Chapter 1

 

 

 

      Physical pain could be horrible. When it became absolute, Coronado had seen men confess, cry, beg for mercy, or say anything their tormentors wanted to hear. There was a point where stopping the pain was the only thing that mattered. 

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      A skilled man. A man without remorse could make that pain last for what probably seemed like an eternity. 

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      However, there was something worse, and it had taken Coronado years to learn. Emotional agony could drive a man insane. It could change him in ways he could never recover. 

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      You could break a man’s body. But if you broke his mind, his soul, you could let him live, and it served as a warning that would even scare the men that ran towards the boogeyman in the dark. Hell, it would scare the boogeyman. 

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      It had been almost six months since Coronado’s drug cartel suffered a crippling blow. For the past decade, among other places, he had funneled drugs through a small town called Pine Ridge in Ohio. During that time, the local sheriff on his payroll had safeguarded large shipments entering the town for distribution to large American cities on the East Coast and in the Midwest. 

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      At first, a chain of jewelry stores provided cover, and later Coronado added a dude ranch themed resort. The camouflage was perfect. Hide in plain sight. The drugs flowed in and out, and his profits grew. 

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      Then, a local Pine Ridge deputy. Not the D.E.A. Not a task force. A deputy had brought the whole thing down. In the process, he managed to help the dude ranch owners, who were his friends, escape prosecution. 

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      It caused Coronado to lose tens of millions. It was an embarrassment. Gave his rivals hope that he had slipped, leading to turf wars in Mexico with rival cartels. Wars that cost blood and money. 

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      During the last few months, he had considered putting a hit out the deputy many times. However, a bullet to the brain or a chainsaw to the neck was insufficient. He didn’t deserve a quick death. The deputy deserved a special punishment. He deserved pain. Not only physical pain. Emotional pain. The kind that would break a man inside. Leave him longing for a bullet. 

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      He wanted him to suffer. To be engulfed in a personal hell.

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      The retribution needed to be significant. Something fitting for a Greek tragedy. So, now that the chaos in Mexico was under control and he had reestablished himself, it was time to settle things with the deputy in America. He would learn about this deputy. Discover what he valued. What made his life worth living. When he dealt with Deputy Chris Morrison, he wanted to make sure it was a lesson that would live forever. Become what the Americans called an urban legend. So terrible that nobody wanted to believe it was true.

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      Still, in the chance that it was based in fact, no one would ever dare stand up to him again. 

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      Pushing a button on his phone, Coronado waited for Juan, his most trusted employee, to appear in the doorway, which only took a moment. “Do not underestimate Chris Morrison again. Find the right people for the job and put things into motion. Start with his family.”

  

    Juan hesitated in the doorway, and Coronado could tell he was considering his orders. Finally, Juan spoke. “Excuse me, sir. I believe Chris Morrison’s family is already dead.”

 

   Coronado stared at Juan. “Family is not restricted to blood. 

 

   “Make it a spectacle. 

    

   “Unleash hell.”  

 

Chapter 2

 

 

 

      Wasted time. Days. Months. Years. One bad decision had nearly cost Chris everything he ever wanted. Yet, somehow, by divine intervention, luck or fate, Angie was back in his life. 

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      Her blonde hair, smelling like strawberries from scented shampoo, had fallen over her right eye while she slept. She was crowding his side of the bed, which he didn’t mind, although he would tease her about it later. The comforter was pulled tight around her chin. Why, Chris would never know because somehow, her body generated more heat than a nuclear reactor when she was asleep. 

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      Regardless, here she was in bed, next to him. It was better than a dream. 

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      A decade ago, his rage had led him astray towards a path of vengeance that caused him to wander and suffer in solitude masked by meaningless affairs and empty whiskey bottles. Now, it was over, and they were back together. 

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      He closed his eyes and silently thanked God for helping them overcome the past. Then, he swore an oath that he would never be foolish enough to do anything to jeopardize their relationship again. She was more important than anything else, and he would spend the rest of his life proving it.