Caged

Chapter 50

Ken McNair put his hand on the screen and turned away, eyes on Jedediah who studied a text book on the other desk despite his mad hangover, obviously deciding not to totally waste time in Havana. The windows were open, the noise grounding, the cool air relieving. Ken needed that against the images he was working. And especially from what he looked at now.

Jed glanced his way, "What's the matter? You look like you seen a ghost." Ken really did look a little pale. Sick, actually. "Shit, dude," Jed murmured. "What's going on?

"Rico," he rasped. "Aww that poor fuckin' kid."

Jed put the book aside. "What?"

"Pictures." He clicked the monitor off, the shots still there, the video, under the black. He shuddered. Never in all his time working the catch-a-predator gig had he seen pictures of someone he knew, even tangentially. They were kids… but then… they were strangers. He stood up, needing a different scene. Jesus. Caro had ventured far beyond the norm into a whole other genre with Rico at the center.

"Are you sure it's him?" Jedediah swallowed. He called it already. Thought Rico would have been too beautiful a child not have been used… extensively. "I mean, people change."

Choking out the words, Ken said, "It's him. Fuckin' seven, eight years old. And that's just the start. I need air."

The door to the hotel room opened, then closed. The monitor black.

Good morning, fuckin' Havana!

Jed huffed, eyes on the slammed door then back to the boulevard. The morning was gorgeous, gotta hand the island that, birds singing, sun making the streets glisten. A stark difference from the storm that rolled in the previous day...as well as the storm in the skies.

Pops…and Téa.

Gloria called after the lunch hour, saying Todd had a major battle with Pedro Moreno at a clinic in the red light district. She said… Blanco won't come back, he's not well, demanded space from everyone. Added, Pedro is distraught. Keeping him at the beach house to prevent further confrontation. She'd sounded stressed.

Jedediah had no idea where to find Todd. Gloria didn't offer and he didn't ask. Figured his Pops was doing a disappearing act a la Sixteenth Street which always meant… stay the fuck away. When he went downstairs to get something to eat, to soothe his roiling stomach, he found Téa waiting for him in the lobby. It was good to see her, but at that point, a raving Rolon Lopez came tearing back from the clinic, fuming, pointing his finger at Téa and saying, "We gotta talk, mamita." Téa left in a shocked rush. "Gotta go," she said. Followed him to the hotel down the street. Jed stuffed his face in the hotel restaurant… not stunned whatsoever.

Téa then left a message later for Jed to stay put, that she'd be coming up later. Except Téa never came to him, having also disappeared into the Cuban ether.

Rolon showed up at the hotel near dinner time, all screwed up at learning that MK was a goddamn child pornography empire which Jed said was a little overstated, which got them arguing the term, empire, and he and Jed ended up a lot drunk in the bar downstairs. Rolon then left because he said maybe Téa would be coming back and he better be in their room... which Jed was VERY confused over because why the FUCK was Téa sleeping in the same room as Rolon? Which could only mean one thing. At which point he drank himself into kind of a stupor because between his dad fucking a guy and his moms fucking an MK soldier, Jed was a lot fucked up, at which point a very nice Cubana waitress walked him to his room and to his bed, so nice in fact she stayed with him until the morning… hahaha doncha know how fast those damn waitress outfits come off and goddamn it, he was NOT going to be the only member of the Manning family in Cuba NOT fucking.

Oh yeah, Ken stayed hidden the entire time because Rolon didn't know shit about the investigation. Jed didn't think Ken was fucking anybody.

He groaned into his hands. Set his eyes on the monitor. This whole trip had him in knots. Téa had called him this a.m. and she was beat. In so many ways. But then it was clear it wasn't knocking boots with Rolon that had her bothered.

You saw him.

Yes. Oh Jed. I'm not sure what to do.

What happened, Moms?

We followed each other. First me doing the following… then him when I left the bar he was at with Rico. He was behind me. I expected his hate, you know? I did. But then… he... he did something much worse than show he wanted to kill me. He cried. He left me and just cried... I did not expect sorrow, Jed… it is unprecedented. I am sick.

Un-fucking-precedented. Aww… Pops. Jed could deal with him being angry as hell, could handle his monster hate, but his bottomless-pit sadness was a whole other thing. Nothing got to Jed like his dad showing the hurt. But then he really wanted to ask… hey, think Blanco will be less sorrowful if he knows you sleepin' with his best friend in MK? Moms? Whatcha think? Was shooting him not enough?

SHIT. He hated when he saw flashes of his Moms' very own brand of crazy.

