For fuck's sake it was hot. Despite the container - which became her permanent cell - being indoors, the dry humidity was no laughing matter. Liv was roasting alive. She hadn't been inside for long; perhaps less than an hour, but she was miserable.
The outfit she still had on felt like an oversized blanket, blotched with dirt and blood. It smelled pungent, of sweat and mildew and to make matters worse the pants were chafing her inner thighs.
Carlos had taken her back to the container for a break, fetching her a bottle of water and a banana after hauling TVs from one side of the compound to the next; for whatever reason she wasn't sure. The pirates were unorthodox, and with Vaas as their leader, there was no telling what they were planning. Liv honestly didn't want to be a part of it, but she had no choice.
Since her confession, she hadn't seen much of Vaas around the compound, but she knew he was there because Carlos was taking orders from someone. Liv was eaten up in concern about his intentions with her. It sucked not knowing, but it was true that she was exhausted thinking about it. Her plan failed; she was tired of beating herself up about the what-ifs.
Just survive the day.
It's all she could hope for. That or a quick death. Whatever Vaas saw fit.
With an uneasy sigh, Liv wiped the sweat from her face onto a thin mildew-scented blanket that was given to her for the colder nights, then tossed it to the side. The humidity was driving her insane. She'd rather be outside where the possibility of a light breeze could reach her heated skin, not locked in a DIY sweatbox with holes drilled into it.
Groaning in annoyance, she stood and kicked her foot against the container wall, ignoring the thump it made as it echoed in her ears. Liv did not care if it seemed childish, she had enough. She kicked it a few more times before she heard the latch give and the door open.
Carlos stood in the doorway, staring at her in annoyance and disbelief.
"The fuck are you doing?"
"Honestly, I'm throwing a tantrum," Liv admitted.
No shit, Carlos thought. He groaned and clutched his gun. It would be easier to shoot her, but Vaas had not given the order. He honestly didn't know what to do with her anymore.
"Are you in charge of me?" Liv questioned.
He was, but that didn't mean that he wanted to be henpecked all day by her.
"What the fuck do you want? I'm busy."
She wanted a lot, to leave the island or to have a decent fucking shower, but she doubted that Carlos would let her have either.
"I want to work. Anything to get me out of this box."
His brow raised.
"You want to work?" For fuck's sake.
He motioned for her to follow him and led her outside, not certain what job to put her on. No one honestly wanted to be around her. The pirates who were native to the island thought that Liv was cursed; only misfortune followed her.
But Carlos knew better. In his opinion, she was just a driven woman who did not care how many bodies she left in her wake, even if she did not mean to kill anyone. And to make matters worse, Vaas seemed to be infatuated with her.
An idea came to mind and the pirate turned to her.
"Can you paint?" Carlos asked, motioning with his hand.
The motion was more like a paint can than a brush.
"Do you mean spray paint?" She asked. Once he nodded, she brought up her shoulders in uncertainty. "Not free-handed…but if there's a template, then it shouldn't be that hard. Point and squeeze, right?"
Carlos grunted. This was good enough for him. He ordered her to follow him and took her to the upper area where she brought the TVs. The door was closed and noises echoed behind it, but she paid them no mind as she saw the template laid out on the ground with several cans of white spray beside it. The design made her want to laugh. It was nothing more than an image of Vaas' face.
"Is there some tape I can work with and a step ladder?" Liv asked.
"Don't leave this fucking spot," Carlos ordered.
Where was she going to go? The water surrounding the island was infested with sharks and she was certain the pirates weren't dumb enough to leave their keys in the boats again. Liv sat down to show that she was not planning on making a run for it.
At least Carlos believed her. He was hesitant, but seeing the worn-out look in her blue eyes, he turned and went off in search of the items she asked for.
In the meantime, Liv sat with her legs pulled up to her chest and listened to the music around the compound. The current tune was catchy, something she would save to a playlist on her phone if she still had it. And while her skin was heated and sweaty, she could at least feel a gentle breeze now and then. For the first time in a while, she felt at peace.
It took Carlos a few minutes to find a step ladder and a roll of heavy-duty tape that wasn't being used. He returned shortly after to see that Liv was still there, reading the back of one of the spray cans. Relieved, he tossed the tape at her, earning a heated glare as she did not catch it.
