Caged: Retribution

Chapter 14

Before Téa returned to the bed, she stopped at the bedroom door to study the two sleeping men. Sheets pooled at their feet. Todd in all his glory, lay on his back, facing slightly away from Rico. Rico, equally as raw, lay on his side, an arm flung across Todd's chest as if he was trying to keep him from running. The darkness was thick and seemed to be a layer of protection, safety… womb-like. She rubbed her protruding belly, comforted that Esperanza was within her. The presence of the baby was the only reason she could be in Cuba this long, away from the children. Esperanza was all of them and they were all inside her. She'd be giving birth within a couple of months and knew she'd be joyous but also grieving. Every time she gave birth, she mourned her child no longer being just hers, no longer entirely safe from the wildness of life.

You belong to the world now… vaya con dios.

She wished the night wouldn't end.

Climbing into the bed, she felt Todd turn further on his side, further towards her, drawing his knees up like a child. Rico rolled over and away. When she looked, she realized Todd's eyes were open, staring right back at her.

"You're awake," she said quietly, not wanting to disturb Rico. She turned onto her side, mimicking his position.

"Yeah...you okay?"

"Yes," she smiled, caressing his cheek, smoothing his beard. "Had to clean up a little…"

He winced at the obvious messiness of unprotected sex with men. He opened his mouth to say something but then slammed it shut. Lips tight with silence.

"Todd," she said, trying to ease the tension that immediately spread throughout his body… "I wanted it, I needed it. I am hoping it meant something to you."

He grunted quietly and moved closer to her, dipping his head and kissing her shoulder, throwing his arm around her. "I don't know," he said, lips moving against her skin. "I'm kind of ...stunned, hung over, unsure of everything."

"Even how much I love you? Unsure of that?"

Eyes up, lit with a surprising fire. "No, no…" He touched her face and took in her features. "I'm as sure as I've ever been on that. Even though you shot me." There was no humor in his words. He meant them. He felt Téa's love, the realness of it, the complexity, its searing heat…even in those fucking bullets. He nuzzled her. But it wasn't just her. He was aware of everything, everyone.

"I feel loved," he whispered.

Téa took a breath at his words. She did nothing, still in her hearing of it. He locked eyes with her. She nodded, and caressed his hair. Too many memories of him not feeling love flew through her and her own soul-deep wounds split open. Guess he needed more than just her. He needed Rico. She glanced away, a curse on her lips, and rolled onto her back.

"What?" He was up now, propped on his elbow. Brows were knit, asking, concerned.

"Nothing," she said. "I'm glad you're...feeling... love."

He lay back down, knowing he'd hit a sore spot. Not sure which one because he was dense in that way, sometimes. A lot of times. He'd just told her the truth. He closed his eyes and breathed her in, his back warmed by Rico. He felt love from all around these past few days. The kids, Téa, Rico, even Rolon and Pedro… where did it go so wrong? Didn't take a rocket scientist. Keeping it was his problem. Recalling it. Holding it. Allowing it to feed him, boost him, allowing him to return it in a good way, a permanent way. A healthy way. No… he was sure of her love. Sure of his own love for her. Even after the shooting. Didn't change that she was hurt by his words. He studied her, her own fragility. Only had to look back a couple of hours. Then he got close to her again.

"Téa, I felt loved, way long ago. By you. We sat in a diner, in Fayetteville, and you told me you were pregnant. And I knew you wanted that baby, specifically, 'cause it was mine." He grinned in recollection, a cocky grin, and she remembered, too. Smiled in spite of herself.

"God, of course that's when. Typical man."

Now he laughed. Still quietly. Then didn't, caressing tears that wetted her cheeks and then he kissed her. "I felt love when I saw you waiting for me at Statesville, the day I got out. I saw you standing by your car… waiting. I didn't think you'd be there. I really didn't know for sure."

"I told you I would."

"Téa… after five fuckin' years, after knowing about Gannon… I didn't know that you'd be there. But then you were."

"Rest is history."

"You… are… enough. Always." After a couple of seconds, he shrugged and sheepishly added, "Feeling love isn't really my problem anymore. I got other problems, more."

