Song: Meg & Dia - Monster (acoustic)

The highway ahead was a dark abyss. Very few people traversed the outskirt roads this late at night, save for tired workers heading home, people lost on vacation, delivery boys, the occasional ambulance, or...maybe online traveling journalists. The night and early morning hours had become Sean's favorite time to drive, too. Or at least it used to be, before tonight. A shudder ran down his spine with each passing car. He prayed whatever lights were behind or in front of them wouldn't start flashing. The boy leaned forward and concentrated on going the speed limit, staying alert. The adrenaline rush had certainly helped. So far, so good. Not that I know where we're going. I guess anywhere. Fuck it. Fifteen straight minutes passed in silence before Mindi finally spoke.

"So where are we headed?"

"I don't know," Sean shrugged. A hospital. She needs to go to the hospital. But he knew if he took her, they'd ask too many questions. Cops would show up. The feds would get involved. He'd go to jail, probably for the rest of his life. He'd never see Daniel again. Way to be selfish, dude. But Gilberto will be after us, anyway. A place to hide and figure shit out first would be nice. "You said your dad owns a condo in Mexico City, right?"

"Yeah," Mindi laid back, resting her head. "But that's a whole day from here."

"Actually...it's not," Sean sighed. "I'm sorry to tell you this. But we're in Mexico City now."

"Please tell me you're fucking kidding!" she freaked.

"I'm not."

"Jesus Christ Sean, what the fuck is going on?!"

"It's my fault," he choked. "Jesus, it's all my fault! Look, I'm not who you think I am, Mindi! I work with a cartel. And they kidnapped you, and drugged you, and-"

"Just pull the fuck over," she said. "Now!"

"I...can't..." But Mindi grabbed the wheel. "Stop!"

"Pull over!" she shouted. Sean relented and slowly pumped the brakes, passing a speed limit sign and several mile markers before finally grounding to a halt. Mindi ripped off her seatbelt and tore out of the car, running off down the side slope where she hunched over and vomited again. Sean followed, but stood clear at the edge of the highway, leaning against the car to wait for her.

"Shit, shit, shit!" he banged on the door and paced around, huffing. "FUCK!" It was all over now. Everything. Everything he ever wanted or worked for over the past eight months, gone. Either he'd get caught by the cops, or he'd get caught by Gilberto. It was only a matter of who found him first. I'd give anything to be back in America right now, getting hunted by the feds. At least there, there was only one enemy to worry about. But in Mexico, he was truly trapped. Anywhere he went, someone would be watching. And after learning about what Catalina could do, he had to wonder if all of his actions up until this point had been predicted. Maybe...freeing Mindi is what he wanted me to do? Okay, think Sean. Mindi was coming back over. She still looked angry.

"Get back in the car, Sean," she ordered.

"Mindi, listen, I-"

"Now."

Sean obeyed and walked around the front of the vehicle back to the driver's seat as the young girl took the passenger side and the two buckled back in. He resumed driving in silence, merging onto the highway once more. Back to the black abyss, back to the emptiness and hollow feelings, the glow of passing street lights, and all the thoughts that consumed. I murdered not two, but five men now. I have a body count. My name is one of the most wanted on both sides of the border, and I'm not even eighteen yet. Another ten minutes passed, then twenty. Soon enough, Mindi began to direct him as they drove past the suburban developments, then far into the city, where lights and traffic greeted them. She didn't want to go to a hospital, she said. She just wanted to go back to her condo. There, she would wait for her friends, and when the month was over, her dad would be back in town. But the more she directed Sean, the more he realized they weren't actually going anywhere.

"Okay," the boy sighed, making a left turn onto a one-way street. "We've been driving around for an hour now. I know you're just bullshitting me. Do you even have a condo?"

"Yes," she said. "I was just waiting."

"For what?"

"To see if you were going to murder me or something."

"Jesus, is that what you think? I saved your life back there!"

"Yeah? You're also the one who got me kidnapped, in case you forgot!"

"Believe me, I was trying to," Sean breathed.

"I recognize you now, by the way. You're that Sean Diaz kid, aren't you? The guy that killed that cop in Seattle."

Shit. He slammed on the brakes.

"I didn't fucking kill him!"

"Hmm," the girl smirked. "I knew it. Anyway...it's about 1:30am. You should definitely get me back to my condo now. And don't even think of speaking to me. It's better you don't."

"Fine...I'm sorry-"

"Save it," she muttered.

Sean shifted the car back into drive and continued on from the alley and back onto the main roads. Thoughts of fear and bewilderment entered his mind past every street, every light, and every oblivious cop car that crossed their path. Oddly enough, no one seemed to be following him. For several blocks, a member of the Polícia Federal trailed behind them, only to turn off onto a side street. And all the while, he kept glancing over at Mindi, wondering if she was okay, wondering how much she'd heard about him, why she didn't want to go to a hospital, why she wasn't perhaps in more distress. Who is her dad, anyway? How much power does she have? What's going to happen to me after all this, now that she's seen my face and knows who I am? But he didn't talk. She didn't want him to. And anyway, how could he?

