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Back Blood in the Water
Chapters (82)
  1. Title Page
  2. Copyright Notice
  3. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  4. ONE
  5. TWO
  6. THREE
  7. FOUR
  8. FIVE
  9. SIX
  10. SEVEN
  11. EIGHT
  12. NINE
  13. TEN
  14. ELEVEN
  15. TWELVE
  16. THIRTEEN
  17. FOURTEEN
  18. FIFTEEN
  19. SIXTEEN
  20. SEVENTEEN
  21. EIGHTEEN
  22. NINETEEN
  23. TWENTY
  24. TWENTY-ONE
  25. TWENTY-TWO
  26. TWENTY-THREE
  27. TWENTY-FOUR
  28. TWENTY-FIVE
  29. TWENTY-SIX
  30. TWENTY-SEVEN
  31. TWENTY-EIGHT
  32. TWENTY-NINE
  33. THIRTY
  34. THIRTY-ONE
  35. THIRTY-TWO
  36. THIRTY-THREE
  37. THIRTY-FOUR
  38. THIRTY-FIVE
  39. THIRTY-SIX
  40. THIRTY-SEVEN
  41. THIRTY-EIGHT
  42. THIRTY-NINE
  43. FORTY
  44. FORTY-ONE
  45. FORTY-TWO
  46. FORTY-THREE
  47. FORTY-FOUR
  48. FORTY-FIVE
  49. FORTY-SIX
  50. FORTY-SEVEN
  51. FORTY-EIGHT
  52. FORTY-NINE
  53. FIFTY
  54. FIFTY-ONE
  55. FIFTY-TWO
  56. FIFTY-THREE
  57. FIFTY-FOUR
  58. FIFTY-FIVE
  59. FIFTY-SIX
  60. FIFTY-SEVEN
  61. FIFTY-EIGHT
  62. FIFTY-NINE
  63. SIXTY
  64. SIXTY-ONE
  65. SIXTY-TWO
  66. SIXTY-THREE
  67. SIXTY-FOUR
  68. SIXTY-FIVE
  69. SIXTY-SIX
  70. SIXTY-SEVEN
  71. SIXTY-EIGHT
  72. SIXTY-NINE
  73. SEVENTY
  74. SEVENTY-ONE
  75. SEVENTY-TWO
  76. SEVENTY-THREE
  77. SEVENTY-FOUR
  78. SEVENTY-FIVE
  79. SEVENTY-SIX
  80. Praise for Blood in the Water
  81. ABOUT THE AUTHOR
  82. Newsletter Sign-up

She didn’t move, and gave no sign of consciousness, which angered him even more. He twisted in the bed and kicked out furiously at her. “Get out!” he screamed. “You fucking whore! Get out!” He kicked at her head and connected hard, sending her farther toward the side of the bed. She rolled over and opened her eyes. Her expression was one of resignation and acceptance, and he suspected that this was not the first time she had awoken to a beating. In all likelihood, it was more common than not in her experience. That reality made her even more repulsive to him, and he kicked her again, this time in her face, hoping to smash the expression into oblivion.

He connected well, and she tumbled off the bed and hit the wooden floor hard. She screamed out and crawled on her knees to the bedroom door, gathering up what few clothes she’d had on the night before when he picked her up.

“Get out, bitch!”

She reached the door and grasped for the knob. Blood was running down from her forehead and into her eyes, and it was making it difficult for her to see. Finally, she latched onto the knob, turned it, and fell into the hallway. He could hear her crying as she lay there, just outside the threshold.

“Close the fuckin’ door!” he yelled.

She used an elbow to slide the door closed.

The room was quieter now, and he could think. There was much to do today. He picked up the prepaid burner phone he had purchased the day before. He swapped phones out twice a week: always prepaid and anonymous, no internet access or smartphone functionality, and he only used the text function.

There was a text from one of Suarez’s local distributors to discuss the next batch of fentanyl he was due to deliver. The dealer wanted to meet late in the morning.

Suarez texted back a time and place, then swung his feet off the bed and onto the floor. The whore whom he’d kicked out of his bed had left a smear of blood on the bedroom wall, and he cursed her under his breath. He took two quick steps to the doorway and threw open the door to see whether she was still curled on the hallway floor, but the place was deserted.

He looked up and down the hallway, considering whether he should see if he could catch up with her to deliver another beating, but dismissed the idea after a moment. There was no point; it would not make him feel better for long, and it certainly wouldn’t impart any lesson that she would retain.