My Sister Makes Me Hard Chapter 9
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RevengeChapter 6 free porn video
Cold fire was still burning inside me, when late that night I was brought out from my basement dungeon. I silently dressed in the pants given to me, and was brought to the yard. It was surprisingly brightly lit. Carl had left soon after his show, but the guard who had brought Ana was there. And so was 'el jefe', the local big man. So, this was it. The end. No revenge for me. Once again the good guys finish last, while the bad guys will get everything. My grim thoughts were interrupted when I was pushed down, to sit in a chair placed in the shadows.
When I took a closer look at the situation, it looked like a celebration of a new agreement and I did my best not to show how much I understood. So I just looked around while still trying register and hear everything possible. Without doubt Carl or his company was involved with smuggling ... drug importing. Since everything was working inside a profitable company, nobody suspected anything. If you are already making millions do you need more? Apparently, you do.
The party went on, then at some point 'el jefe' stood and started his speech. I could follow him quite well, but made sure that it did not show. As I was sober, unlike most of the men taking here at the party, I could sense that he was heading to something with his speech. He talked about trust and reliability as foundations of our small family, our business - his business. And how a man's word was his life. Then, after a greasy joke, he all of sudden picked up a pistol and shot that one particular guard between his eyes. Then he sat down and finished his burrito and beer.
I made sure that I looked shocked because of the shooting, while I was cheering inside. I was still alive. I might be able to have my revenge.
Some time later, the boss rose and came to me.
"I do not like family things to be told outside the family. Not even to friends if they are not family. Business is business but family is family."
And then he walked back to his place by the table, and I was escorted back to my servant's room, not to the dungeon downstairs. It seemed to me that 'el jefe' was not too pleased because of Carl's actions. And he had been even less pleased that there had been someone inside who had leaked some information to Carl. That gave me some, even if very vague, but some hope.The following morning I was woken by a girl who looked tired, and wore much too much make-up. She was slim and could not have been more than fourteen years old. There was one guard by the door who talked to her in Spanish. I understood that she was supposed to take care of the wounds on my back. Then he turned to me and used probably half of the English vocabulary he knew.
"Your nueva puta."
That was how Sofia was introduced to me. She looked like she had just been picked from some illegal whorehouse nearby, which was probably also the truth.
At the back of the house Helen knocked on a door and an elderly woman of supposedly Latin heritage opened. Helen asked her in Spanish how the old man was feeling and once she was told that he was okay, she asked her to go to kitchen and have a break while we visited him. Once inside, she closed the door behind us before turning to me.
"Carl insists that we use only Spanish-speaking nurses to take care of him. You know that the old man does not speak any foreign languages."
Even if I knew that the old man - Barney (oh, how he had hated his first name) - had changed, seeing him was still a shock. I knew that my mother had liked him, and he had been quite a handsome older man. But now he was a shadow of the man he used to be. Yet still, he managed to look a bit charming when he saw us coming and smiled to us.
"Hi, Helen. And you young man - I did not know that my dear Lorraine has a brother. Where is she, by the way? I'd really like to have my pipes cleaned."
And then he laughed in a way that showed that something that had been there was clearly missing. The meaning of his words hit me hard, but I had just had more than two years time practicing how not to show my feelings. So, I smiled to him and encouraged him to continue.
And oh, he loved to speak when there were people listening and encouraging. His mind was jumping back and forth like a little child's, and when I occasionally looked at Helen it was obvious that quite a lot of stuff he told was something she had not heard before. Nothing less than the things I had faced down there in Colombia could have prepared me to what I managed to gather together from his stories. He sort of recognized me, but he also knew that it could not be me, as I was in Colombia and probably already taken care of: ie, deceased, killed. Quite a hard talk from your father.
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