He looked back at the speedometer. It was still hard to read things in kilometers, but they'd been going for at least fifty, maybe sixty miles around every angle of the city. Finally, they came upon the condominium, a large, high rise building with a fountain in the front courtyard. Mindi directed him over to a private parking garage. Once they found a spot, they exited the vehicle and she led him over to the main elevators. She glared at him for a moment as they waited for the ride, looking him up and down as she cradled her frail-looking body in the air-conditioned foyer. Right. Like I'm going to try anything. The elevator dinged and the doors opened. Sean immediately put his hood up upon entering in case there were any cameras watching them. Should have thought of this in the parking garage, dumbass. The doors closed and Mindi punched in her floor, even as she continued staring him down.

"Do you really have to do that?" he sighed.

"I'm just still surprised it's you. Sorry. I'm somewhere between star-struck and pissed off, if that makes sense."

"Star-struck?"

"This might sound weird, but you were kind of a celebrity in my house for awhile. My little sister wouldn't shut the hell up about you every time your face hit the news."

"Great," Sean rolled his one good eye. "Just what I need. An army of heartthrob fangirls."

"Relax. You're not getting in trouble. At least not any more than you already were. You saved me, right?"

"I'm sorry, was I not supposed to?"

Mindi sighed as the elevator dinged and the doors opened.

"That depends. On the one hand...yeah, you did the right thing, but-"

"I got you kidnapped, is that it?"

"No. I was actually going to say...you might really hate me after tonight."

"You want to turn me in? Go ahead. I've got nothing else to fight for anyway."

"Well...we'll see."

The pair continued down a long, lavish corridor filled with various paintings and plants alongside gold trimmed accents, illuminated by small chandeliers overhead. The red carpet beneath them seemed unnecessary, given the beautiful, perfectly polished marble floor. Sean's heart was thudding in his chest as they made their way to the penthouse at the end of the hall. A feeling of dread overcame him. You'll see? What the hell am I walking into? Mindi turned and glanced at the boy as she punched in the door code and a sliver of light flashed green. She looked sad, almost sorry. She's not the one who needs to be. None of this was her fault. Something else was going on. It had to be.

Sean followed her through the door of the penthouse and closed it behind them. Before them stood a sprawling suite with a ritzy, minimalist layout. An electric fireplace burned bright orange across the right of the living room, which had a sunken area surrounded by couches in front of a long glass table. Directly in front of him was the dining area, with large windows overlooking the bright city below. An assortment of black bookcases lined the left rear of the room, serving a dual purpose as a barrier for a gaming room on the other side. As he walked through to the dining area, he saw a kitchen on the other side. Over to the far right stood a narrow hallway that led over to a corner office. Mindi stopped him before he could follow.

"Wait out here, okay? I'll just be a minute."

"Uh...okay."

The boy sighed and turned toward the window, uncertain. For several minutes, he paced back and forth as he waited and watched, waited and watched. He checked the time on a large clock above the fireplace. 1:55am. Two hours since I killed those guys at the hotel. He wondered what might be going on at the crime scene. They definitely knew he'd stolen the car by now. They had to. Investigators were probably taking snapshots of the entire room. Laying tape around Jorgé and the others, collecting blood and hair samples. Bagging and tagging evidence. Lifting fingerprints. Examining bullet holes and gunshot wounds. Checking the clips. Going through his phone. They'll definitely see I called the Reynolds. Then the FBI will be on my ass. Then they'll extradite me. Sean took a seat at the dining room table and held his face in his hands. There would be no getting out of this now. No way.

He thought about Daniel, and if any of this would get back to him. What would he think of his big brother if he could see him now? You were never the monster. I was, for ever forcing you to come with me. All the times I left you alone to find work or food, all the times I was ever nasty to you, all the times I didn't let you be the person you were growing into. I just wish I could tell him I don't blame him for leaving me. I wish I could tell him how sorry I am. He deserves that on his birthday. So does Claire. So does Stephen. So does Chris, after I tore them apart. Then again, he wondered if any of it would bother them as much as where he was now—a member of a Mexican drug cartel, murdering people, kidnapping helpless victims, selling them into sex slavery. He'd rather die than have any of his family find out. He just hoped that one day, this would all be over, that he could see Daniel and Karen again. That one day...

Mindi finally emerged from the hallway in a beautiful black cocktail dress with slivers of red sequins and swirling lines that wrapped from the chest around the back and over again, accentuating her perfect figure. Her hair was styled in the same way it had been a week and half ago, when they'd first met at Club Saturno. Her makeup was similar, though with subtle smoky eye shadow and a darker shade of red lipstick. Sean approached her and looked over her pale face in the light. The black eye and swelling she'd had seemed to be completely gone, along with any signs of bruising on her arms, over her chest, or around her legs. She looked perfect. Smooth. Undamaged. Untouched. Like nothing whatsoever had happened to her. Like she hadn't just suffered through a week and a half of being assaulted. And in her hands, she clutched a large black cloth bag, weighed down by something.

