté.” Valentina turned sharply, startled by the voice behind her. A small boy stood barely a foot away. His smile was wide, too practiced for someone his age. His teeth were stained, his clothes worn thin, but he radiated an odd kind of energy. Hopeful, maybe. Or just desperate to be seen. He couldn’t have been more than ten. Valentina crouched down and gently ran her hand over his unkempt hair. The boy chuckled, but the sound didn’t reach his eyes. “I’m Valentina,” she said softly. “What are you doing here, cariño? This… this isn’t a place for a child.” Christanté shrugged. “I work here,” he replied, his smile still fixed in place, almost like it had been stitched to his face. Valentina's stomach clenched. “Work? What kind of work?” He hesitated. The smile faltered. His eyes dropped to the floor like something in him collapsed. “I clean the bar. Serve drinks. And sometimes…” He trailed off, fingers fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. Silence stretched. The
Somewhere In Mexico Chapter 14
Marcus entered the dimly lit room with slow, uncertain steps, both hands gripping the handles of a small, weathered nylon bag. The place reeked faintly of sandalwood incense and something metallic—perhaps blood or rust—lingering under the surface. He stood near the center, unsure whether to set the parcel down or wait for someone to claim it. He was still wrestling with indecision when a soft shuffle of feet broke the silence behind him. He turned instinctively—too quickly—and nearly collided with her. Josefina. She stood inches from him, her breath warm and steady, caressing the nape of his neck. She had a presence like cold silk—elegant and unnerving. He hadn’t heard her enter. "I—I'm sorry. I was sent to deliver this," Marcus stammered, placing the bag on the edge of the bed as though it might explode. He made to leave but froze when her voice cut through the tension. “I said... what’s in there?” Josefina repeated, more deliberately now, her eyes sharp with curiosity. Marcus me
Somewhere In Mexico Chapter 15
It was a Friday night and as always, Euphoria Discotheque was on their usual routine. Valentina stuck her head out from behind the curtains, scouting around for nothing in particular but her attention was drawn to the young man who sat across the room. She must have seen him before but it was quite difficult for her to conclude since he had his back turned at her. But anyways, she had seen more than a dozen men visit Euphoria Discotheque five days in a week, so it wasn't so much of a big deal. She calmly retreated as she felt a surge of anxiety building up within. The voices around her were slowly drowning out and they only filtered into her ears once in a while as muffled sounds. She reached for the little vial sitting on the counter, flipped the cover open and threw the pills into her mouth. She inhaled deeply and made for the dressing mirror. She stood there in her amazonian figure which sat well on her wafer-thin body. She had a decanter shaped waist and her complexion had an impe
Somewhere In Mexico Chapter 16
July 10, Dulsie's ninth birthday. It was mid-afternoon on a Saturday. The gentle breeze swept across the garden as Lucia rushed about to set up the little umbrella shades for the party. Candela had arrived at the early hours of the morning alongside her husband and kids to help her sister set up things for her daughter's birthday party. The kids had run along to go play hide and seek inside the house. Candela's daughter, who, because she had already turned nine, liked to say she was a year older than Dulsie, even though they were really only four months apart. Lucia's husband, Elvio, had stepped out to go get Dulsie's cake and some groceries from the mall. Candela's husband, Esteban attended to the barbecue stand. The meats were only halfway cooked but they still gave out an appetizing smell.In the shades of the backyard, there was the sweet odor of lime and sticky charred sauce and at intervals, the kids would run by to get some chunks of meat and afterwards, return to their play."
