Fall by Autumn Archer

3

Even when my boots hit the dirt of my Oasis, it still doesn't snap me out of the new trauma I’ve spawned. Luiz switches off the engine. Sudden deathly silence leads to an ironic thrum of wildlife. The stifling air, tainted with a floral fragrance, froths in my gut.

I actually have feelings for her, and she betrayed me. She spun a web, drew me in, and then tore me apart. And what kills me the most—I wanted to believe this woman was different. Perhaps I hoped she was a unique breed, unlike any other. Within the remoteness of my mind, I manufactured an idea of what she could mean to me. She’s enchanting like an uncommon flower in a ruthless terrain. Salty teardrops drowned her beautiful brown eyes when she stared up at me with defiance and panic. It was a singular fear for her life, not of her underhanded actions. Not for what she chose to do to me.

But that motherfucking kiss. What the hell was I thinking? Her mouth felt like home. The taste of ownership weaved a symphony within my soul, and then I did what I had to do.

I locked down my defenses, retreated behind frustration and barricaded my desires.

What’s done can’t be undone.

She proved herself to be an untrustworthy traitor willing to stab me in the back. Yet, I still lost my head in the cabin when I saw that scumbag mauling my hummingbird––my beautiful liar.

The woman who traded trust for a letter.

I would shoot any fucker dead if they tried to hurt my beija flor.

Hypocritical bastard.

Memories of our last moments play out without warning. Sparkly droplets of regret coated her lashes like priceless jewels. Berry bruised lips glistened with taunting aphrodisia. But it was our unspoken, bittersweet goodbye that stole my breath. Those terrified tears of hers ignited the fuse to my thumping heart. Her hopeful plea doused the sparks with gasoline. And finally, her quivering lip engulfed my heart in flames—all because I didn’t know how to let her go. I couldn’t understand why the decision to do that very deed was ripping me apart organ by organ.

I’m not in love.

I’m simply an unfortunate soul jinxed by an urge and cursed with an obsession. Getting rid of her was the right choice,now that I know she was a stunning distraction waiting to ruin me.

Sweat glides between my shoulder blades. It takes a blurry second to control my breathing in the torrent of heat. I barely inhale and struggle to exhale. Deep in thought, my knuckles crack as I ball my hands. A sickly wave of acid forces me to cough when it pushes up from my gut to my throat. Beneath my tattered composure, the niggle of grief threatens to drive me mad. My conscience is flogged with painful flashes of the past few hours. I’ve no regrets for the man’s life I rightfully terminated. But Iris––that act has me one step closer to neurosis. Glaring into the hostile rainforest, knowing she’ll never be by my side again, makes my blood hiss. Her obvious absence burns with an intensity far more excruciating than the flames that melted my skin.

I’m trapped within memories. Reliving seconds I’d rather erase from my brain. Gabriela’s murder. And now beija flor’s deceit only a few hours ago. The impact of her betrayal knocks me off course and headfirst into a crash of anger. Seething blood chills to subzero on its quest to make me see reason. I dared think a man like me could have purity in his life.

“Where is she?” Sal marches towards me, eyes darting. “What did that guy do to her? Is she okay?”

My insides recoil at the worry he projects. “Luiz,” I bark out, staring through Sal. “Remove the guest from cabin thirteen.” I smooth the cap on top of my head, with no other reason than focusing on something that isn’t pure rage. “Salvador. Organize a team to clean the cabin.”

He frowns. “Sir?”

“What the fuck was she doing in a guest’s cabin during the day?”

Sal flinches, sensing something is terribly wrong. “I gave her the order. The guy wanted morphine. It was a drop off.” He scrubs his jaw. “She was going that way. I thought he’d be out of it from the earlier dose.”

“Didn’t I make myself crystal clear? I told you she wasn’t allowed near any of those fuckers,” I snarl into his face.

I’m losing my shit. Beija flor rolled the dice and lost. She chose her own fate with this unfortunate outcome. Her deception slashed the connection I thought was real.

Night after night, I studied her like a pathetic mortal who reveres a goddess. Desire infiltrated the armor I’d forged from misery. The toxic obsession penetrated my bulletproof shield, worn to block out traitors. And what’s worse, I peeled off my disguise and gave her permission to meet the man I used to be.

Dante Valez resurfaced from the ashes of war-torn grief. Weakness bled into my bones, and Iris became the one true thing that scares me the most––important. The treacherous woman meant something to me. It didn’t matter how hard I fought against it. I wanted more, even if she didn’t realize it.