Téa laughed softly and then didn't, whispering, "No shit."

He smiled sadly, sighed, "Yeah, no shit."

"What are you questioning then?" she asked.

He swallowed and rested against her, sighing as he touched her. He lightly held her breast, then her swollen belly. "I was worried for you, for her… are you hurt? It seemed to hurt you..."

He was right, it did hurt, but she didn't have the language to explain the empathy in her taking them both in. The power of it, the idea of it, the symbolism of it. "I felt ripped apart," she said, "but I needed it. It spoke to so many things."

"We're killing you is what you're saying. I… am killing you."

She was quiet some moments. "Yes," she said, "… and no. Childbirth hurts too, tears women apart. And they are happy for it." She caressed his beard. Her expression was heavy with thought, her eyes fast to his.

"I'm lost now."

"No, no…please, don't be lost. Stay with me, amor." More silence. Holding each other with that gaze, the kind that a person could touch. "Stay with me," she whispered. He nodded and looked worried anyway.

She smoothed his beard more, asking, "Could you feel Rico when he was inside of me?"

Todd didn't respond a moment or two, then nodded.

"Was it… good? Or did it hurt?"

He could only look at her, a sad look of wonderment on his face. "Both, I think."

"Yeah," she murmured as they both just nestled against each other. "Sometimes pain is so full of love."

Todd kissed her shoulder, closing his eyes as he moved even closer to her, moving his leg over her. A base stirring in his cock made him slowly rock his hips against her side. She molded herself into him and the smallest, quietest whimper came from him. He took her into his arms… needing her more now than ever. He kissed her, slow, tender kisses, full of pain, full of sorrow, full of need.

He remembered their tryst all too well, despite the buzz of heroin, whiskey, jealousy, love, and the very real physical hate of Caro. He remembered the tightness, the wetness, the intense sexual high of the three of them intertwined. The sensation made him feel… deeply human and yet not human at all. It was as if he'd transcended his most basic identity. As if he was no longer himself. In that instant he felt Rico slide into Téa, suddenly he had become neither a man nor a woman. To feel Rico's cock inside of Téa … was to become an observer of the deepest connection a man and a woman could have. From the inside. It shot through him, into his heart, brain, spirit. He was suddenly right next to Esperanza. Yeah, yeah… he was a genderless fetus watching how life gets made, gets created…and feeling it. It made him come.

It was both godly and humbling. In one moment he became everything and nothing. The world awaited him.

"Fuck," he said, holding Téa. He was unsure if the sex had affirmed life, or confirmed death. He couldn't say for sure.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

He dragged fingertips across the tight skin covering Esperanza, back and forth, back and forth. He could feel Rico behind him and remembered being closed in by human heat right after the fucking, the sense of being kept in bed, tied down. But in a good way. Safe. Swaddled. Yes, yes, like a newborn. They miss the tightness of being inside their mother and need the blankets tight around them. He remembered that with Reese, felt like he knew that need, that loss. He'd squeeze him in those blankets and Reese would stop crying and peace would flow over him. Todd would get scared and be afraid he could squeeze him to death. He grunted softly and squeezed Téa to him. Eyes on hers again. A lot of shit flowed between them in that gaze.

"You didn't want me to bite you last night. That was different… I wasn't doing it on purpose, or…"

"I can't have you do that anymore."

"You used to like it."

"Not anymore."

Téa didn't push, sorry she didn't know earlier. Something had happened and she was afraid for him. She kissed his lips, his cheek, said, "I'm sorry."

Sighing, Todd continued to hold her and seemed to doze a little. Téa eyed the windows, such blackness. Terrifying, really. After a time, she asked, "Will you come home with me? Is your fight over?"

Todd spoke without opening his eyes. "My fight will never be over until those fuckers are all dead. But… maybe… maybe… I'll talk to that fucking Juarez first. Téa…"

"What?"

"I wanna come home to you, and the kids… I want it all. I told you that… I meant it."

"But Blanco didn't."

A very quiet… "No."

"You scared Rico with all your death talk."

