The Untouchables

1. Revenge

"Step on it, puta," I tell myself.

The truck gets in my way at the perfect time and I crash into it at 70 km/h.

I squeeze my eyes and probably scream, but the ringing in my ears covers every other sound. It takes a few seconds before I manage to move and see the damage I've made.

The truck has been pushed down on a side and it already caught fire. Hell yeah!

Sirens in the distance are the first sound I hear again, followed by gunshots.

I kick the car door open and sneak out, crouching behind it. As I peek through the broken window, I find the barrel of a rifle between my eyes. Before I can even realize it, my hands are over it. I push the gun back, breaking the dealer's nose.

"Ya está muerta!" The man yells.

I run as fast as I can. I can run until my lungs will burn, but I can't run faster than a bullet.

What was plan B? Making a plan A.

I have no control over time, or the guns behind me. I don't want it. What's life without dangers? Nothing fun for sure.

So I keep running, laughing at the faces of my enemies.

Luck rewards my brave ass, as always.

The truck explodes. I jump forward, hands on my head. The cops with their sirens drive past me. The dealers are fucked. We won.

༻✧༺

David opens the door. "Is dinner ready?"

I take the ice off my knee to stand up and serve a pescado frito on the table. "I have a surprise."

"And I have the best girlfriend in the world." He starts devouring his meal. I'll ask for my well-deserved kiss later.

"How was your day?" I ask.

"Mmh! You won't believe it." A spark in his eyes tells me everything as he tries to talk with his mouth full. "Carl's truck crashed! He's in big fucking trouble now."

"That's what he gets for not paying your merch in time. He should've respected the accord."

"Yeah. I guess karma hit again!"

We laugh together as we haven't in a while. I'm going to explode if I don't tell him everything now. It's time to laugh harder!

"I did it," I say.

"What?"

"I crashed into the truck. Surprise!" I yell, arms open.

But David isn't even smiling anymore. Every trace of joy fades away from us.

"What's wrong?" I ask. "They paid."

"No. You will pay because of your stupid revenge." He laughs, but this time there's no happiness in the sound of it. "How many times have I told you not to get in my way, especially when it comes to business?"

"He stole your merch. He didn't pay for months. Remember how you came to me complaining, and I had to fuck the depression out of you? I did what I had to do to help my desperate, miserable boyfriend."

Our argument doesn't go as I expect. David doesn't yell at me or punch me as usual; he just massages his temples, sighing and squeezing his eyes.

"We're fucked. No, wait... You are fucked," he says, shaking his finger in front of my face.

He stopped eating. Whatever I did, it must be really bad. But I don't care.

"Whatever I did, we can fix that," I say.

"No. It can't be fixed, and I won't help you to survive them. When they come searching for you, you won't be here." He grabs my arm, dragging me to the door.

"Are you kicking me out? The apartment is mine!"

"Don't you get it? Nothing matters anymore! You're a walking dead, Gabriela." He throws me out of my apartment, pushing the door against my back.

I plant my feet on the ground and keep the door open, pushing it back against him as hard as I can. "What the hell are you talking about?!"

"I'm talking about the untouchables! Every year they exchange the only copies of the receipts of their financial records to make sure they all paid each other what they had to. It's their way to live in peace."

"Are you talking about Rafael Navarro?"

"And Carlos Quintero, and Diego Hernandez! All of the documents of the drug lords were in the truck that you crashed into. A war has started, but they will get along for a while still, at least until they find you and kill you. They're coming for you, Gabi!"

Word after word, I get weaker. There's nothing else to say. I give up and let the door push me back on the ground. David even locks it, like I'm a danger myself to his life. Sadly, he may be right.

"¡Ella vive en este piso!" Someone yells from another corridor.

I stare at the empty corner on the side where the voice came from as the steps of a small crowd get closer.

Then I sprint to the elevator.