For real.
With full bellies and crumbs down our shirts, we get into the truck and Nacho drives us back toward the ranch while I return to the murder chat.
Anders:Erik found out I gave you the whereabouts of everyone on your list, and he’s about to blow a vein.
Jesus Christ. I can’t wait to get home tonight because I dosolove it when Erik is disappointed with me. Also, Erik and Anders are related, so it’s…complicated.
Me:He doesn’t get it, does he?
Anders:None of ’em get it.
Me:They’ll never understand the exquisite pleasure of that first plunge of the knife.
Anders:Ugh, so true.
Me:That squishy sound when a bullet passes through flesh? I could write symphonies.
Anders:For me, it’s all about the screaming. That whole “silent kill” kick Javier had us on was torture.
Hopper:I guess, for me, it’s the spiritual aspect.
I snicker, and Nacho looks over at me. “Your serial killers cracking you up again?”
“You know it. Like, everyone loves me for who I am, mostly, but there’s just something about people who get it.”
“I hear you. I’m glad you ended up with us though. Doing bad-guy shit for good.”
“Yeah, me too. I’d definitely be in jail by now.”
“Or still in the life,” Nacho says, then goes quiet. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to go dark there.”
I shrug. “It’s okay.”
And it is mostly okay. Erik and his buddy Charlie rescued me from a child sex trafficking ring, which was objectively awful. But,fuck. I’m here, aren’t I? Working with my best friend, going to therapy, and working on a kill list of all the men who ever owned me or rented me for the night.
It's called balance. Look it up.
Anyway, Nacho shouldn’t feel bad for bringing up my past. He still looks a little guilty, though, so I try to set his mind at ease.
“Look, I probably wasn’t going to be in the life for much longer because, at some point, I was going to start killing those motherfuckers. I fucking hated that last guy with a passion. I don’t know if I would’ve lost it on him or the next one, but it was going to happen.”
Nacho’s jaw tightens, and I wonder if I maybe failed at the wholesetting his mind at easething.
Thankfully, his expression morphs into something softer. “Ant, buddy, I’m glad Charlie and Erik found you when they did.”
“Me too. And not just because they saved me from certain jail time. Javier would’ve never found me if I hadn’t started building a life here.”
I was eleven years old when I was sold by my father’s father to a local gang, who then sold me to…well, the worst kind of people on the planet. My grandfather lied and said my mother’s side of the family didn’t want me, and for years, I believed it.
That is until my Uncle Javier showed up a few months ago. Turns out, he’d spent all those years looking for me, chasing down leads, researching human trafficking, putting himself in the worst places imaginable, just for a chance to find me.
He came to investigate when I showed up on the Johnson City newspaper’s website for my part in a community cleanup. Erik and Charlie quickly verified his story, and since then, I’ve been reunited with my mother’s side of the family.
I’ve been shocked at how good things can be. Friends can become family, family can love me, and work can be meaningful and non-exploitive. Who the fuck knew that was even possible?
Clearing my throat, I say, “It’s weird to consider the difference a little over a year makes.”
“Yeah, it is.” Nacho grabs my head and kisses my temple, nearly driving us off the side of the road.