"Here is your shit."
Liv stood with a grunt and slid her wrist through the opening in the tape roll then bent down to pick up the template. She did her best to determine the middle of the door, using the step ladder to hoist herself to the appropriate height. Once the template was attached - she honestly didn't care if it was straight or not - Liv walked down the ladder and picked up a can.
"Who even made this?" She asked in humor.
She opted not to ask why Vaas would even have a template of his face. It was a little obsessive.
"We might not look like it, but some of us can do more than point guns and kill," Carlos answered.
Liv supposed so. She had met pilots, amateur cameramen, and car enthusiasts. The list goes on. Hell, Vaas had leadership skills that no lunatic with a drug habit should have.
What a strange fucking world.
"How about you?"
"I have patience," Carlos retorted.
Liv took this as her sign to stop asking questions. She shook the spray can and then popped the top, stepping up onto the ladder to do her job, but before she was able to, Carlos stopped her with an order.
"For fuck sake," he continued. "Are you an idiota (idiot)?"
Liv gave him a heated glare over her shoulder. She knew the word this time. What more did he want from her?
Carlos reached into his back pocket and took out a red bandana, handing it to her.
"For your face."
What the fuck is this going to do?
Liv curled up her nose. It was soaked with sweat and smelled like a week-old asscrack. There was no way she was going to put this over her face.
"Thanks, OSHA, but even this won't keep the fumes out of my face. I'd need a respirator."
Carlos flipped her the bird and yanked his bandana from her hand.
As much as she wanted to comment about his odd behavior toward her, she didn't. Instead, she turned and began to work on filling the stencil. It took her a while to do since she did not have a proper mask, but once it was over, she took the stencil down and admired her work.
There was some overspray and paint bleed here and there, but overall, it looked good to Liv.
"Not bad, right?"
Carlos narrowed his eyes.
"It could look like shit and I still would not care."
Liv tsked at him and tossed the can onto the ground. Whatever. It was done at least.
The abrupt sound of cheers and lewd catcalls drew her attention to the courtyard where she witnessed two of the women on stage remove their shirts, letting their breasts free. Nudity did not bother her one bit, however, seeing Vaas, whom she had not seen since Barto's death, walk on stage and bring one of the two in close to him, turned her stomach.
What was wrong with her?
Liv curled her nose and averted her eyes, an action that did not go unnoticed by Carlos.
"You don't like tetas (tits)?" To draw her out a picture, he raised his hands to his chest.
"I don't have a problem with nudity," she admitted.
She learned quickly to appreciate the beauty of the human body when she graduated college; her first gig was a documentary on nudity in film and several of the models insisted on being completely nude for it. Despite her shyness, she grew to understand their views.
No, it wasn't that the women were topless. It was something she couldn't quite understand. Whatever it was, it made her sick. The look on Carlos' face, however, made her believe that he understood.
He snorted in disbelief.
"Are you fucking jealous?"
Liv scoffed in annoyance. He did not understand a damn thing.
"I have no reason to be jealous."
"You're right. You don't. Because the entire time you were fucking with el jefe (the boss), no? You got his guard down so you could make a run for it," Carlos stated.
Liv turned up her eyes in protest. He wasn't wrong but he also was missing a few details.
"I did get close to Vaas to find a way to escape…but I didn't have to sleep with him to do that, or share my past with him."
Carlos was honestly taken back for a moment.
"Are you serious?" He asked. "You wanted to fuck him?"
She gave him a heated look but all this did was make him laugh. Liv was not in the mood for this. She rubbed the bridge of her nose feeling a headache growing in the back of her head.
"¡Mierda (shit)! You are loca (crazy)," Carlos stated.
He heard the story about her father, but he had no idea the trauma it put on her. Liv was a hot mess before she ever came to the island, no wonder Vaas was so conflicted; she was just as damaged as he was. And to put a spin on it, she was chasing after him as opposed to him chasing after her. It was like a B-rated rom-com.
Once his laughter had subsided, he cleared his throat.
"So why run? You belong here."