Jed got up and sat in front of the monitor. Looked at the black a while. He didn't fault Téa for any of it. Life with Todd Manning made a person crazy. Try all you might and at the end of the day, you still got infected. He sighed and then turned the monitor on. His stomach flipped at the thumbnails. Pages and pages of the same dark haired boy. Horrible. There were tons of videos, too. One was open, mid-play. Must have been what Ken was watching, headphones still attached. Jed clicked on it. Jed's stomach lurched at the scene and he smacked the monitor back off. He groaned and rubbed his eyes. Wished like hell he could unsee that shit. It was… terrifying. That wasn't just porn. His heart raced. Holy shit.

The door soon opened and Ken shook his head at seeing Jed at the desk chair, seeing his blanched face. He had a coke bottle in his hand, another one for Jed. "You looked."

"What the hell WAS that?"

"The darkest side of child porn..."

"You think Caro still does that?"

"Don't know. Caro is a trafficker. He finds kids, sells some off, but keeps his own stable, for lack of a better word, for the prostitution, media work. We got him on the porn distribution, on the hosting of pedophile tourists. Don't know how involved Caro was with that kind of film though. Or Moreno. Don't know if Caro still keeps kids or just does match-making. Your… dad… was trying to figure that out. Said he's seen where the kids were filmed but didn't see any kids."

They were quiet, sucking down the sodas. Jed sighed, "That was definitely Rico in that video... how's he any kind of sane, dude?"

"Survival's an amazing thing..." He paused, looked at the black monitor. "He's one of Caro's kids… like Alicia. You know, chances are he's an abductee. Might not even be Cuban."

"Shit."

A knock on the door drew them into the present. Téa. She gave the biggest hug to Jed, not wanting to let go of him. She smiled a little more, patting his cheeks like an old mother hen. Met Ken for the first time. Took him in. Knew he'd been in prison with Todd. She got that critical eye on him. Made small talk. Then walked to the windows, gazing on the boulevard. Eyes full of bottomless-pit sadness, too. She put her bag down on the bed, sitting at the edge. Bouncing a little as if testing it out.

"Nice," she said. "Better than mine. Feds are paying for this? Big room."

Jed looked at her like she sprouted horns. See? Crazy.

Ken nodded, amused. "Yup, this is what working for the U.S. of A. gets us."

"How much should we share with Rolon? Can we use him in dealing with Todd?"

Ken showed a shitload of shock. "Whoa, you mean bring him in? How fuckin' much do we trust him?"

She obviously trusts him a lot, Jed thought. So very much trust. He groaned aloud. Téa turned to him. "I think he's very trustworthy. He's very loyal to Todd…"

"Is he, Moms? Loyal? To my dad?"

"Yes, Jed," she said, eying him impatiently before ignoring his cryptic sarcasm.

"He tried to kill dad, remember?!"

"So did I, Jed."

Jed shut his mouth.

"He's horrified by the child pornography angle," she continued. "He's…anxious to do something."

Ken glanced at Jed then Téa, asking, "How long has he known about it?"

Téa's eyes were full, weighted. "Since yesterday," she said. Proceeded to tell Ken the events of the day, what Rolon told her, what he knew of the ring.

Ken whistled. "Interesting."

She took a deep breath, "Oh there's more. Apparently Manuel Caro…" She held her hand out for Jed's coke. He scrambled and gave it to her. She drank it down. And her face crinkled, sadness there, finally saying quickly as if she was reading a legal document, "Manuel Caro raped Todd when he was twelve years old. There were… repeat performances. Todd had been sold to Caro by Peter Manning."

Jed shot up to his feet, falling against the desk and croaking, "GodDAMN."

Téa looked at Jed, her eyes moistening. "I'm sorry. I wasn't going to say anything, but you're an adult and part of this." He just shook his head, closed his eyes. "You need to know what's under your father's unraveling. Besides me, that is."

Ken eyed Jed, remembering he had mentioned Todd being severely abused. This was horrible… and dangerous. And obviously par for the course. He cleared his throat. "Caro's connection with Manning isn't in any report. Juarez wouldn't have allowed him to do this."

"Todd didn't know. This is… new. Suppressed memories, most likely. Dealing with Caro… loosened them."

"Well, there goes Todd cooperating with the feds... with regard to Caro." He had already known Todd had back-stepped on turning Moreno in.

"Bingo. He wants to kill Caro and Pedro rather than turn them over to anyone. Rolon said Todd was seconds from pulling the trigger on Pedro. As in gun. So… we need to discuss what's going to happen with Operation Touchdown because Todd is going ... nuclear. And I can personally attest to his being… extremely unhinged." Her eyes wetted just slightly and she lifted her chin, working the dignity.

