Shattered Loyalties

1: Passing Time

"Let's go!" He shouted and pumped his fist in the air after toppling out of his Maserati. A string of his father's Spanish curses left his mouth. He grabbed a beer from the closest table and started to sip on it as two girls approached him. He liked the attention—of the girls—especially after his win.

"Vargas," the other scoffed and threw his helmet on the ground. A string of unhappy, Russian curses left the man's mouth as he shoved everyone away. You could say...he was a sour loser.

"Aye man, sin resentimientos, (no hard feelings)," he said in Spanish. "You win some. You lose some...it's just too good to be true that I'm winning them all. You see. I have the girls. You—don't. I've won the money—you've lost yours. And I'll go home and tell stories of this race—you'll tell them for different reasons, si?"

Alejandro didn't really care for his opponent's feelings. He only cared for the two girls dragging him to the nearest bathroom. He was already unbuttoning his shirt for easy access. They giggled as he kissed one against the wall.

"You know," said the Russian. He slammed young Alejandro against the wall and shoved a gun to his temple. "You win some, you lose some. But—you've lost the greatest, for Isabella is gone, isn't she?" Asked the Russian. Alejandro shoved the Russian to the wall. He wasn't scared to be held at gunpoint, for his anger overpowered any weapon or man behind the weapon.

"You better watch what you say, cabron, or I won't hesitate to put you six feet under."

...

"We've got him. On my count." He holds up his fingers and counts down from three. Guns are drawn. Masks cover faces. "Everyone on the ground! Don't move! Hands up!" The five men bombard the apartment. There's no movement, for there's no one in the room.

"No one here, sir," says one. The one in charge takes off his mask and slams it on the ground.

"It's the fifth house today," he mumbles. He yanks his phone from his pocket. "She's not dead. I won't believe she's dead."

"It's been thirteen years."

"Thirteen years means nothing until I see a body. No body, no death."

...

Thirteen years ago

She sits on the couch with Rafael. He leans into his chest. He's occupied on his phone. He's barely paid attention to her all day. "Baby," she groans. She can hear her children playing upstairs.

"Hmm," is all he says. He still doesn't give her his full attention. 

"Hey Dad," Antonio says. He comes in the room with his friend. "Can Carlo and I go out?"

"Yep. Take your gun," is all he says. Carlo chuckles and shoves Antonio.

"Fuck off," he says to his younger brother.

"Language, son," says their mother. He groans and ignores her.

"Hey, don't ignore me, Antonio," she tries. "Rafael? Are you not going to do anything?"

"He's fine," Rafael says. He's barely ignoring her as well.

"I'll see you later, Pops," Antonio says. Carlo goes over to kiss his mother's cheek.

"Daddy!" Little Isabella comes running into the room with tears. Immediately, he moves from the couch and scoops her up in his arms. When she lays her head on his shoulder, she begins to sob. She wraps her little arms around his neck as he holds her in his warm embrace.

"What's wrong, mi vida?"

"Ally hit me," she cried. He suppresses a sigh.

"Go get him, will you?" He asks his wife. She doesn't move from the couch.

"You've been ignoring me all day, baby. Did I do something?"

"Not right now."

"What do you mean not right now?" She stands up and touches the back of Isabella. Isabella hides in her father's embrace. He holds her close and gently pats her back.

"I said not right now, Amaila."

"If not now, then when?"

"How long have you been cheating on me?" She looks at him in shock.

"Unbelievable. You'd really accuse me of that?"

"I have proof. No let me say Antonio has proof. My twelve-year-old son saw you screwing someone that wasn't me. What's that about?"

"He's making it up," she scoffs.

"I don't think so."

"Rafael!" And Isabella starts crying again. He starts to carry her upstairs.

"I'm going to put Bella to bed," he says. "I want your bags packed by the time I come back downstairs."

...

Three gunshots echoed through the halls of the Vargas mansion. Rafael is the first one up. He grabs his gun and rushes to his daughter's room. She's not in her room. "Fuck," he mumbles under his breath.

He creeps downstairs. All he can hear are the cries of a little girl. "Isabella!" Rafael cries out.

"Dad, what's going on?!" Javier rushes down the stairs. There's still sleep in the young boy's eyes.

Rafael turns on the lights. "Diego," he mumbles. He immediately rushes to his son's side. His son is unresponsive. Two of the three bullets have hit his chest.

"Dad! What's happened?" Antonio asks. He rushes through the front door. "Diego!" He screams.

"Grab the first aid kit. Carlo, call an ambulance."

"Where's Bella?" He asks.

"Call a fucking ambulance!"

That night, he lost a lot. He lost his wife. He lost his daughter. That night he almost lost his son and that night, Rafael Vargas realized that he lost himself.

So did all the Vargas boys, I surmise. They lost their spark because a beautiful family was broken apart because of a love affair.

-Everest-