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SPELLBOUND
By WolfMoon1013
The pressure of her hand on my shoulder did nothing to calm my nerves. A cold, uneasy feeling crept into my stomach, grabbing hold and squeezing as tight as a vice. The sensation wasn’t unfamiliar to me. My gut instincts had allowed me to get to where I was now, to move up the ranks than any other female in the precinct. A year undercover had me in the midst of the leaders of the newest cartel that had managed to creep their way into Los Angeles. Not only that, but my new bosses had put me up in an office, given me “clients”, and, best of all, they gave me her as an assistant.
Elena Vasquez. At five foot seven inches, long black hair, luscious lips, hazel eyes, an hourglass figure, and the epitome of perfection, Elena was as intoxicating as peyote smoke. I couldn’t count how many nights I’d spent lying beside that pretty face of hers, wondering how a girl like her had managed to fall for someone like me. Another squeeze on my shoulder brought me out of my musings. Sighing, my gaze met those extraordinary hazel eyes.
“Emilio is here, mi amour,” Elena purred into my ear, voice as smooth as silk, and a small shiver ran through me.
I smiled. “Good. Send him in. Alone.”
A Cheshire grin formed on those tempting lips. “As you wish.”
The clicking of stiletto heels followed Elena’s answer and I turned back to face the view of the lighted city. Arms crossed behind my back, I shifted my shoulder, the weight of the 9 mm Beretta that rested soundly in its shoulder holster reminding me of the work that had to be done. Voices approached quickly, one laden with a thick Spanish accent that seemed to fall in sync with Elena’s clicking heels. Maybe it was wrong of me to feel such a sense of accomplishment with this job – no, assignment – but I did.
I was the only female in charge of a large territory, nevermind the fact that I was a lesbian as well. My reputation had spread among the lower ‘employees’, earning me the respect and fear that was needed to deal with them. As the office door closed, I turned to face the pudgy, greasy gray-haired man. Emilio Chakris. He was a short man, standing at five foot five and allowing me a good five inches to tower over him. Key for the intimidation factor.
“So this is where the infamous Villalobos makes all the magic happen, huh?” Emilio said, moving to sit down in my chair at my desk.
“It’s called furniture, Emilio. Please resist any urge to urinate on it,” I quipped, tone cold.
A sigh escaped him. “Why am I here?”
Brows knitted, my hands diving into the pockets of my slacks. “You mean you don’t know?”
“If I did, would I have asked?” Emilio watched me as I moved to the front of my desk and my brown eyes watched him just as closely. His eye began to twitch, impatience playing through. “Well?”
“Do you believe that this ‘company’ is only as strong as its weakest link, Emilio?” He shifted in the seat, an indication that he was uneasy.
His attempt to hide so, failed. “I suppose so. Why?”
Chuckling, I moved over to the liquor cabinet and pulled out a glass. “Do you want anything to drink?”
“No, I’m fine.” Emilio cleared his throat. “What’s going on?”
“I’ve been informed that I’ve been ordered to thin out the ranks.” In one swift move my fingers curled around the ice pick and lifted it, ready to launch the blade at him. “You’re one of the weakest links.”
“Oh really…” He looked to me, right side of his lips quirked upwards and I tensed as he stood. “Officer?”
Wha..? I faltered, heart stopping and eyes going wide. Then it happened, a blinding, searing pain going through my shoulder blade, causing the ice pick to fall from my hand. The floor came rushing towards me, the echo of the gunshot beginning to register in my mind, the world returning to its normal pace. Emilio wasn’t the shooter, his men hadn’t come barging in – yet, anyway – which only left one person in the room. No… “Elena.”
“I am sorry, Kristine, but we both knew that this wasn’t going to work out. Besides…” I felt myself being turned onto my back by her foot. “Jail isn’t my kind of social scene.”
“So it was all a lie,” I said, eyes watching her, pain and anger burning through me.
“Awe, don’t worry, lover. It was fun while it lasted and I’ll never forget you.” Her hand reached down into my holster, the weight being taken away. Wounded and unarmed. Wonderful. “You won’t be needing this anymore.”
“I will be getting that back,” I said, watching her.
“Sure you will.” Kneeling down, her breath feathered my lips. “You know what they say, ‘Hell hath no fury…’,” she whispered then pressed her lips to mine, teeth biting my bottom lip and drawing blood.
“Fuck you!” I said, pulling back from her.
She chuckled. “Now, is that anything to say to the woman you love?” the mocking tone caused my blood to boil and her stiletto heel dove down into the bullet wound. I didn’t scream, knowing that it’d only make that look in her eyes grow. I simply ground my teeth and took it.
“Go to hell,” I ground out.
“Take your time with her, Emilio.” She removed her heel. “Ciao.”
With that, she left.
The wound in my shoulder was bad and I was sure I had a pint or more of blood on my shirt. Exhaustion was starting to creep in as well. Keep going, keep fighting, I told myself. Walking over to my desk drawer, I opened it and thanked all that was holy that Elena hadn’t taken my spare gun. Everything was second nature now, load the clip, check the chamber, and let the adrenaline fuel me. I knew where Elena was headed, the harbor. Despite my distaste for boats, I was willing to put that aside in order to catch her. Dodging bullets, running over dead bodies was a day in the park now and before I knew it, my gun was aimed at the back of my former lover.
“Elena!” I called. “Drop your weapon and to your knees!”
She stopped, visibly tensing but the gun stayed in her hand. “What are you going to do, Kris? Shoot me?” she called to me.
“Don’t make me repeat myself, Elena!” I said, grip tightening on the Walther PPK as she turned to face me and took a few steps forward, eyes meeting mine.
“You won’t shoot the woman you love. You’re not as bad ass as you think yourself to be.”
Gaze hardened. “Drop it, Elena. I will kill you if you leave me no other choice.”
She raised her gun to be level with my heart. “You’re struggling right now to even hold your gun, Kris. You’ve lost too much blood.”
“Put your gun down right now and maybe I can cut you a deal with the D.A. Get you into protective custody.” The click of the safety being turned off on her gun made my decision that much harder. Funny, you’d think it would’ve been easier. “Don’t do it, Elena.”
“If it makes you feel better, I meant what I told you.” Her finger moved, but she wasn’t as quick as I was, having learned to aim and flip off the safety in one swift move. I pulled the trigger and watched as that lovely body of hers fell onto the pier, blood dripping down the side of her face from the hole in her forehead.
It seemed to take eternity to walk over to her body and take my gun back from her. When the sound of the police helicopter and sirens came closer, I’d slumped down next to Elena’s body, watching her lifeless hazel eyes.
“Le adoro, Elena,” I mumbled to her then squinted in the direction of the headlights. Instead of being rewarded, I lost my badge. When love betrays you and what you stand for gets taken away, what is there to do? For me the answer was easy: Start over.