about him.
Lucinda wanted to know what was bothering him so much. His losses were enormous, she agreed, but he was plummeting into a pit of depression. She considered it for a while as Juan went on talking and decided to speak to Octa about it in the morning. It seemed like Juan needed his help.
She waited till he passed out and covered him up with a dry sheet. As she turned to leave his room, something on the dressing table caught her eye.
She walked toward the table to what appeared to be a shiny photo frame; she reached for it and picked it up to take a closer look.
It was a picture of Juan with an attractive young woman. They were both sitting in a park, and a little boy was playing with a ball in the background. The boy was looking at the camera and smiling brightly.
Lucinda turned the frame over; the backside of the photograph had something written on it that she could not make out in the dim light. She moved next to the window to see more clearly since there was a street light out there. The note said:
“In case you’ve forgotten your loving husband and your beautiful boy, here’s a reminder! Come back soon, mommy! We miss you!” The note was written on the 18th of January, 2000, according to the British postal stamp.
Chapter Four
3:00 AM – Juan sat on the wine-soaked bed taking big gulps of his whiskey. The stench of warm wine filled the room as vapors of alcohol escaped the fabric of the bed sheets. He stared into space thinking about how his plan had completely turned around on him.
His brother, Octa, had given him the cold shoulder, which had turned matters even worse. The theft couldn’t be carried out without assistance and what kind of assistance would you find in a foreign town within seven days? Juan knew the answer, the unreliable kind.
He thought about his son, Aaron, wrapped up in chains, hungry and bleeding in a cold room somewhere and shuddered. I have to save him. . . His mind could no longer withstand the pressure and he broke into tears.
He snorted and shook as tears streamed down his face. The thought of his son being tormented burned a fire within him that he could not control. He wept and wept till he started to get a little numb and slowed down, but couldn’t stop the tears from falling now and then.
Just then there was a soft knock on the door, and it slid open slowly. Lucinda stepped inside and looked at him, alarmed. She came up to him and sat close; her concerned eyes looked innocent and worried.
She started asking questions that Juan could hardly make out, and her innocence had no effect on Juan. He thought about how he was aroused the other day by looking at the attractive woman and how he felt completely repulsed by her at the moment.
The bitch whispers shit into my brother’s ear and he obeys like a fucking dog with his tail between his legs . . . he doesn’t understand, yet .
Juan stared into space as Lucinda kept inquiring about things that seemed like useless bullshit to him at the moment. He said a few things that he couldn’t recall later, something about not being able to sleep; he couldn’t be sure.
All he remembered clearly was feeling disgusted by her, and she was the reason he was unable to save his son from those motherfucking rats that took him. He recalled thinking about the call from his son’s school.
Aaron had been seen crossing the street an hour before he went missing; a van had sped up and abducted him. For days, Juan ran back and forth from the police station to his son’s school, searching every nook and corner of the city for any sign of his missing son. He knew their lives were in danger, but he could have never imagined his son would have to pay for his sins. The boy was only six years old.
Things got worse when Juan received a call from the kidnappers, and they had warned him about the severe consequences he would have to face if he didn’t pay his dues. They had seized Juan’s gambling den a few weeks ago, and Juan had thought the
Lucinda wanted to know what was bothering him so much. His losses were enormous, she agreed, but he was plummeting into a pit of depression. She considered it for a while as Juan went on talking and decided to speak to Octa about it in the morning. It seemed like Juan needed his help.
She waited till he passed out and covered him up with a dry sheet. As she turned to leave his room, something on the dressing table caught her eye.
She walked toward the table to what appeared to be a shiny photo frame; she reached for it and picked it up to take a closer look.
It was a picture of Juan with an attractive young woman. They were both sitting in a park, and a little boy was playing with a ball in the background. The boy was looking at the camera and smiling brightly.
Lucinda turned the frame over; the backside of the photograph had something written on it that she could not make out in the dim light. She moved next to the window to see more clearly since there was a street light out there. The note said:
“In case you’ve forgotten your loving husband and your beautiful boy, here’s a reminder! Come back soon, mommy! We miss you!” The note was written on the 18th of January, 2000, according to the British postal stamp.
Chapter Four
3:00 AM – Juan sat on the wine-soaked bed taking big gulps of his whiskey. The stench of warm wine filled the room as vapors of alcohol escaped the fabric of the bed sheets. He stared into space thinking about how his plan had completely turned around on him.
His brother, Octa, had given him the cold shoulder, which had turned matters even worse. The theft couldn’t be carried out without assistance and what kind of assistance would you find in a foreign town within seven days? Juan knew the answer, the unreliable kind.
He thought about his son, Aaron, wrapped up in chains, hungry and bleeding in a cold room somewhere and shuddered. I have to save him. . . His mind could no longer withstand the pressure and he broke into tears.
He snorted and shook as tears streamed down his face. The thought of his son being tormented burned a fire within him that he could not control. He wept and wept till he started to get a little numb and slowed down, but couldn’t stop the tears from falling now and then.
Just then there was a soft knock on the door, and it slid open slowly. Lucinda stepped inside and looked at him, alarmed. She came up to him and sat close; her concerned eyes looked innocent and worried.
She started asking questions that Juan could hardly make out, and her innocence had no effect on Juan. He thought about how he was aroused the other day by looking at the attractive woman and how he felt completely repulsed by her at the moment.
The bitch whispers shit into my brother’s ear and he obeys like a fucking dog with his tail between his legs . . . he doesn’t understand, yet .
Juan stared into space as Lucinda kept inquiring about things that seemed like useless bullshit to him at the moment. He said a few things that he couldn’t recall later, something about not being able to sleep; he couldn’t be sure.
All he remembered clearly was feeling disgusted by her, and she was the reason he was unable to save his son from those motherfucking rats that took him. He recalled thinking about the call from his son’s school.
Aaron had been seen crossing the street an hour before he went missing; a van had sped up and abducted him. For days, Juan ran back and forth from the police station to his son’s school, searching every nook and corner of the city for any sign of his missing son. He knew their lives were in danger, but he could have never imagined his son would have to pay for his sins. The boy was only six years old.
Things got worse when Juan received a call from the kidnappers, and they had warned him about the severe consequences he would have to face if he didn’t pay his dues. They had seized Juan’s gambling den a few weeks ago, and Juan had thought the
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