"What the...fuck?" Sean breathed, looking her over.

"Congratulations," the girl smiled. "You passed the test."

"No...no way." He backed away in disbelief. "No fucking WAY!"

"Told you you'd hate me. But we all have our parts to play, right?"

"That's BULLSHIT!"

"Sean...I had to know I could trust you until we got to the door. Plus my dad's got debts to pay off. So take it. Half goes to you, the other half to the cartel."

"Oh fuck this!" he snapped, smacking the bag out of her hand. Stacks of hundreds fell across the floor. "This is why you had me drive around, wasn't it?"

"There was a drop-off in our safe at 1:30. Yeah."

"But I saved you! I thought I-"

"You did, Sean. Just not in the way you think. And you were right. Snatching up a high-profile, pseudo-heiress like me? Not the best idea. But my family plays a little...dirty. Jorgé worked for us as much as he worked for the cartel. They'll be glad he's not a problem anymore. Frankly, so are we. He helped us fuck them out of a few million in real estate," she smirked. "Then we caught him pocketing some of our money, too. So my dad's been selling shares and liquidating assets to pay things off. Just another...million or so that needs to go to some other unsavory characters overseas."

"Whoa," Sean caught his breath. "Guess we're all slaves to someone, huh?"

"Except you."

"What?"

"That money," she said, looking at the bag. "It's your freedom."

"You said half is for me, half is for the cartel..."

"Yeah. The half that goes to the cartel is enough to pay for our debts, plus your severance. And the other?" she shrugged. "Build yourself a new life, Sean Diaz. You've earned it."

"I'm still lost."

"Gilberto wasn't going to get his hands on me, no matter how hard he tried. And Jorgé couldn't be trusted because he caught him working for us. So we let him kidnap me to fool them both. That way, Gilberto would think he won, and Jorgé would believe he could ask for my ransom."

"You manipulated me into killing Jorgé?! That's messed up! And what about you being sold out?"

"He plied me with some low-dose sedatives. Our other guys in the room took care of me, threw some horror makeup on, and refunded whatever clients came in through Jorgé. The rest, I had to sell to you both with my acting skills. Finally got to use all my classes for something...sorry. But let's be real Sean, he would've double-crossed you the first chance he got just to get back in Gilberto's good graces."

"So the hotel room...what happens to that? What happens to me?"

"Don't worry, my dad's got people scrubbing it as we speak. It'll be like you were never there. Like I said, you're free. And Gilberto will love you to death for getting my ransom and taking care of the traitor. Anyways, you want to shut up now and take the money? I've got a plane to catch and a British accent to practice. Have to disappear for awhile. The car you drove here is getting torched by the way, but there's a fresh-ass Mercedes the valet's bringing up with your name on it."

"Still doesn't explain how you knew I'd kill Jorgé."

"I didn't. But my dad would've had to pay my ransom either way. You just happened to make it a little easier on us. As for those henchmen of his, they were paid off from the beginning. Expendable, but hey, that's the 'cost of doing business,' as ole' Gilly likes to say. It was a pretty airtight plan."

"This is still a mindfuck," Sean sighed.

"What can I say? Life is pretty damn strange. For what it's worth, I hope we see each other again. You were my ticket out of here, and now I guess I'm yours. Sorry if I kinda wrecked your whole bad boy savior complex. I'm pretty good at taking care of myself. But hey, maybe when you're a legal boy, we can party it up in Berlin, or...wherever. Stay cute," she smiled and kissed his cheek, then headed for the door.

"Hey, uh...any chance you could maybe...smuggle me back to America?"

"Sorry, no can do. But you've got money now, right? Figure it out yourself. Besides, buying someone's way out of a cartel is hard enough. My suggestion though? Get yourself a bangin' beach house in Cancún! Spring break is the perfect time of year for it. Oh, and don't forget your Benz. Should be down there in like, five minutes. The door will lock when you leave. Adiós!"

"Thank you...so much. Have a safe flight," the boy waved.

"Welcome. See you around the galaxy."

Once the door had closed behind her, Sean gazed back at the fat stacks of hundreds, bewildered. What the hell just happened? But it didn't matter. Because somehow, through some miracle, he'd just struck gold. He ruffled through the bag for the next several minutes to be sure nothing was counterfeit. All of it was real. Every single bill. He found himself tearing up at the sight, thinking back on all his struggles over the past year. Getting screwed over by Merrill, having the shit kicked out of him so many times, all those months of scrounging and scraping and saving every penny. This felt like vindication. This was the due karma he was owed. Finally, he would be free. Not struggling, but actually...free. He smiled as he dreamed about that beach house in Cancún, and an old friend came to mind.

Hope you're still out there, Finn. I'll be waiting with your coconut cocktails.