This is all my fault.

I trapped her.

I fell for her.

I ripped open my privacy.

I banished her to the wild.

The hat on my head feels tighter, making my scalp itch with heat. I refuse to remove it and expose myself. Blowing out a harsh breath, I clench my fist rather than smack Sal in the teeth. “She asked him to send a letter outside of the Oasis.”

Sal sucks in a ragged breath. “What did you do to her?” The heartbeat pounding against my ribcage changes velocity. “Sir.” Sal dares to come closer, vibrating with his own temper. “Where is she?”

“Out there.” The tone of my voice slips to black behind the consequences of betrayal. My blood crystallizes and freezes my veins. A chill rattles my skeleton when I own up to the hard-hearted deed.

He flicks out his wrist to check the time. “The sun will set in a few hours. Let me go to her. I’ll give her a weapon and proper clothes.”

I narrow my eyes at his request, knowing the reason but choosing to ignore my own hateful panic for her safety. “Why?”

He snorts like he’s shocked by my question. “To give her a fighting chance, sir.”

Churning organs revolt in my core, and the thin line taming my disposition snaps. I lash out and grab his throat, noting his Adam’s apple bob. “Really? Do we have a fucking problem here, Salvador?” Anger hurtles through my limbs with a toxic rush of bane.

Brown eyes harden to smoky quartz. “No, sir,” he grits out. “She doesn't deserve to die out there. Not like that. Not alone.”

Fury prickles the vision of his fretful concern. Fisting his shirt, I shove him against the helicopter and reach for my gun that’s wedged beneath my belt. “Perhaps you persuaded her to send a note? Are you conspiring against me too?” My lungs burn. “Were you fucking her?” I jab his cheek with hard steel. A blinding jealousy sabotages rationality. I have no reason to suspect such a crazy claim. My thoughts are tied in knots and pinned to crosses. “Tell me,” I snarl into his face. “Were you fucking her as well?” The pending answer jabs my heart with spears of envy. Such painful splinters that have no right to hurt me like they do.

“No,” he grits out. “It was obvious the woman was utterly fascinated with you.” His head shakes with pity. My pulse trips. A flashback of graceful sweetness, enticing lips, pleading eyes and a gasp of shock wipes my brain from every other thought. “I could tell you bonded with her,” Sal continues. The syllables tremor ever so slightly when he strains his neck beneath my ruthless palm. “I had hoped Iris could dust the ashes off your shoulders and give you something else to live for, other than this place.”

My jaw clenches so tightly I swear my teeth will shatter. “I don’t give a fuck about her. She’s a traitor. A fucking snake. Do you understand? She means nothing to me.” I catch my breath after the growling lie.

“El Fantasma.” Luiz’s voice cuts through the intensity of our standoff. “I’ll take Salvador with me to cabin thirteen. You can let him go now. We have a job to do.”

Clenched fingers release. Staggering back a few necessary steps, I lowered the barrel biting his flesh. A sharp ache burrows into my chest. I clutch the moist material restricting the swell of both lungs. The urge to drown out the echo of her scream ripples in waves. I’m losing my mind under the palm trees. Conflicted and broken. Shaken and consumed with disappointment.

She lied to me.

A downpour of goosebumps rain from my nape down the curve of my spine. My heart stops hammering with a thirst for blood and thrums with loss.

I’m grieving for her. For what we shared.

The soles of my boots batter the walkways until I reach her vacant cabin. Spasms of doubt spread to my covered eyes, blinding me with cruel visions. I kissed her goodbye, then pushed her out of a helicopter. I watched her mouth gape when she yelled as she fell out of my reach. The flavor of eternity and false promises still tingles my taste buds. But that’s something neither of us will ever know again. It’s punishment for us both.

With my teeth gnashed together, I let myself inside. It’s either desperation or idiocy that wishes I’ll discover her safe in the lavish cage. The witless laugh that escapes me shatters the serene facade of an oasis. A cruel silence follows my outburst. She was never safe. Far from it.

This suite wasn’t a refuge. It was a glass box where I covertly observed her every move. From strolling around the suite without clothes, wrapping her lips around a straw to sip the drinks I’d left her, to foaming up her milky skin in the shower. Every step she made played out before me, burning boundaries and teasing my self-discipline. Fascination snowballed into an obsession.

And now she’s gone too.

Just like Gabriela.