"No, I don't," Liv argued. "And you know why. I'm losing my fucking mind and what's worse, the longer I'm here the more I'm coming to terms with it. I don't understand it."
Carlos snorted. That might be so, but a man's blood was already on her hands.
"Cualquiera puede convertirse en un monstruo."
Liv raised a brow.
"I don't speak fucking Spanish."
"Anyone can become a monster," he recited.
Liv shook her head. Whatever his meaning was, it was lost to her.
"Can you just take me back to my box?"
"Fuck no!" Carlos exclaimed. "There are fine women with their tetas (tits) out and I'm up here with you, having to sit with you through your denial. You wanted to work like a pirata (pirate), so you can join the fun too."
She seriously hated him. Liv tightened her jaw, wanting to kick him in the balls again. She didn't want to join in. The last thing she wanted to do was to be near Vaas.
But did she have a choice?
Carlos motioned for her to move and despite her reluctance, she walked back down to the courtyard with him. Sitting in a shaded area below where she was, she watched as her babysitter joined some of the pirates near the stage. The ones roaming around thankfully gave her a wide berth, refusing to walk near her. Liv didn't mind. She pulled up her legs and rested her forehead on her arms.
No sooner than she got relaxed, however, the sound of someone clearing their throat caught her attention. As she raised her head, a wad of cash struck her in the face. Liv didn't attempt to collect it, simply looking at Yada in defeat as he spat on the ground in front of her.
"You happy puta (bitch)? You got what was owed to you."
Did he mean the money Barto owed her? Liv held back a sob. No, she wasn't happy. But what could be done? Vaas gave her an extra life when she fucked up her first one. If only she hadn't been so dumb to believe Bambi and Jason.
Her teary eyes drifted over to Vaas for a moment, watching him take pictures of the topless woman and himself with her phone, and something in her broke.
Liv couldn't contain her tears any longer. She honestly didn't care who saw. Bowing her head, she sobbed.
As the night carried on, Carlos eventually escorted her back to her container. Liv said nothing to him and curled up on her makeshift bed, passing out from exhaustion.
That's why, when the scent of pot filled her nose, she thought it was a lucid dream. Until Vaas called her name.
Liv sat up in a start and glanced toward the entrance of the container, seeing that one of the doors was open. The man in question was sitting, illuminated by the moon. She could see a lit joint pressed between his lips as he motioned toward her.
What was he doing here?
"The end is nigh," Vaas declared with a snort.
Liv sat frozen as he continued, pausing a moment to take a hit of the joint.
"Come on, I won't bite. One last smoke for one last fucking night in mi reino (my kingdom)."
One last night? So this was it? Liv shook in fear, but despite her head telling her to say no, she stood and walked up to the entrance, sitting beside him. Once the joint was offered to her, she took it and took a hit.
"I killed a ghost," Vaas uttered. "I mean, what the fuck else could he be. I burned him alive, then Jason fucking Brody rose from the ashes and came after me again."
So he knew that Jason survived that.
Liv handed the joint back to him, blowing the smoke out through her nose. She had no words.
"Then I drown him, but he came back again, so I put a fucking bullet in his chest, but you know, I still do not think he's dead. Can you believe that?" Vaas paused to laugh. He brought his hand up and smacked it against his chest like a heartbeat. "But I feel it right fucking here. This feeling in my chest tells me that he is coming for me."
Turning his attention to Liv, he narrowed his eyes. She didn't even open her mouth. Seizing her wrist, Vaas put her trembling hand against his chest.
"Do you feel that?"
His heart was a bit fast but who knows what drugs he had taken before he sauntered in here. Liv shook her head. She tightened her jaw in unease as he leaned down and laid his head on her lap. Her heart was pounding so hard, she feared that he would hear it. What was he doing?
"He's coming, querida (darling). We are the same, he and I. It can only fucking end when one of us is truly dead."
Liv understood, if only just a little, what Carlos and Vaas were trying to say.
"It takes a monster…to kill a monster."
Vaas snorted, nuzzling his face into her thigh.
Whatever the outcome tomorrow, Liv knew that Vaas had to die. But if Jason failed, would she be able to finish where he started? She glanced down at the empty gun holster on his side and took an uneasy breath.
I have to.
Anyone could become a monster, even her.
