Ruin: The El Diablo Chronicles Read online

  Ruin: The El Diablo Chronicles

  Copyright © Autumn Sand 2019

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of Autumn Sand, except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act 1976.

  This is a work of fiction. All characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  For permission requests, write to the author, addressed “Attn: Permission Request,” at [email protected].

  Cover design by Pixel Mischief

  Edited by All About The Edits

  Proofread by Becky Hensley

  Interior Formatting by Under Cover Designs

  ISBN 978-0-9990456-0-2

  Contents

  Disclaimer

  Excerpt

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Epilogue

  A Letter from Autumn Sand

  Forbidden

  Door One

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Disclaimer

  Dear Reader,

  As the author of this book, I want to warn readers that there is child sexual assault in the subject matter. Though I do not necessarily go into the details of the abuse, it is implied. I do not in any way condone these acts nor do I glamorize them.

  As usual, I am using my books to shed more light on a vicious and heinous act and hopefully show a way to heal.

  Thank you,

  Autumn Sand

  I press redial on my phone for a fourth time, this time trying to reach Magnum, and once again, the call goes directly to voicemail. Damn it! I scream internally, as beads of sweat fall down my face.

  “Can’t you go faster?” I frantically shout at the driver, again ringing a number where I know what the result of the call will be.

  He shakes his head and turns around to look at me. “You see this traffic?”

  I look out of the window for the first time and notice the Fifth Avenue traffic jam, due to a United Nations general assembly.

  Damn it!

  “Fuck it, I’ll run,” I say, my hand already on the handle. I’m halfway out the door before he gets a chance to respond.

  After kicking off my heels, I run the five blocks to get to Pulse where my boss and friends work. I have to get there in time, so much depends on it. Pumping my legs faster, I move through the crowds of people during the summertime lunch rush.

  My heartbeat calms when I see Pulse within my sights. Ten more seconds. Nine, eight, I’m almost there.

  Five.

  Four.

  Three.

  Two.

  The explosion sends me flying backward and into a parked car. The pain in my back ricochets throughout my body, sending a blast of colors across my eyesight. I fight to keep consciousness, a battle I’m quickly losing. My ringing ears add to the confusion in my head. Passersby rush to my side, while others stand in shock at the decimated building. Still others tend to the dead and wounded.

  Before darkness descends upon me, I see what used to be Pulse, now a mound of rubble and also serving as my friends’ graves.

  My mother parks her old Buick Skylark in the church’s parking lot. The sound of the ancient engine putters to a stop and coughs out fumes from the exhaust. A shudder goes up my spine as the shadow of the ginormous church looms, tall and foreboding in front of us.

  “God doesn’t love you anymore.” My mother’s words the day of Daddy’s funeral echo in my memory as I try to steel myself to enter a church for the first time since his death. Can God forgive me of my sins? Will he forgive me for killing my father and unborn baby brother?

  My body jerks at the sudden shock of me biting my bottom lip too hard. Quickly, I lick the droplet of blood, hoping to erase my immoralities with one swipe of the tongue.

  I glance at the church and try to swallow down the bitter taste of fear, wondering for a moment if I’m about to die once I step foot on the holy ground. My hands suddenly feel ice cold even though it’s at least a hundred degrees outside. Sitting on my hands to warm them up, I swing my legs out to release the pent-up energy as I wait for my mother to finish reapplying her lipstick.

  “I don’t want to go inside, Mommy.” My voice shakes as I plead for the last time, knowing it will only fall on deaf ears.

  She snaps the cap back in place on the tube of lipstick and turns to look at me through the narrowed slits of her green eyes. “For the last time, I told you that you have to go. Your new daddy wants to meet you.”

  She checks her teeth for lipstick smudges in the mirror, already bored with explaining this to me again. “God knows why he would want to meet you,” she murmurs, and I wonder if it was meant for me to hear.

  “But I’ll be struck dead if I walk inside,” I whine. She hates it when I complain but I fear the worst will happen to me.

  The slap comes out of nowhere so fast I don’t have enough time to feel it as my head hits the car door. My cheek burns on one side and my head throbs on the other. Pain. Oh my God, the pain. I open my mouth to let out a cry but see the seething look in her eyes and shut my mouth, swallowing it down like I’ve done many times before.

  “No backtalk,” she says as she fluffs out her auburn hair. It bounces around her shoulders and down her back in a cascade of curls like a waterfall.

  “Yes’m,” I mumble and nibble on my bottom lip.

  She opens the car door. “Come on, he’s expecting us.” Bending down, she smooths down her tight skirt and checks her stockings for runs. Satisfied with her appearance, she begins to walk down the paved lot, not bothering to make sure if I’m behind her or not.