"I know."

"But you meant all that. TODD meant all that. Blanco will survive anything, but my Todd…" She could feel herself getting emotional. She held him, said softly, "How badly you want it all over. How badly you want… to not breathe. No matter all the love you feel. That's what the heroin is about… not being alive, not breathing."

Her words hurt because they were true and he felt tears sting his eyes. God, he couldn't remember a time where dying didn't seem preferable to living. No matter the love. It's where her hurt came from, as if he chose heroin over her, over everything. Fuck. Except, she didn't understand that actually heroin removed the choice. Easy to get high, easy to not breathe. Easy to walk away from the most powerful love. Done. There was no choice. Not once it was in your system. Sure… choosing heroin but… when it's in front of you? Calling you? You just took it. At least, he did.

He pulled away from her, too raw at her easy autopsy of him, at the amazing desire for dope bubbling inside of him. He rolled over and faced Rico who was dead asleep despite all the chatter. He was clearly exhausted. His life wasn't so simple anymore. Téa got behind Todd, flush against him, both watching Rico sleep. He was on his side and the curves of his body made Todd's fingers itch. He wanted to touch him. Wanted to push that black hair out of his face.

"We'll bring him home," she said. "With us."

"Uncle Rico?"

"Todd…"

Téa wasn't as sure as she sounded, as truly open, but if saving Todd meant allowing for alternatives, for possibilities, she would do it. She knew people would think she was crazy… but… she didn't care. She needed to get Todd Manning home first. They could fight at home, they could figure everything out at home, they could goddamn divorce. But her children… they would have him home. Esperanza would look her father in his stormy eyes with her own.

"It's fuckin' ridiculous." He wasn't laughing - quite the opposite. "He deserves more than to be a fuckin' side show."

"We'll make it work. Or maybe… you want to just be with him?" She was emotionless as she asked a plain question. A very reasonable one.

His voice got harsh, louder than he meant, "Téa… I want US, you and me and the kids. I said that, I meant that! I don't want to be three… you don't get it… it's not a... he isn't..."

"You still don't know what you and he are? Still denying you love him?"

He groaned and peeled away, moving to the foot of the bed, facing away from them. Feet on the floor. He held his head in his hands and in the dark of the night, he was nothing but a beastly shadow. She followed him though, refusing to let him slip away so easily, and hated that he flinched when she put her arms around him. She held him, but the tension in his body had returned and it felt permanent. God… damnit. Egg shells. She'd forgotten.

"I'm sorry," she said… "I'm pushing you. Come back and lie down."

He turned to her and watched her. Ghostly light from somewhere fell on her skin and she was beautiful there, statuesque. Waiting for him. Forever waiting for him to just fucking BE. "I'm not denying anything…," he said quietly. "I just don't know where he fits. I can't SEE where he fits."

"So you do love him."

"Fuck."

Hard words for Téa, but words she had been expecting. She sighed and the room felt so very heavy. The world awaited them. And she would forever grieve not being able to protect him from everything anymore. He no longer belonged to just her. Tears welled and she tried to smile at him but she couldn't.

"Doesn't mean I don't love YOU, Delgado. God, I do. More than anything, more than everything."

"I know. Tell me that you're coming home anyway."

Her voice had cracked, all her wounds on the surface, and Todd turned to her. Held her by her hair, a desperate grip. He was full of that fire again. "Téa Delgado-Manning, I am going home to you and our children. I fucking promise you that."

All she could do was nod…"I'm holding you to that."

He bent to her… their foreheads touching...

Except their talk must have roused Rico because all of a sudden he gasped aloud, limbs jerking, flailing. In his sleep, he fell into Caro's world again. Smooth as silk, like she was air, Todd grabbed Téa into his arms and moved her off the bed, huffing, "He fights."

And sure enough, Rico fought his attacker, growling like an animal, kicking out hard, punching out. Téa knew better than to get in the way… she knew THAT all too well. She held her belly protectively. Todd was panting, eyes on his lover, standing still and ready to jump in if Rico didn't come around on his own. The battle on the bed was difficult to watch and hear… the agony and desperation was breathtaking. Téa found herself digging fingernails into Todd's arm.

