Page 78 of Embriagado

“You’re a fucking monster.”

That’s what happens when you do give up everything.

“A little advice: when you’re bargaining for your life, better know what you’re offering, or else it’s not very persuasive. Even more so, don’t call the person holding the gun a monster. It’s rather offensive.”

“Offensive?” he gasped. “How about holding a gun to my head for offensive, asshole?”

He let out another one of those pathetic whines, although I understood his desire to live. As pathetic as his life was—and it was, there was no question about that—it was still worth living.

“Get on your knees.”

His breath caught, and he held still for a moment before slowly getting down.

“See? You’re such a good boy when you put your mind to it.”

“You son of a bitch.”

“Seriously?” I clicked my tongue. “I just praised you, and there you had to ruin it.”

“Oh, excuse me for swearing at the psycho who’s about to shoot me.”

“Wouldn’t you rather die with some dignity?”

“Dignity?” He huffed. “In seconds, you’ll blow my brains out, so who gives a shit about that? Just fucking do it so I don’t have to hear you anymore.”

“And what about your brother?” I asked, watching his broad shoulders moving with the slightest turmoil.

Just like a fighter getting to see the last ray of sun before dying, he’d accepted his fate.

Good.

SANTIAGO

“And what about your brother?” that devil asked.

Knowing I’d disappointed the one person I’d sworn to protect, I closed my eyes and prayed to God to keep him safe. Other than that, nothing else went through my head. There wasn’t a single thing I’d done right in my life, nothing worth reflecting over. It was all just one big mistake, and yet I didn’t want to die, especially not like this.

Not by him.

Taking a deep breath, probably my last, I straightened, ready for the shot.

“I said do it⁠—”

A hard strike to the side of my temple cut me off, and what followed was darkness. Pure darkness until a glint of light appeared at the far end of wherever I was, and I ran toward it. Actually, it felt more like floating than running. Was this what dying felt like? Swimming in the abyss? But before I could dive deeper into it, I found myself back in our kitchen, watching Mom and Dad dancing to a song playing on the radio. Nacio was sitting on the counter, clapping his little palms while I was next to him, keeping him safe so he wouldn’t fall. It was then that our parents turned to look at us. Mom picked up Nacio while Dad took me, and we all danced to the music. My heart was full, body warm, and mind at peace. Peace only that younger version of me knew. Peace that would soon be taken away and replaced with anger. Fury that throbbed inside me, calling for blood. For violence. A shout so loud, it was enough to keep me alive⁠—

I blinked my eyes open with a gasp. Only a sharp pain in my head made me close them immediately, and I took a deep breath, trying to stabilize myself.

“Finally awake, I see.”

I turned my head in the direction of the voice, eyes unfocused.

“Sooner than I’d expected, but I assume that boxing made you used to being pounded in the head.”

That’s right, I was hit in the head, but with what?

“Although a gun is not the same as a punch, I’m afraid. Therefore, it’s quite impressive that you’re already up.”

I slowly leaned up on my elbows, hissing at the pain while I did.