Ken rubbed his chin thoughtfully, "Okay. Let me have a chat with Juarez. We've got Cuba's authorities on board now and they're very anxious to make arrests. But now we've got to make deals. Who's the policia gonna arrest? Who's going down? We also have Canada on board and a bunch of other national forces. Everybody's waiting on Juarez… me… and Manning. We HAVE to get him in here. We HAVE to talk to him. He has shit he hasn't turned over yet."

Téa said quietly, "Problem is, he's not very talkative. Or very sane. Or sober. Or in any way in a mental space to think clearly. I certainly have no sway with him." She swallowed hard. Sighing sadly. Not wanting to think about it very much. "So maybe Rolon is the way in?"

Ken looked at his two guests, both deeply upset. "I could have him arrested."

They both said, "No!"

Tea shook her head, "Too much legal fallout that I'm not sure would be manageable."

"Rico is the way in," Jed said, his suggestion like a sudden light in a dark cave. "He's the only one who has my dad's limited respect and patience right now. Whatever sanity he has, he seems to reserve for Rico."

Téa couldn't disagree with that. He'd been very submissive for lack of a better word last night as they walked to the bar. She nodded. "Yeah, you're right. He'll do the translating."

Ken agreed. Studied Téa a moment, glancing at Jed. His expression was pretty plain...Did she know about Rico's relationship with her husband? The room got hugely awkward all of a sudden and Jed decided maybe he'd leave the Rico chat to Ken.

He said, "Okay, you know, I gotta get air. I'ma leave… Moms, you haven't really met Ken so you all talk. Get familiar. Get him to tell you how Pops tortured him with lit cigarettes. My brain… is out."

Téa flinched at the door slam. Ked smiled and threw the shit out there that needed to be thrown… "Cigarette story will have to wait. First thing is that Rico is Todd's lover. You aware of that?"

"Yes."

"You're taking it well."

She smiled sadly, "Todd gravitates to damaged people when he's in a bad way. Just because it's a man this time makes no difference." She paused, thoughtful.

"Ah. You been through something similar before."

"Yes. You have lit cigarettes, I have Brandy. He's still broken. Untreated for serious mental illness. And if you're worried about me being… jealous and bringing drama with regard to Rico, don't be. He's just as broken, so any contact with him will be with kid gloves. They both need understanding, not bullshit. So how do we get to Todd… and Rico?"

"Let's try Rolon."


Todd felt the heat of the sun, saw light in the black of his eyes, and popped his head up. Sheets low, belly to the bed. Arm across Rico. Neither had a stitch of clothes on. He felt the chain around his neck. He took a moment, orienting himself. Not the beachhouse. Not Raquel's paladar. The other place. He whimpered under his breath. His hand hurt, his arm. Goddamn needles. Felt nauseous and his bowels twisted. A knife dug into his head. Goddamn heroin. He licked his lips, saliva slow in coming. He groaned, shifting his body away from Rico and drawing his knees up, The craving was hitting him bad. He hated this part: the constant need for more. He considered the works on the dresser, the steps he'd have to take to dose up, the pinch and the blood...the feeling that would come…

He rubbed his face on the sheets, the softness of them making him think of Téa. A fuckin' kick in the balls. The hell was she doing here?

I am here to save you.

Too late, my righteous killer.

Fuck it. He eased off the bed, grabbed the little bag off the dresser and eased himself into the corner of the room. Spent a long time prepping, eyes on dead-to-the-world Rico. Not wanting to wake him because he needed the heavy sleep. The sight of the bubbling tar in the spoon made his mouth wet and he huffed a little. He raised the needle to the light once he sucked up the liquid into the syringe barrel. Black tar wasn't his thing… fucked up the veins and syringes faster than powder. Raquel had it because it was cheap. He used the thick vein at the top of his hand. Didn't need to tie himself off. He stuck himself, saw the blood in the barrel… like riding a bike, still knew how to do it... always will...and then pressed down slowly, slow as he could make it. The dope rolled into his body. When it was all in, an easy rush of nothingness exploded like fireworks without sound. Crinkling in the black, sprinkling down inside of him. He grunted softly, his mouth open and throat closing at his own volition. Blood he knew oozed on his hand.

Every hideous picture that would not stop bashing the inside of his skull began to recede into the bright pouring in from outside. He felt the plaster behind him, cool and safe. He rolled the sharp in his fingers a little, watched it fall to the floor as his limbs lost a basic will to do what he wanted. Blood slid off his hand. His eyes narrowed, the edges of his visual plane blackening. Better, he thought, better. All the soreness disappeared. Téa disappeared. Caro and Peter disappeared. Elon and the house and child porn Skype disappeared. Jed disappeared.

