The Beasts of Juarez by R.B. Schow (story books to read .txt) 📗

She unlocked her lips from his, pulled him down a little further, then whispered into his ear. When she was done, she watched as his eyes began to water, his head nodding almost on its own. As if this response was enough, her mouth widened into a smile that was far different from any of her other smiles. Those were practiced. This one was genuine. As beautiful and unrestrained as it was, however, it was also so unbelievably painful to witness, especially after what she just said to him.

She was right, though. He knew that.

When she turned and walked away, he couldn’t stop the surge of emotion. It bowled him over, tearing down so many of his defenses, and then the pain ripped through him like a hot tornado. When the tears began dripping from his eyes, the others didn’t know what to make of it. He didn’t care. As tough as he was on the exterior, there was a softness and humanity about him he seldom let show, one that he was always trying so desperately to bring into balance.

Cira came and stood next to him. He wiped his eyes as he watched Kiera climb the stairs into the jet.

“What did she say to you?” Cira said.

“Nothing you would understand,” he replied.

“Our car is here,” Esty said. They were leaving, heading back to wherever it was from which they’d come.

Estella sauntered up to Atlas, put out a fist, and knuckle-bumped him. He saw the respect in her eyes, but he felt her appreciation when he saw the slight grin on her face. “I’d follow you into hell any day, brother,” she said. “I hope we can do it again, but with a lot less bruising to this face of mine.”

“It’s a good face,” he said, hugging her. “Probably beautiful under all that abuse.”

“Trust me, it is the most beautiful face,” Yergha said, bro-hugging Atlas when Esty was done. “What she said about going into hell with you, I’d take that trip as well.”

After saying their goodbyes, Cira looked at Atlas and said, “We have to wait for an hour before our plane arrives, so if you want to get a little shuteye before we take off, now’s the time.”

The chartered plane arrived a little early, they boarded it, and then before he knew it, they were airborne and headed back to California. It was late when they arrived but instead of going back to NorCal State Prison, Cira checked them into the Weston St. Francis Hotel in San Francisco.

“Does Leopold know about this?” Atlas asked.

“He will when we’re sitting in a hot bath after a belly full of room service.”

“If you’re trying to make a good last impression,” he said with an easy smile, “it’s working.”

“I can’t have you going back to prison with that bald-on-bald love affair being the last thing you remember. What was that anyway?”

“Not a love affair for starters,” he laughed with regards to Kiera’s kiss. “Did you see that coming?”

“Not in a bajillion years.”

“Yeah, me neither, and yet the emotion and intensity behind it was the truest, most honest thing I think I’ve ever felt.”

“You can tell me how you feel after a backrub and a blowjob.”

He laughed and said, “I’ve been dying for a grilled cheese sandwich and some fries. But the blowie sounds good, too.”

The next morning, she received an early text, one that made her smile. “I want to take you to the Fisherman’s Wharf,” she said. “Leopold says it’s okay so long as you have a hat, glasses, and a mask.”

“I think he’s starting to like me,” Atlas said. “Maybe I should stop calling him Leo.”

“Secretly, I think he likes it.”

The two of them spent the day together, and for a while, it was like he wasn’t an ex-husband, a killer, or a lifer. He was just Atlas Hargrove, patient, kind, sensitive, and nurturing. He felt the closeness forming between him and Cira, so much so that he wanted to tell her not to fall for him, that there was no light at the end of the tunnel. She was a smart young woman, capable of making her own decisions, and brave for being who she was with him. While floating through that fantasy afternoon, he realized she needed him as much as he needed her.

“Time to go,” she said.

It was almost six o’clock and even though he wanted another day with her, maybe even another week, he always knew that when the time was up, it was up.

“It was fun while it lasted,” Atlas said. “Please be sure to thank Leopold for me, not just for this day, but for everything.”

She opened her Uber app and within a few minutes a very nice North African man picked them up in a 3-series BMW. He did a double-take at this beautiful blonde, but then he frowned as he looked at Atlas—the bald-headed thug in the back seat.

Instead of going to the prison, however, Cira gave the Uber driver a different address, one Atlas didn’t recognize.

When they arrived, Cira said, “Get out.”

“Excuse me?” he asked.

“Hurry up or you’ll miss it,” she said while handing him the phone they had recovered from Keegan White’s house.

He was just about to ask for clarification when he saw a familiar car driving toward them. Only when he saw the driver did his heart started thumping again. God, he couldn’t take much more of this.

The driver started to slowly pass by him but then she saw him and stopped. She rolled her window down, the look on her face priceless. “Atlas?” she asked. “Is that really you?”

“Hi, Jade,” he replied.

“How…?”

“I can’t stay but a moment but I want to show you something, and then I want to tell you something.”

She couldn’t seem to speak, so he opened the phone Cira had