After they killed my sister, I easily accepted the alternative version I’d created of myself. The merciless el Fantasma who built a hidden world where identities no longer mattered. I became a ghost who haunted demons and sacrificed my soul.

My callous actions toward my enemies were a means to an end. I clearly understood the driving force behind my alter ego. I justified savage deeds behind the mask of a devoted brother. A man lost in revenge without sight of what a peaceful future would look like, or if it even existed. Now the mask is no longer—I’ve evolved into a heartless man who’s crippled with bloodthirsty urges and incapable of closeness.

Over the years, I’ve sought little pleasure in the billions of dollars stacked up from my endeavors. I’m numbed to the satisfaction of revenge because Gabriela is still missing from my life. I became mentally untouchable and wealthier than I ever dreamed possible. I weathered the storm of heartbreak in my own goddamn secluded part of the universe where I make all the rules.

An unfair past gave me the justification to delete and alter lives. That was then, before a red-headed siren appeared out of nowhere and gave me a glimpse of a new future. Now, my conscience is muddy and stressed. I’m paralyzed by emotions I hoped to never endure again.

How do I survive the ghost of Iris Kitson?

My stomach lurches in the wake of dubiety. I punch the wall with an earth-shattering explosion, snarling out my dissatisfaction. All four knuckles take the force and ache with satisfying discipline. The lesson shudders through me with remembrance. Everyone I’ve ever loved has expired throughout time. I’m the violence that causes death. I’m the reason Gabriela's soul glitters in the night sky, a million light years away. Realistically, Iris never stood a chance in my Oasis. We were destined to destroy each other eventually.

El Fantasma got there first.

It has to be this way.

I hurry to strip down, removing every trace of my disguise because right now I am Dante Valez. The wretched man in mourning and the very man who refused to listen. I dive into the pool, breaking through the aqua blue surface. Tepid water encases my stiff form, offering a brief sense of quietude.

I’ve let Iris consume me for too long.

It’s over now.

But as I sink to the bottom, shackled with an almighty weight of regret, I realize it’s far from over.

Pushing up to the break of water, I kick my legs to stay afloat and submerge my tense shoulders. This time the buoyancy doesn't work like it usually does. Piercing cramps needle my heart like unruly swords on the attack. The muscles around my ribs constrict painfully as thoughts of Iris deny me peace of mind.

When I squeeze my eyelids shut, she surrounds me. Haunting me. Begging me. Lost in a world where she doesn’t belong.

She double-crossed me.

I fill my lungs with air and sink deeper, but the anguish won’t dissolve. The once pleasant hush becomes deafening instead of relaxing. My arms thrash and manic feet kick with frustration. An expulsion of forced air is trapped in crystal clear water. Instead of a savage roar, billions of bubbles speed away from the violent eruption. Resurfacing, I drag my disfigured hands through my hair and heave myself to sitting at the edge of the pool.

The patio style day bed where she had laid waiting, drugged on my truth serum, mocks my anxiety with its leisurely position. Padding indoors, an air-conditioned climate reminds me of skin whiter than snow, made for harsher weather than sunshine. Clean garments, folded on the freshly made bed, agitate my gnarly mood even more. Any trace of a lingering scent has been replaced with pressed sheets, and her used nightdress has been removed. I storm into the bathroom. My tortured palms immediately smack the countertop when I find it void of personal possessions. She didn’t come here with trinkets or jewelry, just a paltry notebook. It’s like she was never here.

But she was.

The tart sting of bitterness teaches me a valuable lesson. Regardless of the attraction, she was still capable of betrayal. Her beauty was a shroud. A papery layer of deception.

It’s irrelevant how I looked forward to spying on her from afar. That each new day welcomed a spark, a thrill of knowing she was here. My thawing barricade lowered enough to let her slip in unannounced.

And then she proved to me that humans are inherent liars.

“Sir.” The radio crackles from the doorway where my shorts are strewn. “Sir. I need to speak with you urgently.” Sal knows better than to show insolence. After our encounter earlier, he’s lucky I didn’t punish him for showing the guts to confront me. “Please. I found her note. It fell out of the guest’s pocket when they moved him.”

My knees lock. The throbbing behind my ribcage threatens a black out. I scrub my eyes and hesitate. Scraping for a level of decorum, I sniff in a long-controlled breath. Uncertain if I want to hear the words, slowly reaching for the puddled shorts.

“Sir?”