Relief.

He watched the sky's clouds float across the blue, thinking of nothing, hearing nothing but whispers of peacefulness. His breathing lessened and he remembered vaguely that a little more would let him not breathe. Be in a place where breathing just didn't matter. Where it became optional.

It was in that space that he eventually crawled to the bed and lay once again next to his mari. Saw that he breathed unevenly, his eyes beneath his lids moving fast, his body twitching. Todd bet the fuckin' world this was Caro in his head. Fuck. He ran fingers down his belly… flat, skin tight on his muscles. No soft layer like a woman. Continued his light touch all the way down. All so fucking different than...

No, no, no, no... go home, Téa, go home...

Eyes on Rico again, twitching. Eyes moving back and forth. He was dreaming and deep inside, from far away, Todd knew this was a bad thing.

Put his head close to Rico's. Said, "Hey… hey, wake up." He shook him a little, non-committed to the shake because his high made him not feel anything, but Rico wasn't having it. Instead, he started to fight, making tight fists, his breathing faster, harder. Todd backed off a little, trying to grab those swinging arms, strong arms, real strength that Todd knew kinda well. "Rico…," he grunted, finally grabbing him firmly and bringing him up against his chest, holding him from behind, tight, tight, holding his arms, crossing them.

"Wake up," he murmured into his ear, "It's just a dream... Rico... shit, shit."

Rico was fighting hard with his whole body and whoever he was fighting had a solid grip on his mind. So solid, Todd found himself digging his heels into the mattress to keep hold of Rico so he wouldn't hurt him or himself. When Todd thought he'd just roll away and let the kid battle it out, Rico woke up, the fight suddenly ending.

Breathing hard, eyes bounced everywhere, he craned his neck back against Todd and burst into hard, wracking sobs, his normally deep melodic voice choked, strangled. Todd kept his hold on him, his head tight against Rico's, saying over and over, "It's okay…" Knowing it was useless. Dreams were real and there was no okay, never would be okay. After a good three or four minutes, Rico finally quieted and gasped quietly and just stared out the window. Stared at nothing as his breathing normalized. Todd didn't let go of him, wouldn't let go. He knew too intimately the importance of it.

After a long while, Todd resting against the pillows, drifting once again, Rico cleared his throat. Turned a little. Whispered, "Una pesadilla."

A nightmare.

Todd mumbled, "Caro?"

Didn't answer. Rico turned more, seeing his lion in a full heroin high. He got angry. In Spanish, he hissed, "I need to piss."

Todd let go easily, letting his head loll back. A bus honking outside got his attention and when he opened his eyes more, he saw Rico. He stood in the light, naked as the day he was born. Eyes back on Todd, a fierce look on his face. For a guy, Rico was… really… fucking… beautiful. His muscles were defined, nothing to sneeze at, chest, abs, legs, arms… yeah. Even THAT was good-looking, yeah? Like a statue in a museum. Rationality broke through his high. That was an American thing. Circumcision. Unusual for a Cuban national. Todd got a bit squeamish at his alien observation. What was he doing? What was this? He looked at his own fucked-up body. Heard Rico again.

"You used the needle again. You are supposed to wait."

Rubbing his face, Todd fell back on the pillows. Hand up, watching it as it turned. Studied the veins. Eyed the map down his arm into the scars and color. Hand falling back to earth. He lay there, body spread. Staring blankly. The crazy floated just beyond where he could see it or hear it. Or anything else for that matter. What was Rico's dream about, he wondered as his own played in the distance. Watched shit unfold like a children's pop-up book. The only way to look at it, from this far. He saw her, too.

Téa bent to look at him and he knew she was a ghost. He reached for her and touched the damage on her neck he did. He wanted to kill her last night. The bones would have broken easily and she seemed to know that, there against the brick. The fuck was she doing here? Oh yeah. Saving him. He moaned softly into the air. The bullet wounds fired up, but just an echo of them.

Her perfume had been haunting him all the way to the bar. Thought the heroin maybe played with his mind. But then he saw her sitting at the bar. He might not have recognized her. Hair hanging loose, body wrapped up in some grey coat he'd never seen before. But she turned towards him and he saw her face. He turned away, hoping she hadn't noticed he'd seen her. The sight electrified him, a real physical shock. Everything inside of him turned upside down and when she got up to leave, he got up. Rico had called him but Todd couldn't respond, just following her like a drone on remote.

Why are you here. Why did you come.

To save you.

It's too late to save me, mí amor.