"My god," she huffed.

"I know…," he said, the familiarity painful.

Finally, Rico did come out of it. He shot up to a sitting position, sniffing loudly and looking around, completely disoriented, breathing hard. Raw. He grabbed his cock, held it tightly, not seeming to be aware that he wasn't alone. He whimpered and slammed himself against the pillows. He was shaking, had a hand out defensively. He made a sound between a cry and a groan.

Todd assured him with a strong low voice, the one that swore revenge on anyone that got in their way, "Rico… it's us… we're at Sylvia's house. You are safe."

Rico searched the dark, focusing at last on the shadowed people at the foot of his bed. He blinked, nodded. "Okay, okay," he panted. "Que esta pasando?" His features were full of worry, fighting tears. He kept his eyes on Todd who softened, his whole body relaxing now.

"Esta bien, mari, no se preocupe," he said gently.

Rico closed his eyes and breathed a calming breath, calm not exactly coming to him. Téa moved back to the bed, getting close now. Rico turned to Téa and said thickly, "Estas bien? Sí?"

All at once, her woundedness retreated. The jealousy, the hurt over his being able to step up to love Todd when she had utterly rejected him with bullets he'd never forget… to love him and get that love right back, it all disappeared into his brokenness. "Yes, precioso," she smiled, "I'm fine. We're all fine. It's not even morning yet." Such beauty, such long legs and body, such perfect sepia-skin in this low light. She reached for him and held his arm, feeling an unexpected affection for him, a caring. He held her gaze for some time, as if he was using her calm to reach his own. Téa never noticed how much fear lay in those haunted dark eyes, how much loneliness lurked there. Of course, how could anyone not love him?

Rico dropped his gaze as Todd shuffled across the room and dug into a drawer. He drew close to Téa, saying quietly and quickly, "What are we doing now?"

Téa almost laughed, almost cried. Here Rico was, coming out of something horrible, a clearly agonizing experience, and not a minute later, he was asking what their next move was to save Todd Manning. She shook her head, sighed. Jesus CHRIST. With a serious expression, she watched as Todd pulled on some jeans, and buttoned them. He then shook out a cigarette from a pack and climbed onto the dresser. Lit up. Eyes on the outside world through the open window, the blackness still thick. The rain had stopped and it looked like there weren't even clouds in the sky. She turned back to Rico and touched his face, held his cheek. "You were dreaming, dark dreams."

After a second he nodded, "I did not do it before..."

"Before?"

Rico glanced down at his naked self, and said, "Before Blanco."

"Tell me," she said.

In low voices, in Spanish, Rico told her images he saw, the corrupted memories, and despite all her work not to, Téa wept quietly. She pulled Rico to her and wrapped her arms around him. "I am so sorry," she said.

Todd watched them as they spoke, their heads close, bodies close, their words lost in the darkness, never reaching his head, his mind. He heard them but didn't. His long hair hung down his face and he hunched over because his belly clenched with renewed hate. Knees up. He could taste Caro again and smoked to get rid of it. All the brushing and rinsing and whiskey and spitting wouldn't do anything to change that taste of sweat, skin and blood. His fight wasn't near done, so easy he grabbed onto the hate… so easy he left the transcendence of sex with Rico and Téa. So easy he walked away from love. And yet…

Here… in this room, in the bed...

... he could just as easily walk away from Caro, his men, the retribution. Even MK.

He had no idea where Rico would fit in, no idea what Téa was thinking, but he wanted to help Rico get to his family. He wanted to stand beside him as Rico made his own life in the U.S. Or near him. He imagined visits to New York, or Rico visiting Llanview… but couldn't quite get past him sitting at a dinner table… couldn't get to his and Téa's bed. Sure, on a prurient level, he could see them together, feel it, knew he'd never forget Rico's body, the way he fucked… the way he loved… but... but… he couldn't get to the realness of it.

