Facing the Kings

Montez

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***

   "Martinez, I have told you, I wasn't there! If I was, I would have done something." Angel defends his pathetic self. I scrutinize his sincere face, he makes it that much harder for me.

   "Like what. Jumped in front of the bullet. Saved his life. You promised me. You promised you wouldn't let anything happen to Leon. You lied to me and my family." I fling my fists at his face. In a single motion he spins me and yanks my back to his chest.

   "Calm down." He uses that menacing voice I hear him use with his loonies. It doesn't inflict fear in me like how he wishes it to, I don't tremble or quake at his tone.

   Instead, I struggle even more, "I hate you. It's your fault. Leon died because of you and the Kings. Fuck off, Montez." I don't mean what I'm saying, I could never actually loathe the man before me. Even with his flaws, Angel did try to be there for not just Leon, but the entire Martinez clan. Yet that doesn't diminish the rage I feel.

   His hold tightens and my breath is constricted, "Martinez, relax."

   "No." I gasp, "Let go."

   I seize this wondrous opportunity to throw my head back forcibly and a sweet crack echos. He drops me and I stand behind Leons grave.

   "Damn it, Martinez." He pinches his bleeding nose.

   "I hate you." I rub my fingers together, trying to suppress my anger.

   "So I hear." Angel cleans the blood on the sleeve of his button down shirt.

   I acknowledge the disturbing smell in the air, "Why the hell do you drown yourself in perfume?"

   "It's not perfume, it's cologne. Desire is the best."

   I sneeze, "It's revolting."

   He shrugs, "Maybe to you, but it makes the girls crazy."

   "I'm pretty sure that's the drugs, not your scent." I wisely say.

   "Martinez." He warns.

   I've crossed the boundaries, saying things I know aren't true, "The only girls you get are the ones you date rape, asshole."

   When emotional and blood thirsty, rude things pop into your mind that you can't help but voice. I'm being reckless because I'm hurt.

   Angel stomps to me, boots squashing the poor twigs, "For your information, my female partners have been more than willing."

   "That's the dope talking." I retort.

   "You're mad, I get it, but don't stand there and accuse me of shit I don't do."

   My lips quiver, "My brother is dead. He's not coming home. I blame you."

   "Clearly. Remember, while you lost a brother, I lost a friend. You're not the only person grieving his death. So go ahead. Yell at me, hit me, tell me you hate me." He spreads his arms wide.

   "Now I get permission?" I ask cautiously.

   He stares fixedly into my eyes, "I'd rather you let me have it than allow it to be bottled inside you. Go for it."

   I feel oddly uncomfortable. I liked it better when I screamed at him of my own free will. He offered to have me go buck wild but I don't want to. Having Angel ask for my insults wouldn't be the same. He was meant to always have Leon's back, but when Leon really had to rely on Angel, he wasn't there. On top of that, someone has to pay for the hole in my heart.