He had no idea how long he'd been lying like that on the bed. He felt it move with Rico's weight. An ice cube on his lips. "You need to drink, mí león," he heard. Eyes fluttered open, the late afternoon here already. Rico smelled good again. Showered, jeans only. Hair hanging damp. He licked the melting ice cube on his lips. The high had faded somewhat, leaving him quiet inside.

"What did you dream about, mari?"

Rico's eyes glazed at the question, licking the ice and then putting it again on Todd's lips. The water ran into his beard. He stuck out his tongue again, his hand pressing Rico's hand. Pressing the ice into his mouth, further.

"Tell me," he whispered.

Rico ran the ice cube down Todd's chest, circling his nipples. "A movie. I was in it." Todd sucked in his stomach at the cold ice on his belly, a sensitive spot. Eyes on Rico's. Haunted eyes. He knew they both had the same cursed look.

"A movie for Caro?"

"I don't know. I was borrowed for the day. Caro told me I would be back at night but he and I would get a lot of money for my work. I wanted to buy a toy, a plastic camera? Not a camera but it had pictures in it you could see of the United States. Click, New York. Click. Hollywood." He pushed himself away from Todd, as if he couldn't talk and touch at the same time. He stared absently at the ink on Todd's chest and spoke like he was still in the dream. This wasn't just a dream. This… was his real hell.

"There was strange things in the house," Rico said. "Purple on the windows. Like paint. Chickens ran around. A cat. Men and women. I saw the camera going. A girl was tied to a table? She was older than me. In my dream she looks like the girl you saved. I was eight. I think." He held Todd's gaze. Quiet. He didn't blink. The ice cube had gotten small and he fed it into Todd's mouth. It disappeared fast.

"They made me do things with the girl on the table," he said. "It was difficult. I didn't know what they wanted. They screamed. Someone held me. They stabbed her. Había tanta sangre. They pushed her off the table. They all did things to me on the blood. I saw her open eyes. That is what I dream about. The blood. Do you know how slippery blood is?" He furrowed his brows. Said, "I never got my toy."

There was nothing to say. The hate was far away but it fired through heroin's haze and distance and lit him up like fucking Christmas. He so needed to kill Caro. And Pedro. Ohhhh….he groaned with the feel of it… Todd reached for Rico but he pulled away. Eyes dark and afraid. He shook his head.

"No, Blanco, I see it on you. I don't want them dead. I want the whole thing brought down."

"Jesus fucking CHRIST! We'll do BOTH. We'll kill them AND get all those other motherfuckers in jail!"

Rico just shook his head, still lost in his dream. Todd threw himself back on the pillows. "They made a snuff film with you in it. Jesus, Rico. It could have been you getting killed on that table. How many more films did Caro make like that? How many other kids did he fucking KILL?" He groaned quietly in his hands, his whole body shaking. Slammed eyes on Rico. An idea. He needed to work it out. An idea. Yeah. Yeah. He had an idea. He was shaking with breakthrough rage, a riptide beneath calm.

He kept his eyes on Rico. Could see he was all wrong in his head. As THERE as Todd had seen. Disconnected. Staring. Well, no fucking shit. Ladies talking beneath their window in Spanish kept them quiet. A bird landed right outside and they both watched the thing tap along the ledge before flying away.

Soon Rico murmured, "If I asked you to put the needle to me, would you?"

"Fuck no."

"Why?"

"It's dangerous," he answered, knowing the wild hypocrisy.

"And?"

"I don't want you dead. It's why I don't want you doing that shit you do with scarves or belts… or whatever."

Rico moved close to him, looking into his pinned eyes. "Do you know why I kiss your scars when we fuck?"

Todd got silent. Shook his head, the barest of movements.

"Because your body is sacred… and your history needs to be treated with respect and… love. I kiss the scars because I am telling the gods that you are better than what they gave you. I always want you to feel safe, to know I would not hurt you." Rico raised a hand and put it on Todd's cheek, holding it there. He kissed him. Soft, gentle…"You do the same to me," he said. "You touch me carefully. I saw how hard it was to choke me." He chuckled, his face profoundly sad, though. "I know you liked it at some point and I can see you are thinking about that now, but… it was not easy to begin. Why is it hard to hurt me? You did it easily to Gloria… but…with me, it is very different. Why?"

Todd was entranced, his eyes on Rico's. He had no answer. He knew it was true. He shrugged. "I don't know. I can't."

"I think… you see yourself in me. We are both men. We have experiences that are the same. You do not want me to think you are Caro. Because you cannot BE THAT… because if you are THAT, then you are experiencing it again. With women, you don't think of Caro. With a man, you do. Being Caro yesterday hurt so much. We both were raped again. So… if I am you… and you are me… and heroin is so dangerous, then how can you shoot up? It hurts me."