He did love him. He wasn't hiding from it… just had no idea where it fit. What it meant. Would he long for it once Rico was away and on his own? Would he miss it? Would he go after it the way he chased down heroin, forgetting his family, Téa, everything? He didn't know the shape of this supposed love. Didn't know how it worked in the real world. Stupid shit to even think about. A luxury. He looked down at the alley and imagined his children running towards him, Abram chasing them, and he smiled at the idea. He could just feel them in his arms, their kisses, their talking, their scents. He practically hugged the air.

But then… they disappeared and all that was left was that house. The HOUSE. Little Alicia there in that room with Ivan. Ivan dead beneath him. Todd could feel the orgasm as he rubbed on that body. He had never intended that to happen and yet it did. Ivan's fighting for his life caused the friction and there it all went. Like it was meant to happen that way. Like HE was the abuser. He fucking hated it. And yet he wanted it again. It took everything in him to not grab his hardening cock right now. He was shaking with how badly he wanted to jerk off to Caro's dying body. He wanted to come all over his face, over the pulsing arteries. He breathed and let the desire pass, fade. He sighed in a kind of post-come bliss. Licked his lips and knew he was drifting in a memorized-heroin-high. He had to let go of all of it to get home. And when he saw Téa and Rico and his children running in the alley, he knew he COULD.

It was… possible. He promised and he knew he hadn't lied. He meant every word.

He threw the cigarette away and climbed back into bed to Téa's and Rico's surprise. He crawled in between them, separating them the way Reese separated Todd and Téa and he squirreled onto his back and pulled into himself and the two shuffled down and held him on both sides. Squeezing him.

"Tighter, tighter," he murmured.

Pedro Moreno hadn't quite recovered from seeing his son engulfed in such deep, blind hatred of Manuel. He had called out his name, Blanco, at some point but Todd was not present in any way that would have allowed him to hear Pedro. When he bit Manuel, Pedro's stomach had lurched, Pedro gagging at the sight. It was a madness, a very real madness. When his son stood, blood dripping off his face, Pedro had seen there was no man there. No man he knew. He wondered how Todd showed the madness to the rest of MK. They called him the Mad King and they were right to do so. It was frightening, even to Pedro who was no stranger to sociopaths. He himself could be one. He did not forget easily the time he killed an enemy who threatened all of MK. A single shot to the head, blood sprayed behind him, on the brick wall in Philadelphia… before Pedro landed in the cozy hills of Llantano county.

He had called the doctor to stitch up Manuel - not because he wanted to save him, but simply in order to stop the bleeding. Pedro had sheets to consider, and Gloria. He did not want her too shocked. She was an innocent in all this. The doctor had just left. Manuel was crying over the upcoming meeting, sure Todd was doing it just to kill him.

Pedro agreed but said nothing to Manuel.

Earlier, before the assault, he forced Manuel to set up the meeting that Blanco wanted. The thing was done. In less than 24 hours, all his people would be at the house Elon had once occupied. The place where Blanco had murdered Ivan.

He was sitting on the chair in Manuel's room and the sun had risen. Pedro had to give props to Manuel with regard to his efficiency in maintaining the business. The network was tight. The communication among all these child pornographers easy. The meeting had been a snap. Even Pedro would have a hard time gathering MK men in such a short window. Todd must have known this about Manuel's business to demand such a thing.

Manuel was moaning in pain. Pedro had removed the gag on the condition that he would not shout.

"You are going to kill me," Manuel said.

"Not me."

"He will cause me pain."

"No more than you caused him."

"Why have you turned on me, brother?"

Pedro rubbed his beard and bent to scratch his foot. He itched these days. Itchy feet. He sighed and sat back. His back hurt too. He was getting old. He'd just turned 66 recently and it felt like 76. "I did not turn on you, you turned on ME. You promised me that you would treat the children well. For what you were doing… you swore you treated them like ROYALTY."

Manuel whimpered. "I swear-"

"Don't lie to me. I have heard of the films. Rolon told me everything. My son learned of this from his lover. You arranged, you allowed, children to be murdered."

"It wasn't me… it was others."

"Don't lie."

"He is crazier than me."

Pedro didn't argue.