  I run up to her and try to keep in step as she walks in a brisk pace. I fall behind for a second to catch my breath.

  “Do you hear me? Tallie, this is very important.” My mother stops suddenly in the middle of the church parking lot and bends down in front of me. “Look at you, you’re a mess.”

  In her typical dramatic fashion, she reaches inside her purse and pulls out a napkin, holding it to my mouth. “Spit.”

  I do as she commands. She takes the now moist tissue and wipes what’s left of my chocolate chip cookie from the corners of my mouth. Her freshly painted red nails twirl in the air in a wordless order. Slowly, I turn around so her eyes can give me an appraising look.

  Nodding her approval, she grabs my left hand and gives it a squeeze.

  “Tallie, this is very important to Mo
mmy. Okay?” Her voice is stern, yet she sounds as if she is pleading for my help. “You must be a very good girl. Do whatever he says, okay?” She looks at me and I nod. “Good. He wants you to come live with us after the wedding.”

  Again, she waits for me to acknowledge my understanding, which I do. “Once you live with us, you have to be a good girl. You must not do anything to make him regret you being around. Do you hear me? Do absolutely whatever he says and I won’t send you back to Granny.”

  “I promise, Mommy. I’ll be good.” I get to live with Mommy and my new daddy. Will I be a part of a family again? Will he love me just as much as my real daddy did? Will God finally forgive me?

  She smiles and rubs my hair. If I was like my pet cat, I would’ve purred. But I’m not, so instead, I smile and my heart bursts with joy with the first sign of affection she has shown me in years.

  The heat from the hot Florida sun beams down on top of my head and the dress my mother made me wear suddenly feels itchy against my skin.

  “Mommy, I’m hot.” My eyes squint in their feeble effort to block out the rays.

  “Come on, he’s expecting us in his office. There’s air conditioning inside, okay?” With her purse in one hand and me in the other, she sashays across the lot and towards the church’s entrance.

  The door suddenly swings open, barely missing us by a breath. A large woman in a floral printed dress and patent leather shoes that look like they are a size too small looks at us in wide-eyed shock, and then a dim light of recognition flickers across her face.

  “Oh, Queen, didn’t see you.” The woman steps aside to allow my mother and me to walk into the cold draft inside the church. She smiles at my mother and looks down, seeing me for the first time. Bending to my level, she says, “My, what a pretty little girl you are. You Queen’s chil’?”

  “Yes’m,” I mumble, moving behind my mother and pressing my cheek against the protection of her thigh.

  “Sure is. This here is my baby. Tallahassee, come on now and say hello.” She uses my full name as a defense mechanism when introducing me to people. It’s her way of saying, “We are somebody, not just poor country folk.” Reaching behind, her fingers find their mark on top of my head and she nudges me forward but my feet remain rooted to the ground.

  “My, what a pretty name that is.” She holds the top of her hat as she peeks around my mother to talk to me. “You know that you share the name of our state capital?”

  Her tiny coal-black eyes bore into my wide green ones and I try to mold myself into my mother, gripping on to her a little tighter at the risk of angering her or worse, wrinkling her skirt. I’m pretty sure I just earned a whipping for that but I don’t like strangers. They scare me and this woman looks scariest of them all.

  “Oh, come on, suge. Come on and be a sweet little girl.” The woman speaks to me in baby talk even though I’m seven.

  My mother gives a nervous giggle that doesn’t quite hide her annoyance. “Tallie can be shy sometimes.” Goose bumps crawl up my flesh at the sound of the irritation in my mother’s voice. Deciding it might be best to say hello and not risk a worse punishment later, I walk from around my mother and mutter a quick hi, hoping this will be enough. Thankfully, it is because she smiles and gives me a nod of approval.

  “She’s a beautiful little girl.” The older woman pinches my cheek and rises. “You’re going to have your hands full when she gets of age.” She winks at my mother.

  “Lawd, she already is a handful.” My mother places a hand over her chest. “Ever since her father died, it’s just been the two of us. Don’t know what I would’ve done without the prayer of God.”

  The older woman reaches her hand out and touches my mother’s clutched one. “The Lord is our savior. He blesses those who are faithful to the good word.” A Bible I hadn’t seen the woman holding before makes an appearance as she places it against her heart. “And you are one of his most faithful servants.”

  My mother bows her head and blushes a shade of gratitude. “Well, I try to be.”

  “We can all learn from you.” The woman smiles warmly at my mother.

  “And I you,” Mommy returns the flattery.

  “Well, if you all will excuse me. I have to run and pick up my husband from work. Our other car is being worked on.” She bends to give my chin a squeeze that makes me wince and kisses my mother’s cheek before leaving just as quickly as we ran into her.

  As soon as the door closes, darkness descends over my mother’s green eyes that are now narrowed at me. I shrink backward, wishing I could disappear.

