Night of the Assassin: Assassin Series Prequel, Russell Blake [good story books to read txt] 📗

big navy blue Ford Lobo crew-cab truck. There it sat, unchanged, next to the small Chevy econo-box Emilio had bought for Jasmine with his bonuses from Don Miguel.

He moved back onto the porch, and knocked again.

“Emilio. Jasmine. Please. Open the door. It’s me…I’m back…” he yelled.

From inside, he heard a faint rustling, and then Jasmine’s distinctive voice.

“Go away. There’s nothing for you here.”

“Jasmine. Please. Open the door. I need to talk to your father. It’s important,” he tried again.

“He’s dead. Everyone’s dead. Don Miguel, my father, his sister and his mother. There’s only me left now, and I don’t want to see you. Please. Just leave. Go now, and stay away,” Jasmine warned.

“Dead? How? How is that possible? What’s happened since I left? Tell me, Jasmine. Please. Just open the door. I don’t want to have this conversation through a slab of wood. I just travelled over a thousand miles to see you…please, Jasmine. I’m begging you. I need to see you.”

“No you don’t. You left without a word to anyone, and now death has come to the valley, and it’s only me left alive – and you. Do yourself a favor, and leave now, while you can,” Jasmine implored him.

“If you don’t open the door, I’ll break in. You know I can find a way. Jasmine, please. This has gone on long enough. Open the damned door so we can speak like adults. I need to know what happened…and I need your help,” he finished starkly.

The lock creaked and the door swung open. It was dark in the small living room, all the drapes pulled, he saw as Jasmine padded in bare feet to the chair in front of the television and sat. She was wearing a nightgown even though by that point it was noon. It was so dim that he could barely make her out.

“Can we turn on a light or open a window? I can’t see my own hand in front of me.”

“I…I’m comfortable with it like this. This is my house now, so I keep it the way I like. If you have a problem with it, leave,” Jasmine advised in a monotone.

What the hell was going on here? Even after two years, people didn’t change that much. What had happened?

“Jasmine. No problem. You want it dark, I like it dark. Can we start over? Tell me what happened to your father, Emilio. Please. Start at the beginning. I haven’t had any news since I left.”

“I see you have a uniform. Marines. Is that what happened to you? You ran away and joined the navy? That’s classic. A total cliché,” she exclaimed with a bitter laugh.

“It’s a little more complicated than that. But tell me about your father.”

Jasmine let out a long sigh, and sank further into the large, padded easy chair – one of Emilio’s few luxuries; a place he could relax at the end of a long, hard day and watch some television in peace.

“When you left, you got out just in time. Someone executed Don Miguel, as well as one of his lieutenants, either that same day or the day after. I don’t really remember now, so much happened so quickly. Anyway, nobody knew what to do, and it was chaos here. But word traveled fast, because before Don Miguel was in the ground, his rivals where fighting over how his empire would be divided up. It quickly escalated into the usual blood feud, and soon Culiacan’s streets were littered with the dead,” Jasmine explained.

“And your father?”

“One night, several trucks showed up at the house, and we heard gunfire. The main contender for the Don’s position, Armand Altamar, had decided to eliminate anyone who was still loyal to the Don, in a bid to seal his position as the new jefe for this region. He executed the few remaining staff at the house…and then he came for us. My father had several guns and he tried to defend us, and even killed three of Altamar’s henchmen, but in the end it was for nothing. There were too many of them, and they shot him to death, out in front of the porch…like a dog. He died there for no reason other than for loyalty to his new boss – which was you since the Don’s execution. He wasn’t even in the business. He just ran the horses, and raised you…” her voice trailed off.

“Jasmine, I’m so sorry. I…I don’t know what to say…”

“There’s nothing to say. After killing him, they broke down the door, dragged my grandmother and auntie outside and shot them in head.”

“Good God. I…thank God you escaped…”

“But I didn’t, don’t you see? I tried to shoot them but I was shaking too much, and my first shot missed. So then they came for me…and the rest…is history,” she said flatly.

“What happened, Jasmine. You can tell me.” He didn’t know how to react to the horrible story and was afraid to hear the rest but he couldn’t help himself.

“What happened? What happened? With nobody here to protect me, with you gone and my family killed? They took turns raping me, is what happened – over and over, for half the night. I passed out, and when I came to, they were raping me more. It went on for hours.”

“I…Jasmine. I know nothing I can say or do will make anything better. But I’ll find these men and punish them for what they did to you. They’ll pay, with interest added.”

“Just go. I don’t want your help. My life is over before it had a chance to really begin. It’s not your fault but I don’t want to see you ever again. You remind me of before…when I had hope…”

“Jasmine, listen to me. There’s still hope. I know what happened was horrible and will stay with you forever but there’s always hope. Always. I’ll make this right, or at least avenge your family and you,” the young man promised.

“No you won’t. And no, there’s no hope. Trust me. None.”

“There’s always hope,