"How can you give MK up to him? All you have worked for? Giving it up to a crazy man?!"

Quiet followed. A fair question. "It is you who makes him insane. It is the fact that you still live, that your business continues. When it is done, he will regain his health. His… sanity."

"You believe this?"

"Yes."

"You are a fool."

"Tell me, Manuel, how is it that this… Rico… survived you? When those other children did not? Rico… was in those same films."

Manuel cried openly now, wept like a woman. When he seemed to regain control, he said, "He was beautiful."

"All children are beautiful."

"Not like him," he cried. "He showed such love for me."

Pedro was sickened, and he lit up, getting to his feet. "You forced that boy to play your lover! Of COURSE he was going to LOVE you!" He then growled, "And you call me a fool? You are such a stupid man."

"No, no, no, he loved me…" More crying.

Pedro paced. "And you raped Blanco who was just a child. I have no words to say how much I despise you for that."

"You act as if you did not know of my love of children."

"Fuck you. I did not know you were so low. You promised me you treated children like royalty."

He left the room. Walked into the bedroom where Gloria lay sleeping like an angel. Many times over the past couple of days she had said she wanted to leave. Of course, any time. But then she didn't. She stayed. She cared for Pedro. She cared so deeply and so thoroughly that he found himself in tears over his own transgressions, over how little he cared for his actual wife who had long stopped loving Pedro. I am sorry, my Gloria. She had smiled and made him coffee and fed him sweet bread. He stood on the patio, watching the waves. He would be the first MK leader to step away voluntarily. He had already told several of his peers and they supported it. They said the young men of today wanted something new, fresh, with a fearlessness that the world demanded. Blanco seemed to exude that. The old men all agreed. And welcomed Pedro into a new club. Gang-emeritus. He laughed. Hoped this would all go smoothly. It was the least he could give Blanco. When he returned, Manuel had settled. So had he.

"I need to use the toilet, my brother."

Pedro went ahead and untied Manuel. He had been allowing him moments to go to the bathroom. This was nothing new.

Manuel sat up slowly, holding his chest. He eased himself off the bed. He hobbled towards the door, Pedro behind him. He had long been eyeing the bronze eagle that sat on the table at the door. He had long decided that if he could help it, the monster that called himself Blanco would not get ahold of him. Blanco had wanted a meeting with everyone… with all the distributors, filmmakers, customers… everyone in Havana related to the pornography business. Pedro made Manuel call for it. He did. Tomorrow morning everyone would be at the Old City house. Thirteen men and two women. In an apparent act of mercy, Blanco was going to meet with them and tell them to leave before the business was ended forever.

But now Manuel knew Blanco would kill him. Perhaps after the meeting. Maybe before. Like hell was he going to comply with this… meeting. At least, not without a fight.

"Pedro," he began, hunching in pain… and then reaching for the eagle. He grabbed it and before Pedro could react, he swung around and slammed it into Pedro's head who fell like a sack of potatoes. He stood, huffing over the man.

"I am so sorry, hermano," he said.

He dressed fast and ran out the front door. He had a plan. He had to get his own retribution on the man who was going to end him. The preemptive strike, as they say. He had no choice. He didn't ask to be this way, he was born this way. And as Rico proved, he DID treat his children like royalty. The few who died… had to die. It was about Manuel's survival. Rico, he knew, would keep his secrets which he did. Rico had been Manuel's treasure… the ultimate show of Manuel's goodness.

Blanco had no right to kill him like so much trash. After all, Blanco had Rico now. How could he not see the rightness of all that Manuel did?

When morning arrived, sun pouring through the window, Todd awakened. He shivered in the cold despite Téa and Rico pressed up against him. They'd made love again, the three of them. They'd touched and kissed and licked and sank inside of each other. They moved like lazy waves of a tropical dark sea. He had listened to the sounds of Téa and Rico, and himself. The gentle moans and heated whimpers and heavy breathing. No words. Just a singular beautiful noise. There didn't seem to be distinctions in their bodies either. They were strangely one and yet clearly three. Todd couldn't even say what had made him ejaculate - was it Téa's mouth or Rico's hand? Or vice versa? Had he been rubbing on the skin of Téa or Rico? Had he been sliding and grinding on their bodies until he was coming or was it just sheer biology, just a result of unrelenting tender touching of everything sexual on him, on them?