Somewhere In Mexico Chapter 1
“No, Mum,” Marcus called over his shoulder, brushing past the kitchen with barely a glance. His voice was edged with fatigue and frustration. “The traffic was hell. I didn’t even make it to Donald’s place. I’m beat.” He paused, nostrils flaring as the smell hit him. “Toasted bread again?” His tone turned sharp. “Seriously, I hate toasted bread.” He disappeared into his room without waiting for a response. In their shared room, Emma was hunched over a sketchpad, lost in her drawing of a glittery, doe-eyed Barbie. Just down the hall, Aiden was carefully painting a picture of Ben 10, tongue sticking out in concentration. From the kitchen, Mrs. Kinney’s voice cut through the calm like a blade. “Emma! Aiden!” she snapped. “Those two better not be wasting time with those ridiculous cartoons again. Always playing, never helping.” The phone rang on the balcony. She stormed out to answer it, muttering under her breath. When she returned, smoke greeted her—the toast had burned to black. The
Somewhere In Mexico Chapter 2
Two long days had crawled by before the punishment was lifted. The moment the lock clicked and the door creaked open, Emma stormed toward her bedroom—only to stop cold in the doorway. Her breath caught. Her chest tightened. The lavender walls she had painted herself, the posters that mirrored her dreams, the DIY décor painstakingly assembled during countless restless nights—all of it was gone. The room had been gutted. The walls were now a bland, sterile beige. Shelves sat empty, and the cozy bedspread had been replaced by a generic factory-clean sheet. “What the hell?” Her voice cracked as she stepped inside. “Mum!” Her scream cut through the silence like a blade. “You can’t just erase everything! This is my room!” Across the hall, Aiden stood at the threshold of his own room, just as stunned. “Where’s all my stuff?” he muttered, stepping in. His sneakers thudded softly against the bare floorboards. The clutter of childhood—comics, action figures, half-assembled model kits—had va
Somewhere In Mexico Chapter 3
Marcus slung his backpack over his shoulder and left the dining room, his footsteps echoing down the hallway. He returned to his room after breakfast to grab the package Eric had entrusted him with. As he reached for it, the backpack slipped from his hands, landing hard on the floor. The seal tore open, spilling fine white powder across the hardwood with a sickening hiss. “What the hell is this?” he muttered, crouching to inspect the contents. He brought it closer to his nose and inhaled deeply. The smell burned his sinuses. His eyes widened in panic. “Shit… this is cocaine.” His chest tightened. Eric had promised him a clean job. No drugs. Just delivery. Before he could process the situation further, Emma and Aiden barged in, rummaging through his wardrobe, eyes wide with shock. Aiden caught sight of the package. "What the hell, Marcus?" he hissed. Emma gasped, but Aiden was quicker, his palm slapping over her mouth to prevent any sound. "Shh!" he urged. "We need to follow him.
Latest Chapter
Chapter 16
July 10, Dulsie's ninth birthday. It was mid-afternoon on a Saturday. The gentle breeze swept across the garden as Lucia rushed about to set up the little umbrella shades for the party. Candela had arrived at the early hours of the morning alongside her husband and kids to help her sister set up things for her daughter's birthday party. The kids had run along to go play hide and seek inside the house. Candela's daughter, who, because she had already turned nine, liked to say she was a year older than Dulsie, even though they were really only four months apart. Lucia's husband, Elvio, had stepped out to go get Dulsie's cake and some groceries from the mall. Candela's husband, Esteban attended to the barbecue stand. The meats were only halfway cooked but they still gave out an appetizing smell.In the shades of the backyard, there was the sweet odor of lime and sticky charred sauce and at intervals, the kids would run by to get some chunks of meat and afterwards, return to their play."
Chapter 15
It was a Friday night and as always, Euphoria Discotheque was on their usual routine. Valentina stuck her head out from behind the curtains, scouting around for nothing in particular but her attention was drawn to the young man who sat across the room. She must have seen him before but it was quite difficult for her to conclude since he had his back turned at her. But anyways, she had seen more than a dozen men visit Euphoria Discotheque five days in a week, so it wasn't so much of a big deal. She calmly retreated as she felt a surge of anxiety building up within. The voices around her were slowly drowning out and they only filtered into her ears once in a while as muffled sounds. She reached for the little vial sitting on the counter, flipped the cover open and threw the pills into her mouth. She inhaled deeply and made for the dressing mirror. She stood there in her amazonian figure which sat well on her wafer-thin body. She had a decanter shaped waist and her complexion had an impe
Chapter 14
Marcus entered the dimly lit room with slow, uncertain steps, both hands gripping the handles of a small, weathered nylon bag. The place reeked faintly of sandalwood incense and something metallic—perhaps blood or rust—lingering under the surface. He stood near the center, unsure whether to set the parcel down or wait for someone to claim it. He was still wrestling with indecision when a soft shuffle of feet broke the silence behind him. He turned instinctively—too quickly—and nearly collided with her. Josefina. She stood inches from him, her breath warm and steady, caressing the nape of his neck. She had a presence like cold silk—elegant and unnerving. He hadn’t heard her enter. "I—I'm sorry. I was sent to deliver this," Marcus stammered, placing the bag on the edge of the bed as though it might explode. He made to leave but froze when her voice cut through the tension. “I said... what’s in there?” Josefina repeated, more deliberately now, her eyes sharp with curiosity. Marcus me