Todd was quiet for a long minute, trying to wrap his drug-infused mind around Rico's serpentine argument. He understood that shooting heroin into himself… was like shooting it into Rico and he just got done saying he'd never do it. Yeah, whatever. All he got was hopelessness. "Mari… I cannot see those pictures in my head, I cannot feel this crazy… I will hurt somebody. I will hurt myself. Without the dope, I think I will die."

"You will not die without it. Your whole family is here, your son... and your wife. She is here for you." Rico's eyes watered and Todd suddenly understood what was wrong with him last night… Rico had seen Téa... and suddenly Rico wrapped his arms around his lion, whispering, "You will not die without the heroin. You will hurt… but you will not die. I won't let you. I know how to... not die when terrible things are in front of me."

Rico kissed Todd's neck where the bite still burned, he kissed his lips, his eyes, he kissed his chest, his stomach, back up to his shoulder, his mouth again. He said, "You will not die." He kissed him hard, holding his head tight in his hands. "You will not die… you will not die."

The pain blossomed wildly inside of Todd, deep and real and all-consuming, cutting right through the heroin. He tipped his head back against the cool of the sheets, gasping at the boundless hurt. Through it he heard Téa's sorry, heard his own sorry to everyone he came across, and Pedro's sorry, the ridiculousness of the word. The stupidity. Its profound emptiness. There was no sorry possible for all the shit that happened before. To both of them.

Rico climbed on him, strong hands on him, warm lips to skin, overpowering him, consuming him.

A kind of love.

To add to all the other kinds of love floating next to the crazy. From the love of his children opening their eyes in the morning to his, to the love of Téa when it was good and real and safe, to the blind mad love of Brandy, to Pedro's corrupted fatherly love, to the love of his MK family, to his doctor's love and Viki's, to the strange desperate love of Jackson… and Kenny… and this.

Fucking… shit.

He grabbed Rico and kissed him back, rolling over him, doing his own consumption. He yanked the jeans down and off and touched him all over, touching, touching. Giving the heat right back. Kissing the scars that didn't show on Rico's skin. He pressed a hand on his ass to squeeze him up against his body, to get as close as he could get, needing to get closer, treating him gently, respectfully…

...losing himself in it.

...forgetting everything in it.

Trying so hard to get Rico to forget.

Not dying.

Except... as he moved with Rico in the afternoon's fading light, as they breathed hard in the chilled air, as his high further loosened its grip on his brain, an answer came to him on the problem with LOVE.

He didn't trust it anymore. It had turned on him in the form of two bullets. Missed his heart by centimeters. He had the foggiest memory of RJ on him on the kitchen floor, eyes right on RJ's. He was dying and remembered looking at those brown eyes and understanding that RJ was trying desperately to save his life and that Téa would probably marry him after but that… RJ maybe should rethink that shit.

She'll kill you too, buddy.

He was pretty sure that's when he coughed his lungs out and those brown eyes shut from all the blood on his face. All went black. Yeah, she killed him, sure as shit.

Love killed him.

Heroin though, was a whole different matter. He trusted heroin. He knew exactly how far she'd go, how hard he could push her. He knew that no matter what he was doing with his life, heroin would welcome him with open arms. He knew what would happen when he took her in. The ups… the downs… and of course, he knew how he'd feel when he left her.

Yeah… he trusted heroin… infinitely.

He held Rico and watched him move, slow and agonizing. They would not let go. Holding each other's intense gaze, just the same as their mashed bodies and limbs. Neither wanted to come yet. Like the end would throw them into hell again and they didn't want to go there but then they couldn't hold out any more and the end just took them. What else could they do, yeah?

The end always comes.


Outside the bedroom door in the casita, Rolon was about to knock because Téa asked him to. Talk to him, she said. Help him understand that the best move is to turn Caro and Moreno over to the authorities. Let's bring in the cavalry to tear down the pornography ring. Take your upset, Rolon, and do something with it other than more heartache, more death. Talk to him with kid gloves. He is fragile, he is barely hanging on.

Yeah, she didn't have to tell HIM that. Yesterday wrecked him. Got drunk with Jedediah and then went to the hotel to a destroyed Téa. The Mad King sprawled in the background of everything. Larger than life. They ended up in bed all night. He was driven to comfort her… and it was fucking with his head. He was sorrowful for his friend, but then hated him for punishing Téa for what she did. He deserved those goddamn bullets. Come on! Get real! Yeah… Rolon walked a razor's edge in between worlds these days.

He was about to knock, but then… he heard something. He leaned forward, put an ear to the door… and jumped the hell back.