He had no idea.

He did know orgasms didn't end anything. They all came at different points and not just once and the sex just continued. The tryst simply faded into sleep the same way night simply turned into morning.

Now, Téa and Rico were sleeping hard and he carefully disentangled himself and crawled out of bed. He grabbed fresh clothes for a shower. He wasn't sure what his plan was… but… he was going into the city. Figured he'd meet with Juarez, figured maybe… maybe… he'd call off the dogs on the Old City house. He really didn't know if that meeting had ever been set for sure. Figured he'd confirm today. maybe he'd just tell the cops where all those bastards would be… and there'd be no explosion, no body parts over the city… and he'd be breathing at the end of all of it.

The idea felt... real. He almost smiled at the thought of flying home, the thought of seeing his children. He'd figure out Rico. They all would. In truth, Rico was still a kid. Might even be younger than Jedediah. He needed a full life, yeah? Education, experiences, travel… healthy love. He needed a person who hadn't been wrecked as a child. A person who could show him the right way to love… like Téa.

He almost laughed… okay, someone maybe not as hot-tempered as Téa. No bullets. Rico was built much more delicately than Todd… he'd not survive such a thing but then… Rico would never move someone to want to kill him. He was too beautiful to kill.

THAT almost made him cry. Yeah, Rico deserved so much better than anything Todd could offer him. Yeah.

Before he left the house, all dressed for the day, bike bag over his shoulder, carrying some items he needed to pass along, he just looked at Téa and Rico. They were cuddled together. The sight wounded him for an unknown reason. Maybe he felt alone, maybe he felt destiny still knocking on the inside of his chest.

They were meant to be together… without you. Because Kingdom Come awaits you. Hell awaits you. The crown awaits you.

No, he said to himself, he promised Téa that he would go home. And he intended to make that happen. He closed the door quietly, shaking away the dark thoughts. At the bottom of the stairs was Raquel and Abram. The dog pulled towards him until the doctor let him go. And Todd smiled and let himself get licked and kissed. He got down and finally just held the dog to him. He breathed and let the dog do his job of calming him, easing his troubled soul.

"Is Rico upstairs?"

"Yeah, with my wife."

She raised an eyebrow.

In English he said, "Don't judge me."

"At least she is already pregnant. I would hate for her to wonder who the father is."

She said nothing further as Sylvia came blustering in with food for lunch. It would be a good one, the smell of fresh bread and vegetables hitting him, making his mouth water. Abram looked up at him and he knew the dog was fed and happy. He knelt down and petted him and told him he was a good guy, and to watch Rico.

"He needs you," Todd whispered to the dog as if he understood.

He then walked out the door and didn't look back.

For all the secrecy Blanco employed, it didn't take long for Manuel Caro to learn where the Mad King was holed up. He found Sylvia's place easily enough. It was a modest house just outside the downtown limits where many houses just like it became small inns for tourists. This house had a cozy back entrance onto an alleyway. He watched Todd Manning leave the house with a bag across his shoulder, head hanging. He just marched down the alley and disappeared around the corner. Manuel stayed hidden in the shadows that had come with the sunny day. Two women left at some point. The place was quiet.

Caro tried opening the back door and it was locked. He stepped away and considered alternative ways in. He stepped into the small space between this house and the next and saw an open window. He went to it and peeked inside. The kitchen. Empty. He shoved the window further open and slipped inside. When he landed, amazingly soundlessly for such an old man as himself, he thought Pedro would be proud. He heard voices. A man's and a woman's. Upstairs. Quiet, amenable.

