Guilty (BWWM)

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Past

Wednesday, March 25, 2013

1:04p.m.

Los walked up the cobblestone pathway of his home.  Standing infront of the door,  he took a deep breath before entering.  He knew all too well that Valencia was going to be pissed at him for coming home so late in the day, but he had work to do.  Los had been out all night running an errand for Bleu; he had to kill some guy that was stupid enough to try to cross Bleu.  Who would be so dense as to think that they would get away with it?  A cop, that's who, but he got what he deserved in the end.

Too bad for that wife of his though.

He smelt the late breakfast being cooked from outside the door.  His mouth watered from the scent as he grinned to himself.  Maybe today, he wouldn't have to endure too much of Valencia's wrath.  Los tip toed inside to attempt a sneak attack on his fiancé, but when he got to the kitchen he froze.  Sitting at his marble top kitchen table was the wife of the man he had to kill last night.

She looked at him and gave him a shy smile, but he didn't return it.

Valencia peered up at him from the frying pan.  "Oh,  so now you want bring your ass home.  You should've stayed where you were,  Carlos!"  She sneered.

Corrine got up, abruptly leaving the kitchen not wanting to be apart of the awkward moment.  However, she found herself eavesdropping on their conversation from the other side of the wall.

"¿Estás fuera de tu mente de mierda?  Val, are you trying to get us killed?!"  He shouted, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration, anger, and fear.  This entire situation was fucked up.

She had ruined the plan and as Bleu's right hand,  he had to think on his feet--or else this situation would be  misinterpreted as traitorous.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

Los paced back and forth in front of her.  "Shit."  There was only one thing that he could do to save himself and his fiancé.  Corrine had to die.

"Baby, she was the one Bleu set up.  That woman is supposed to be in jail.   Her being free puts us,  which means you too,  at risk."  Los slowly spoke.  Corrine's eyes bulged and her heart began to pound wildly against her chest.  No fucking way was she about to be taken out like this.

"So what are you saying, Carlos?"  She asked on the verge of tears.  Valencia knew the answer, but hoped to God that he would say something else. Los cupped her olive toned face in his hands, wiping away the stray tear that escaped.  Her chocolate orbs peered into his honey brown ones, begging him not to say what he was going to.

"You know what I'm saying, mi amor.  It's her; or us.  I'm doing what I have to do to protect you, lo entiendes?" 

"I understand." She muttered solemnly.  Los pressed his lips against her forehead.

"I'll be right back, okay? Wait here, and if she comes back, do what ever you can to act normal."   Los instructed.

Corrine couldn't believe what she'd just heard.  Her friend had agreed to her execution.  Fuck that. 

She quickly padded to her gym bag and took out the small handgun that she stashed in there for emergencies.  If there was one thing she learned growing up in Baltimore, she learned to be ready for anything.  She pulled the bag over her shoulder after slipping on her shoes. With her gun cocked and loaded, she crept around the corner leading into the kitchen. 

Valencia's back was the first thing in her line of vision.  Her gun was aimed as if she was ready to put a bullet in her best friend's back, but the reality of the situation was that she couldn't.

Though Valencia had just given her fiancé permission to kill her,  she couldn't will herself to pull the trigger.  Pull it together, you heard them yourself.  It's you... or them.

"Val,"  Corrine called out to her ex friend's back. 

Valencia quickly wiped her fallen tears before turning around.  "Cor-" Her words were caught inside of her throat.  "Cori...What are you doing?" She stammered nervously, petrified.

"I should ask you the same question.  Where is he?" Valencia couldn't answer, she was too busy being hypnotized by the barrel of the gun.  "Talk!"  The firmness in Corrine's voice was enough to snap her out of it.

"H-He's...outside."  Valencia stuttered.

"Perfect.  Let's go."  Corrine commanded motioning her head to the door,  still aiming the gun. 

"Please don't do this."  Valencia begged through tears.

"It's me or you, right?  Well I choose myself, just like you did, now walk!"  With one forceful nudge, Corrine sent Valencia stumbling out onto the cobblestone walkway.

"What the hell?!"  Los shouted taking notice of the scene in front of him.  He quickly whipped out his pistol and aimed it at his unexpected enemy.

"Ah ah ah,"  Corrine yanked Valencia up by her arm, pointing her gun at Valencia's temple. "Put it down and give me the keys to your car."

Los contemplated on defying her, but the look in her eyes told him that she wouldn't hesitate to take away the love of his life right before his eyes.  Reluctantly, he slowly placed his pistol on the concrete and kicked it away.

"Now the keys." He nodded in compliance, tossing them at her feet.  "I get that you were just doing what you felt you had to do, but I have to do the same.  Nothing personal."

Los and Corrine stared into each other's eyes, silently coming to a mutual understanding of one another.  He lifted his hands and stepped away from the car. 

Never had he ever imagined himself being back into a corner like this.  It was even more ironic that he had respect for the woman holding the gun.

Corrine nudged Valencia to him and the two quickly embraced.  She took that time to snatch up the keys and run to his all black Mercedes Benz.

"Hey," she heard Los' voice call just as she opened the door.  Corrine lifted her head.  "Be smart.  Don't forget who you're dealing with.  You slip up once, that could be it for you."

"Yeah," Corrine responded before sitting down and igniting the engine.  "I know."