"Madre de dios!" he huffed, hitting the wall behind him. "Oh shit, oh shit, Blanco, you maricon son of a bitch." That FUCKER… punishing Téa, then THIS? No, no, no. He shook with total stomach-grinding upset. He turned at hearing laughter.

Raquel cackled down the hall, a hearty laugh at the macho man at Blanco's door. She was kicking back on a chair by an open window, cigarette in her hand. Blowing white smoke out into the breeze.

"Are they making love, soldier?"

Rolon growled, "Is that what you call it, old woman?"

She laughed again. She had come to la casa because her cousin, Sylvia, called her, worried that the men were not responding to knocks on the door. Heroin was tricky medicine especially if being used by a long-time junkie. She'd peeked inside the room using the skeleton key. They were sleeping, normal. Blanco paid in American dollars for the whole house. No other guests so the whole house seemed asleep.

Rico had been on his back, arms flung upwards, face to the window. Blanco was next to him on his belly, an arm across Rico's chest, head tucked low beneath Rico's arm. Feet off the bottom of the bed. The blankets were low, the two completely undressed. She never pegged Blanco for being like Rico. At all. He had a woman in his life. One who he very much loved, who rather caused him terrible grief. He never told her directly but little things he said made it very clear. The woman was either dead… or missing… or had rejected him.

Whatever happened, the break was serious enough to drive him to a more primal connection. She worried though for Rico. He'd never had any relationship before and she did not believe Blanco would stay with the boy. Decided to wait a while to have a chat on his heroin use. When Rico emerged first instead of Blanco, she thought to talk to him, but he just walked past her, dreamy, a dark expression, jeans in hand, a loose towel around his narrow hips. Like a ghost. She left him alone, more sure on staying.

"Stop the mockery," Rolon grumbled, heading towards her.

She smiled, then didn't. "Who is mocking? Your friend's life is being saved. For today. Be thankful for every breath they both take."

"Well, they're taking a lot of breaths in there, that's for sure. Coño!"

He knew there was no coincidence in her use of Todd's own words to Pedro: be thankful for every breath you take. She had most likely heard everything at the clinic, and most likely understood a lot more English than she let on. He sat on a chair next to Raquel. She handed him a cigarette and he declined.

She said, "But it might be a while."

He groaned and she laughed quietly. He took the cigarette. Shook his head. Lighting up.

"How did you find him here?"

"Your people are easily bribed, mama."

"Are they?"

She smiled, puffing thoughtfully, and he realized he'd been sent here. Expected to come. Jesus he was a chump. Fooled into giving up money. He grumbled, Raquel's words hitting home though. He had come to Cuba to save his friend. He brought Tea to help do that. But yesterday proved the task would not be easy. Today proved it. No, it was going to be downright harrowing. With one thin string keeping his friend on this side of death's door: a goddamn male whore.

Shit.


Rico sat on the bed, Todd's arm on his lap. He carefully traced the old track marks, the deep scars on his lion's forearms. The ink. They were both spent. Too much pain, truth, knowledge, and too much desperate heart-wrenching sex. Hungry, too. At least Rico was. Todd didn't eat when he was using.

"How long did you use needles?"

"Long enough to fuck up the rest of my life."

"Are you afraid of it?"

"Yes...but..." He shuddered, spying the works screaming on the dresser. He almost whimpered at the hold it had on him. Knowing in a few hours he'd be physically weeping to have it again. But he did feel resistance. There was only one thing at the bottom of the rabbit hole… and that was an assured death. What did Dr. Graham tell him? Heroin addiction is fatal… your prognosis is poor. But he needed it. He trusted it. How else was he going to deal with the crazy. Go home? Get in a hospital? The thought of Llanview made him want to cry. His children waited at his house's door and their faces tore at him. He pulled himself off the bed. Put his rain-washed jeans on from yesterday. Nothing underneath. Saw Rico suppress a grin and roll over onto his belly.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Fuck you, then."

"I like to see your shit, mí león." Muffled.

Todd looked down, saw the jeans rode low, hair visible. He shook his head, left it. Téa liked it, too. He felt the medal, his heart suddenly hurting. Fuck. Took a last view of Rico now lying across the messed up bed. Resisted a compulsion to throw himself on top of him. Shook himself of the insanity. Fuck. Yeah, that picture proved he'd lost his mind… entirely. He so needed to stay high.

He grabbed his bag, heading to the john. He opened the door and turned. The door swinging shut. Stopped in his tracks at seeing Rolon. Raquel casually looked, continued her smoke.

He slowly sauntered towards them, an ugly scowl on his mug. He dropped the bag. Hissed essentially, in Spanish, "The fuck you want?