He had gone to his house before coming here, the one downtown. A little apartment he maintained. He had showered, dressed into his best clothes. Fine wool pants, a snazzy silk shirt that little ones liked to touch. Dark green. Very nice. His good shoes. He brought his blade. One he'd gotten very good at using over the years. And a small pistola. He hoped to corner Blanco, to fight him on proper terms. More fair. But when he saw him leaving, he had noticed a shadow walk past an upper window. He knew Blanco was with Rico so then he got a new idea. A much better one than fighting Blanco which admittedly was a stupid idea. He had seen the Mad King in battle in prison and more recently. He was… very tough.

But Rico was tender. Gentle. He'd be easy to kill. Now.

But now… who was the woman?

He climbed the stairs and listened to the conversation. He recognized the smooth delicious voice of Rico and he closed his eyes and remembered the beauty of him. It made him cry once more. He'd released him from his direct employ ages ago, when he turned fourteen, when he became too old for Caro to delight in. He had given him to Gavín the local brothel owner. Gavín enjoyed Rico and it was a match. Gavín often told Caro what a good worker Rico was… wished there more like him. Of course.

"Where did he go?"

"He didn't say. I might be married to him, but he tells me nothing. He hasn't told me anything in years."

"He tells me only things he needs me to know."

"I'm not surprised."

"Téa… thank you for last night. You are… wonderful. I wish there was something I could do for you. I feel… badly."

"Why?"

"The obvious, no?"

"Rico… you are his choice. He has gone through terrible things. I don't blame you. I shot him. If it wasn't for me, he wouldn't be here. Rico… you wouldn't be here."

"You are probably right, but still… I feel like I am confusing him."

"Don't…"

"Téa, I will leave him to you. I have a family to learn about."

The conversation continued and Caro shook with angst. My god, he thought, that is Blanco's wife. It was confusing and delicious and….

He stepped more steps and from the hallway he glimpsed the woman. His heart beat a thousand times faster. She was with child! He grabbed himself and pressed tightly against the wall. Yes, yes…. he had long wished for an infant right from the womb. Wet with amniotic fluid to smooth over his body, the slickness, the earthy scent of birth. He shook more and had to squeeze himself and squeeze more to calm himself. He shuddered with the edges of an orgasm. How virile he still was! He licked his lips and breathed through the sexual flood.

He thought to take Rico, to deprive Blanco of that love… but God had given him something much greater indeed. Yes, when the morning would come and the meeting would happen…

… Blanco's wife would be waiting for him. With perhaps her c-section baby in her lap.

Caro stepped into the doorway of the bedroom and Rico's mouth dropped open in horror.

"What is the matter, darling one?"

"Rico? Who is this?"

Rico was silent, stunned. In a kind of slow motion that Téa's brain could not process, Caro raised his hand and Rico ran towards him, his hands up, saying, no, no, no. And it was like a replay of Téa's own shooting. For a second, Téa didn't even know if was real or not. The bullet fired and Rico's head knocked back and he fell hard like a tree, like a stone-filled-tree. Arms splayed, chest rising and falling over and over. Blood had splashed Téa.

She stood still and bit down and realized what was happening. This was real. This was a very bad person that Rico recognized. Was he dead? She could not look. She did not dare look. Abram was barking like crazy from the other bedroom. The door had been closed, locking him in. It was a joke between Rico and Téa just an hour before. Raquel sent him upstairs as she called out that there was lunch waiting, before she left. Abram bounded into their room and onto the bed. Rico had gotten up and pushed him into the other room and came tumbling back into bed to a laughing Téa. He'd smiled and landed next to Téa and made like her new husband… stupid. Silly. Let's pretend! He'd taken her in a romantic kiss and Téa played along and it was… stupid silly...

"Rico…"

"Come with me, beautiful woman. Come with me now so your baby will be safe, so your baby will survive. Otherwise, I will kill you just the same as I have killed precious Rico."

Téa started to scream, the thing now real. Realer than real. The gun was in her mouth now. Her hair in Caro's hand. His breath hot on her face. She could not risk Esperanza. A kick to the groin would only inflame this man. He was strong. Much stronger than he looked. NO… she had to comply.

She had no choice.

"Come before I kill your baby."

She nodded and went with him, hearing Rico gasp behind her, a choking fighting gasp.

The door was left open. And Abram howled and howled.

To be continued….