Out Of The Dust

53

Miguel stood on the balcony of his house, overlooking the unforgiving desert. He was the opposite of his sister, he liked the heat of the desert. He wondered, how many bodies were buried out there, how many forgotten faces were left out there because of him, or his father. Miguel heard his front door open, and he sighed, fixing his jacket. Marcus stood off to the side, watching carefully. After the confrontation in the desert a few days back, he felt like he had to watch his back.

"Mikey?" Nestor called out as he walked into the house, "What's up?"

"La sangre no hace la familia." Miguel said and turned to face his mercenary, "I was thinking about what you told me, the night my mother was killed. I was also thinking about how my sister decided to quit the Mayans that night."

"Miguel-"

"I need to know where your loyalties lie, Nestor. I need to know you'll kill for me. I need you to kill my sister."

Nestor felt his heart stop in his chest. He knew at some point in time that it would lead to this. That Miguel would blame Daizee for what happened to his mother. He was so blind with grief, he wouldn't listen to what Daizee had to say.

Daizee had explained everything to Nestor, from the day her parents died, to placing the pieces together of Dita hiring the hit on them. Nestor learned of Daizee's pain, and how she had no clue the Reyes brothers were going to kill Dita until it was too late.

"You'll leave Mateo alone?" Nestor said.

"Won't be the first child orphaned by a Galindo." Miguel shrugged. Nestor looked at his feet and then nodded. Miguel sighed and walked up to Nestor and kissed his forehead, "I know you would do the right thing."

Daizee hadn't moved from her bed in days. Leti had been in and out of the house, taking care of Mateo, cleaning the house, making Daizee something to eat, even though it sat outside her bedroom door. Nestor had hardly been in the house, not wanting to upset the girl any farther.

The last few days had played over and over in her mind. The images of her brother choking her, Nestor betraying her, Angel's proposal, and Steve's death, were like some cruel movie and the ending credits begin the end of her life. For once, she was terrified of death. Terrified of what it meant, when it could happen.She hated the feeling of waiting, waiting for the moment to strike.

Daizee pushed herself up off her bed, and looked around the dark room. She couldn't hide in her forever. If Miguel was going to kill her, this is the place he would do it too. Somewhere she'd expect it, just like her parents. Miguel was like his mother, wanted to be able to smell the fear of his victims. Daizee was paranoid, and being incapacitated in her bed, didn't do much good.

Daizee's bare feet padded down the hardwood floors to the office. She didn't even dare to look in the mirror, she knew her hair looked like a mess, her face had acne on it, she was wearing the same shirt as 3 days ago. But Daizee's green eyes were set on the black gun locker she kept behind her desk. She quickly opened it, and pulled out her hand gun. The metal gun was seemingly heavier than before. She had seen again what kind of damage this weapon can do. She was taught in the military that weapons are tools, guns kill people. She was quickly finding out that all this piece of metal can do is kill people. . . kill innocent people.

Daizee grabbed a box of ammo and locked the safe up. She took the key and went out to the backyard, burying it among her rose bushes. She then decided to make herself presentable. She was done hiding, done wallowing in her own self pity. Daizee Ortega was once someone to fear, someone not to piss off unless you wanted to see the barrel of the gun. Somewhere along the line the confidence had been crushed. She knew good as any, what she had to do. And it started with taking a shower.