Free Gringa - in the Clutches of a Ruthless Drug Lord - 2 by Eve Rabi Page A

chorus.
    Pissed off, I hurry away. How dare they treat me like a hired hand? I’m Mujer de Diablo. Diablo’s woman, remember? Lady of the Manor. I will not stand for …
    ‘Make quick,’ Rosa yells. ‘Go! Go!’ Go!’
    ‘ Si ,’ I say meekly and fetch Vodka and a platter of cheese for my drunken servants so that they will divulge more about Diablo. Maria said she was not a big drinker – my ass!
    As they polish another bottle, they fight over each other to tell me more.
    ‘Diablo is thirteen, Jimo hit him with a whip over here,’ Rosa says, pointing to her forehead. ‘Then Diablo, he turn around and he grab Jimo and cut his neck. Front of everybody. Some people clap.’
    ‘Omigod!’
    ‘Then everyone be scared of Diablo, Gringa. They call him a mad dog and they call him devil. Diablo, he put tattoos over here.’ She points to her forehead.
    So that’s why he’s got three green lines over his forehead; to cover the scars left by Jimo’s whip.
    Maria explains that all the men in his gang followed suit and tattooed three green lines across their forehead – an emblem that identified them as Diablo’s men.
    They tell me that Diablo used to paint his face black, probably to scare and intimidate anyone wanting to take Jimo’s place. In time, his beard covered his face and the black paint was no longer necessary.
    Christa was not happy with Diablo as their leader and called in her brother Tony, known as “Tongue” to take Jimo’s place. Tongue was older, ruthless and strong and Christa was sure he could handle Diablo. But Diablo rejected Tongue’s leadership and almost killed him in a fist fight. Defeated, Tongue backed off and accepted Diablo’s leadership.
    Terrified of his mental state, Christa had no choice but to accept Diablo as their leader even though he was only thirteen. She was smart enough to realize that one of Diablo’s strength was his fearlessness and having Diablo around, kept them all safe from other bandits and drug lords.
    ‘So that’s what they mean when they say he killed his own father,’ I murmur, remembering the FBI’s words. They too had it wrong. Hope they’re listening.
    ‘Diablo not trust anyone Senorita,’ Rosa says. ‘He not allow anyone to get close to him. Only Troy. But we take care of them – Diablo and Troy. Maria and me, we like Troy. We like Diablo. They are our boys. Where they go, Rosa and me, we go too. But Christa she make Diablo do bad things. She put bad stuff in his head and she make him bad.’
    ‘ Si ,’ Maria says, ‘Diablo don’t sleep. See his eyes? Red, eh? Can’t sleep. He smoke all night. Bad dreams. He too scared to close his eyes.’
    Wow. The monster, the beast, the monster that filled my nightmares has trouble sleeping because of bad dreams. Unfuckingbelievable!
    When the second bottle of Vodka is finished, I bring up the subject of housework.
    Both women look at me with arched eyebrows.
    ‘ You do it today,’ Rosa slurs.
    ‘ Si , you do it today,’ Maria echoes.
    ‘You have a hope in hell!’ I snarl and before they get physical with me, I stagger to my room and collapse on my bed, shell-shocked by all I’ve heard. I mean Diablo was a six year old boy and yet he was tortured and treated worse than an animal. How does anyone get past that?
     

CHAPTER TEN
    Things change after that - I can no longer look at Diablo the same way after learning about his abusive and horrendous childhood. Now, so many things fall into place, like his rage, his reclusiveness, his red eyes which stems from insomnia...
    The world has him wrong. If they knew what motivates Diablo, they too would look at him differently – not as a beast or devil they make him out to be, but as a wounded creature, terrified of being hurt by anyone.
    Diablo was not born evil, he was molded into evil.
    As for Troy – no wonder he is always protecting me, I am his brother’s property and he has Diablo’s back.
    Frankly, I have absolutely no sympathy for Jimo. The fucker