The Plug's Wife by Chynna

Author:Chynna [Chynna]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Blake Karrington Presents
Published: 2015-10-05T05:00:00+00:00

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She had committed her first murder back in Cuba when she was thirteen years old.

In the middle of the night, her family was awoken by her sister Carrerra’s shrill screams. Her grandparents rushed from the small room where they slept at the back of their tiny, dirt floor shack. Her grandmother fell to her knees, chanting the same prayer over and over in Spanish. Her grandfather, frail and no match for their intruder, stood on sore, shaky legs, watching helplessly.

She reacted on instinct, running straight for the shoebox on top of the small icebox that held the little bit of food they had left. She grasped the cold steel inside and approached her sister. Sweat streaked down the sides of her face as she stood in the middle of the dirt floor of her family’s ramshackle home with her knobby knees knocking against one another and her teeth chattering. Out in front of her, she held her grandfather’s long nose, silver .22 caliber Colt revolver. Her hands shook so badly the gun moved around in almost complete small circles. It didn’t matter that tiny drips of urine escaped her bladder because of her nerves. She wasn’t about to back down. She’d seen where backing down had gotten her and her family in the past.

“¡Vete de aquí! Déjanos en paz!” Get out of here! Leave us alone! she had demanded of the six foot-three inch, hulking perpetrator. Who knew what unimaginable evil act the man had in mind for her sister?

The brute wasn’t swayed by her bravado or her warnings.

She shouted another warning at the man, louder this time. Her nerves caused a rush of adrenaline to shoot through her veins that almost made her dizzy. The man laughed at her this time, wickedness glinting in his red-rimmed rat eyes. His deliberate disregard was insulting.

This incensed her. She knew he saw her as a silly little poor girl, who was probably bluffing.

From the expensive leather cowboy boats and the amount of gold jewelry the man wore, she could tell he was one of the rare ones in this part of Cuba who had money. She also knew he probably felt he was entitled to anything he wanted. He’d probably made his money from robbing and stealing what little bit others had worked hard to amass. There was a whole band of men that lived like him—robbing from the poor to get rich. Los ladrones ricos malvados is what they called them in Cuba. The Evil Rich Thieves. She didn’t care who he was—she would not let him hurt her family. They had suffered enough hurt and pain over the years. Enough was enough!

“He dicho que fuera y nos dejen en paz! Salgan ahora!” I said get out and leave us alone! Get out now! She gave him one more stern warning, the gun pointed steadily at his chest.

“¿Qué vas a hacer con eso? Nada más que mear fuera de mí!” What are you going to do with that thing? Nothing but

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