  “You have to stop being disobedient. You hear me? I’ll fix you real good when we get home.” Her voice is shrill with annoyance. “Your father spoiled you rotten. The day you were born, the moon turned blood red. I knew it then that you had the devil in you. Your father, God rest his soul, was a good man and deserved better than you.”

  I killed my father that night and that’s when our lives changed forever. I sealed our fates, and mine was most likely destined for hell ’cause heaven surely won’t accept me.

  The dam that holds back my tears begins to break and my lower lip trembles. I try desperately not to cry, knowing if I do, it will worsen my chastisement.

  “Well, well, what is this? Two beautiful girls in my presence?” A man in a suit walks towards us. A gold crucifix is pinned to his tie and his cufflinks sparkle like red diamonds. I recognize his face as the pastor Grandma watches on television every Sunday morning.

  He’s to be my new daddy? I pray really hard not to accidentally kill him too. Surely, God would never forgive that.

  “Charles, honey, I didn’t see you over there.” My mother rushes over to him and he holds his hand out, preventing her from wrapping her arms around him. Stopping short, she lowers her head, looking shameful. “I’m sorry, honey, I was just so excited to see you.” Her voice is timid and unsure.

  He smiles at her. “It’s all right. We just need to be mindful since we’re not married, and I must lead first by example.”

  “As always, you’re right.” She turns around and beckons me forward. One look screams, Behave, do whatever he wants. Even though I’m scared, I dare not make the same mistake in such a short period of time. Walking forward, I come to stand next to her.

  “This is Tallahassee, she’s a bit shy.” She gives my shoulder a nudge forward. “Tallie, this is Bishop McBride. He’s to be your new daddy.”

  I lift my head to look at my mother and then to the man who is supposed to be my new daddy. He’s tall and lean, with dark hair and crystal-blue eyes. In other words, he reminds me of what I would imagine the devil to look like.

  “Why, she’s the spitting image of you. Same hair and eyes.” His hand strokes my red auburn hair, and I shrug off his touch. It doesn’t feel right. Everything feels wrong. Again, the tears threaten to appear.

  “Tallie, I don’t know what is wrong with you but if I whip that behind of yours, it’ll straighten those demons out in you.” She takes a step towards me but he stops her with a touch to her arm.

  “No need to speak to her like that. She’s shy and scared, that’s all.” Bending in front of me, he looks deep into my soul. “We’re going to be good friends, aren’t we, Tallie? I’ve heard so much about you from your beautiful mother and I love you already.”

  My heart leaps when he defends me to my mother and suddenly the fear I had melts away, like vanilla ice cream on a hot summer day. Maybe having a new daddy won’t be so bad after all. Maybe I won’t kill this one too.

  Legs that were trembling moments ago now move me towards Daddy. I give him a quick kiss on his clean-shaven cheek to let him know I want to be friends. His aftershave tickles my nose and I scrunch it up, holding back a sneeze. He smiles at me and I know I would do anything to see it directed at me again.

  His ring-covered fingers reach into his pocket and pull out a shiny new quarter, which he hands to me. Knowing better than to take anything without permission, I look at my mother for approval. Wi
th red-rimmed eyes, she nods.

  Lifting my hand, I reach for the quarter I know I’ll always keep as a memory of the day I met my new daddy. Our fingers touch for the briefest of moments and a shock passes between us. Again, staring deep into the depth of my soul, he smiles as if we have a secret between us. Taking it, I give him a, “Thank you,” in the tiniest voice.

  “That’s my sweet girl. And every time you’re sweet, I’ll give you another.” His voice soothes yet scares me. It’s the known and the unknown, and my brain can’t comprehend the meaning of it all.

  I stare at the quarter as he stands off to the side and talks to my mother in hushed whispers. I look up to see him staring at me, and the ground suddenly feels like it has shifted. His expression is strange and it’s a look I recognize but is usually directed towards my mother. This man will be my ruin. I feel it but can’t explain it.

  I squeeze my quarter a little tighter and say a silent prayer.

  Over the years, I have a feeling I’ll collect hundreds of those quarters from him.

  From the rooftop garden of my one-hundred-fifteen-million-dollar penthouse overlooking Manhattan, I stare down at the city. I’m the king of this town and below me are my faithful subjects, whether they’re aware of it or not.

  I take another long sip from my glass of Louis XIII Cognac, savoring the smooth amber liquid. As usual, I’m bored and restless. Damn, I miss the days when I was the head assassin for the man who used to control this criminal empire. I often would dip my finger in my victim’s blood and spell out the name I go by, the name all have grown to fear. I’ve been called so many different things, from Ghost to asshole, until the name that most are terrified to say came to be, but never my real name.