Chapter 13
“Hola. I’m Christanté.” Valentina turned sharply, startled by the voice behind her. A small boy stood barely a foot away. His smile was wide, too practiced for someone his age. His teeth were stained, his clothes worn thin, but he radiated an odd kind of energy. Hopeful, maybe. Or just desperate to be seen. He couldn’t have been more than ten. Valentina crouched down and gently ran her hand over his unkempt hair. The boy chuckled, but the sound didn’t reach his eyes. “I’m Valentina,” she said softly. “What are you doing here, cariño? This… this isn’t a place for a child.” Christanté shrugged. “I work here,” he replied, his smile still fixed in place, almost like it had been stitched to his face. Valentina's stomach clenched. “Work? What kind of work?” He hesitated. The smile faltered. His eyes dropped to the floor like something in him collapsed. “I clean the bar. Serve drinks. And sometimes…” He trailed off, fingers fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. Silence stretched. The
Chapter 12
"Querido, I’m heading out now. I’ll call once the interview’s done," Valentina said, tightening the cap over her dark curls. Her little backpack clinked faintly from the metal zipper tags as she slung it onto her shoulder. She stepped into the parlor where Jorge sat on the worn-out sofa, cradling their two little girls. Jorge rose immediately. The moment he saw her, a gentle pride lit his tired eyes. Despite everything, she still found a way to shine. He wrapped his arms around her, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "If anything feels off, call me. Right away. No second-guessing." Valentina let out a soft laugh, trying to mask the ache in her chest. Her family was everything—her anchor in a storm. She broke away from his arms and scooped her daughters up for a final squeeze before heading out the door. She didn’t know this would be the last time she’d see her family as the woman she was. Valentina had always been resourceful—twenty-six, full of grit, already trying to stitch togethe
Chapter 11
5:30 AM – Cuernavaca, Raúl's Compound The hallway was dead quiet, the kind of silence that only came after too many screams. The girl’s heels scraped the concrete with every step as El Toro dragged her by the hair like a sack of trash. Her nightgown clung to her body—drenched in sweat, dirt, and humiliation. Bruises marbled her legs, fresh and old ones layered like tattoos from the life she’d never chosen. Raúl lit a cigar with a gold-plated lighter and watched them enter like it was just another morning. He leaned back in his chair, behind a steel desk littered with black tar heroin, rolled-up bills, and a 9mm Beretta he kept polished like a trophy. “Elena,” he said coolly. “You know what this is.” She didn’t reply. She didn’t beg either. She’d already spent that energy trying to gouge a client’s eye out with a fork the night before. No one cared why. Raúl had to respond. “El Toro, bring me the gringo.” Barracks, same time The metal door flew open and banged against the wall.
Chapter 10
"Sara, are you set? Come on, let's go or we’ll be late for classes," Olivia called from outside the door. She had stopped by Sara's house as usual to walk to school together. "Sara? Why aren’t you answering me? We’re gonna be late," Olivia shouted again, knocking on the door but receiving no response. She paused and glanced at her phone: 8:47 AM. They still had a 30-minute walk to campus, and with time ticking away, she began to wonder if she should leave without her friend. But then, on second thought, she tried the doorknob. It turned easily, the door swinging wide open. As she poked her head in, she froze. A scream, louder than anything she’d ever known, erupted from her chest. On the floor, Sara lay in a pool of crimson, her neck brutally slit. Blood pooled around her, soaking into the carpet beneath her body. Her eyes, wide and unseeing, stared at nothing, her mouth slightly open, as if trying to speak one last word. Olivia's breath caught in her throat, and her body went cold
Chapter 9
“A'ight Mrs. Carla, I’m glad to announce—you’re pregnant.” Doctor Wyatt beamed, holding up the sonogram. Carla squeezed Burdett’s hand as though releasing him would shatter the moment. Burdett smiled, the kind that stretched from memory to hope. They hadn't expected another child after Aiden. This felt divine. “You’re ten weeks gone, ma’am,” Wyatt added with a nod. “Congratulations, Mr. Kinney.” He extended a hand. Burdett shook it firmly, laughing for the first time in months. Maybe this was God's way of restoring what they thought they had lost with Marcus. Carla, despite the joy, still believed—her son would return. At home, Emma and Aiden sat sprawled in front of the TV. Emma’s eyes barely lifted as Carla walked in. “Welcome, Mom. Hey, Dad.” Aiden, more attentive, perked up. “So? What did the doctor say?” He had popcorn on his lap. Emma reached in, grabbing a handful without looking. Burdett walked over and ruffled Aiden’s hair. “You’ve just been promoted, champ. Big brothe
Chapter 8
The truck rumbled past the final checkpoint at the border between Arizona and Sonora. Ethan Farrell, a man with dead eyes and steady hands, calmly handed over his ID and permit to the customs officer. His face showed nothing. He had done this before. Many times. “Open the dump body,” the officer ordered. Ethan complied without hesitation. The metallic groan of the hydraulic system cut through the desert air as the dump bed rose. The officers climbed in and combed through it like dogs on a scent. But they found nothing—no drugs, no weapons, no body. Not yet. “You're clear,” they finally said. Ethan offered a cold smile and drove on. 8:32 p.m. The truck rolled into Nogales. Gustavo had been waiting—impatient, twitchy, chain-smoking with his boot pressed against the bumper of his car. When the vehicle stopped, he tossed his cigarette and approached with an uneven gait, the glint of a blade tucked inside his boot. “You Ethan? Ethan Farrell?” Gustavo asked, glancing at the note scrib