"I wanted to talk sense into you," Rolon said, getting to his feet, slowly making his way to Todd. He was suddenly and keenly reminded of Téa's hurt. How Blanco had grabbed her by the throat and pushed her against the wall, no thought to her pregnancy. Kid gloves... out the window. "But I got here... and you were fucking the shit out of your plaything, so I'm fuckin' waiting here for you to finish and...How long it take you, bitch?!"

Todd suddenly laughed, a real hard laugh, eyes laughing too. "You were outside my door? Waiting for me to come?" They both knew at his last word… that he wasn't actually laughing. His tone shifted hard end-sentence to extreme pissed-off-ness. The Mad King was AWAKE and Rolon tried to backpedal.

"Look, Blanco-"

Todd got close, bit out, "You shoulda joined in...bitch. I'd have been happy to show you... how long it take to shoot my load into YOUR fuckin' mouth." He shoved Rolon hard. Hands like goddamn iron. Christ! He got pushed two, three more times, until Rolon finally pushed back, shouted, "ENOUGH! I get it! I'm sorry, hermano!"

Knew Rico was off limits. Beyond off limits. Téa said kid gloves. Shit. Kid gloves easily rolled off in the face of El Diablo Blanco, fragility easily forgotten. Blanco stood there glaring, breathing like a bull, still crazy as all get out. Rolon worked to calm himself, trying to pull on those gloves.

"I want to talk," Rolon said. "About everything. Yesterday. Tomorrow. I'm here to fix shit, to get you on your feet. I know things have been bad, that Téa-"

The rest of the sentence got cut off by Todd's hand on his throat, Rolon smashed hard against the wall, Todd hissing, "Don't... fucking... say her name."

Raquel eyed him. Ah. And there she is. La Mujer de Blanco. Téa.

Rolon had his hands on Todd's hard-as-nails arms, "Tranquilo, Blanco! I am not here to fight you or...." His friend was beyond wound up tight. He wasn't high enough, he wasn't fucked enough. Yeah, still wildly unhinged. Rolon sighed heavily, gentling his grip, wishing Blanco would gentle HIS grip. "Please...let's talk. Come on..."

After a moment of tense consideration, an unreadable look came over Todd. He leaned in a little, like he was resting. Head on Rolon, he breathed in the space, then let go, and not an easy… letting go. Rolon backed up a step, he had to. That was some major hate he was looking at.

"Hermano."

"I don't want to talk," Todd growled. "You need to go away."

"Why are you angry at me?"

"You are protecting Pedro." He looked too hard at Rolon, dark shadows in those light eyes. His breath was coming in heavy. Getting faster with every word. "Among other things."

"I am NOT protecting him... And what other things?"

Todd dropped down to his bag, opened it up. Rico came out the room, walking down the hall, jeans on, a hastily gotten t-shirt. He moved like a gazelle… and Raquel smiled at the sight of him. Todd turned to look at him, "Not now, mari."

"Talk to him. Hear what he has to say. I have a feeling he will say the same thing I do."

Todd turned back to Rolon, chuckled. When he stood up, that gun was in his hand. Raquel stood up. Rolon's eyes shot open.

"The hell…?"

"Why should I talk to him, mari? He has her perfume all over him. How do I talk to a man... who is fucking the woman who tried to kill me? Who is still my wife, who will always be MY WIFE."

Raquel tossed her cigarette. And there was the break so bad that it had driven such a man as Blanco so far away from home, to such a primal state that he would burrow in the body of such a man as Rico. Téa shot him, his wife. And now this? She then asked the stunned silent Rolon, "Aiii, soldier...what have you done?"

Rolon said low, "What are you talking about, Blanco?"

"She gets real wet when you fuck her from behind. Try THAT, bitch."

With no warning, Todd flipped the gun in his hand and using that weight, slammed Rolon into the tomorrow he wanted to talk about. One hit to the side of the head. Lights OUT. The hulking man fell like a stone on the fine hardwood floor of the quiet, quaint casita.

Raquel lit another cigarette. Rico winced at the sight of the fallen soldier. Todd hawked noisily and spit on Rolon's unresponsive face with a resounding, "Fuck you."

He picked up his bag and dropped the gun back inside. He pointed at Rico and through gritted teeth, rasped, "Explosives… that's what I want."

"Why?"

He hit his chest like the savage he was, a man with a plan, a man full of choking hate, "Retribution, Rico… fuckin' RETRIBUTION!"

Through slit blurred eyes, Rolon saw the Mad Mad King… and knew… he was going to set the world on fire.

THE END

To be continued in "Caged: Retribution"