I snatch the walkie-talkie. “I’m here.”

“Where are you?”

“Her cabin.”

“I’ll be right there. You should see this for yourself.”

“No.” I prop myself up against the door jamb. “Read it to me now.”

There’s a beat of silence, and then he begins. “I survived the storm. I’m safe. I promise I’ll come home eventually, but I’ve found something special in the jungle. Something I need to figure out. An adventure of a lifetime. Don’t mourn for me. I love you all so much. I. K.” Whatever he says next muffles under a thunderous heartbeat amplified in my skull. Curled fingers shake with fraying self-control. “Sir…”

In a blind temper, the radio arcs through the air and wallops the opposite wall.

Something special.

Weaving to the outside deck, I cover the full length of the pool edge and reach the immeasurable sprawl of vegetation and infinite evergreens that prevent me from catching sight of my ostracized hummingbird. She’s out there, terrified and alone. I’m in here, love struck and drowning in remorse. We’re miles apart. Separated by a grave error and the shocking truth.

Beija flor isn’t the traitor I suspected her to be.

I slam into the hip height glass screen and grip it with a fierce squeeze. Before I can reign in my wrath, I yell out her name. It spits past my lips and carries into the myriad of trees.

“IRIS!”

I’m the master at safeguarding my identity and unearthing traitors. It’s a skill set I’ve developed with expert finesse. Thanks to Miguel and Maria, I’ve holed myself away for the past few years to accumulate billions. To reap justice when they least expect it. The long game. Making them wait on borrowed time.

Yet, never did I expect that path to fork. For my talent to be tested, and for it to fail.

Beij flor didn’t lie to me.

And if anyone deserves punishment, it’s me.

The beast forged in flames.

The fool who gave in to his temper.

The savage soul I can no longer control.

El Fantasma.

* * *

“Maria, put the gun away. Let’s talk about this.” I step into her.

Hard steel pokes under my ribs. “He’ll be here any minute.”

“That doesn’t matter. We have time to figure something out.”

“You don’t get it, Dante.” Maria laughs coldly. “I’m not a pitiful little creature who’ll believe your lies now. I asked you a second ago if you wanted to pick me. You made your feelings perfectly clear.” Her pupils eclipse blazing copper. “Well, guess what… I was gathering information on you and your lucrative business. There was a point when I thought we had something special. That we might’ve broken out on our own and rivalled the Columbian cartel.”

“Maria?” Miguel’s voice booms from behind me.

I spin around to face the bastard who got my sister pregnant. Two goons flank him on either side. “What’s going on?” The fucker actually sounds confused.

“Your pretty little girlfriend heard your conversation earlier and ran home to her big brother. If it wasn’t for me, they’d be long gone by now,” Maria explains.

Gabriela whimpers. I inch back, reaching for her hand. “I’ve no idea what the fuck is going on here, but leave my little sister out of it. Take what you want and let her go.”

Miguel saunters further into my home with a smug look on his face. “Oh, I took what I wanted, alright.” When he reaches her side, he leans in and sniffs her hair, then places a chaste kiss on her cheek.

Unbridled rage fizzles through my arteries. I lurch forward and throw a fist at his chin. He stumbles. Instantly, powerful hands snare my biceps from behind. A low kick to the back of my knees shunts me to the floor. My knees scream, smacking the hard tiles.

“You’ll pay for that,” Miguel hisses, stretching out his jaw. With my elbows secured behind my back, Miguel spits a gob of blood and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “I need your list, Dante.”

“Let her go, and I’ll give it to you,” I challenge. With the odds stacked against us, bartering with my client list is the only way to get Gabriela to safety.

“I don't think you understand. I’m not asking for it. I’m telling you to hand it over.” He covers the floor with three confident strides and returns the punch I dished out first. Splintering pain rockets through my skull.

“Please, Miguel.” Gabriela frets, trying to reason with the demented father of her unborn child. “Don’t hurt him. If you feel anything for me at all, let him go, and we’ll give you the list.” Miguel’s hurtful laughter lights me up in flames. He never cared for her. “Miguel… I’m,” she begins.

“Gabriela! No,” I snap.

She doesn’t listen. Whether it’s a last attempt to figure out if he cherishes her or if it's a tactic for our release, nonetheless, she tells him. “I’m pregnant. We’re having a baby together.”

An earthquake of fury shudders through me when Maria appears to Miguel’s right. “I’m done here. This is your mess to clear up now.” My eyes burn into the back of her skull when the bitch whispers into his ear, grabs her purse and leaves.

Miguel shakes his head and rubs his temple. His eyes narrow on the trembling hands covering my sister's belly. They don’t settle on her stomach with kindness; they’re chaotic and sharp. He pulls out a gun and signals to the men behind us. When I wrestle, a jab collides with my skull. Gabriela screams. My blood boils to scorching. A daze of semi-unconsciousness slows time.

He snares a wad of hair at the crown of her head. “We used condoms, dammit,” he snarls.

“Please... Miguel… Don’t hurt us,” she pleads. “You don’t need to do this.”

His fingers unravel from her sun kissed locks. The same hand drags over his clean-shaven face. “This is a big fucking inconvenience, Gaby.” His face angles with teeth bared, and our hateful gazes clash. “Hand over the list, Dante.”

The buzz in my head intensifies. I nod once. “Let her leave, Miguel,” I hiss when my captor jostles me to my feet. “She’s pregnant. Do what you want to me, but get her the fuck out of here.”

“This won’t end well for any of us. I’ll let her go when you get me the fucking list.”

The twitchy finger on his handgun screams to my instincts. There’s no way he’ll let us go that easily. And if he does, every asshole on my client list will come after me. And Gabriela will mother this motherfucker's child.

“It seems to me like you need those names more than you need my sister. So let her walk out of here, and I’ll hand it over without a fight.”

That suggestion meets a dark chuckle. My jaw blazes when his knuckles crack into the bone. I hear her screams as his men prevent my retaliation. Punches strike. Blood spatters. My stomach cramps from the hard blows.

“I don’t need you, Dante. Not when Gaby knows where you stash all your shit. That’s the benefit of fucking your sister. She trusted me.”

“I never told him about your business, Dante!” Her voice breaks as she sobs. “I didn’t tell him anything. I promise.”

Miguel pivots into her. “You told me enough to know there’s information available to you.” He wipes a teardrop from her cheek.

“Get away from her!” I roar like a lion, struggling in vain to reach her.

His arm lifts, and he aims his Glock right at me. As quick as it targets my chest, my brave sister bolts in my direction.

“No, Miguel.” Her voice vanishes behind the snap of a bullet.

Gabriela’s shoulder slams into my chest the moment the cap hits. Time ceases to tick. The planet screeches to a halt. My heart explodes into a trillion spiky fragments. Watery eyes find mine. Her knees weaken, and her legs crumple. My sister's precious soul escapes her wounded body, and she slides down my chest after the impact.

It takes a split second for reality to kick in. For the nightmare to unravel. A shattered heartbeat hammers until all the serrated pieces lose control. I sink down beside her and cover the bullet hole with my hands. It continues to ooze a crimson tide of life, while her lashes no longer flutter and her lungs remain still. A barbaric yell rasps from my throat. “You fucking bastard.”

Whatever wrath I’d contained up to that point surfaces in a frenzy of brutality. I lunge at the fucker who shot my baby sister and wrap his neck in the crook of my arm. Boots wallop into my liver from behind when his goons step in to help. In the ongoing battle, the table of candles flips on its side. Flames engulf the floral drapes my sister hand-stitched when we first moved in. Fire spreads as rapidly as my fury.

He empties the gun of bullets and shoves it in my hand, forcing my fingers to automatically wrap around the handle. “Your fingerprints are all over the murder weapon, Valez. You’ll go to prison for killing Gaby.” Miguel's voice hitches to insane. “And don’t think we can’t get to you on the inside. We’ll get that fucking list one way or another.”

Ferocious flames crackle and spit. Before the trio of murdering bastards makes for the exit, Miguel pulls out his phone. “I need help. It’s my girlfriend,” he says with a false tremor. “I think she's dead.” He turns away. “It was her brother, Dante Valez. He flipped out because I got her pregnant. Hurry. Please.” Miguel ends the call and hurriedly returns the phone to his pocket, then storms out through the front door.

I hunker down at her expressionless pretty face and press two fingers to her throat. Even in death, my little sister is graceful.

Fire seethes and licks. Fury burns deeper than the molten heat blazing over my hands, deleting my fingerprints and my existence. The pain doesn’t compare to the destruction of grief. Or the hissing need for revenge.

In the furnace of affliction, ghosts are born.

My sister will dance with the stars and rest in the heavens.

I will walk the wretched earth with evil and kill every last one of them.