Chapter 293: Her Haunting Past 2

"Da... Dad..."

The word barely escaped Lara’s lips.

It was so soft, so strained, it sounded less like a voice than the whisper of a frightened ghost.

Her entire body shook.

The pistol felt impossibly heavy in her tiny hands. Her fingers had long since gone numb from gripping it too tightly, yet she dared not let go again.

"Please..."

A sob broke the rest of her sentence.

"Dad..."

She struggled to breathe through her tears.

"Please don’t... make me do it..."

Her words dissolved into broken cries. She wasn’t looking at the kneeling man anymore.

She couldn’t.

If she met his eyes, she knew she would never be able to pull the trigger.

She wanted to wake up.

She wanted someone—anyone—to open the basement door and tell her this had all been a nightmare.

She wanted her mother. She wanted her brother and her sister. She wanted to be anywhere but here.

"Lara."

Artemio’s voice cut cleanly through her sobs.

She flinched so violently the gun nearly slipped from her hands again.

"A Fuegerro is not a coward."

His voice remained level. Controlled. Almost patient.

"Have you forgotten everything I’ve taught you?"

"You have a debt to repay. You will avenge your mother and your brother."

"This blood feud belongs to you."

Every word landed like another chain wrapping around her small body.

She didn’t understand. She had never understood.

How could she avenge people she barely remembered? How could killing someone bring them back?

Why was she the one who had to carry hatred that wasn’t hers?

She didn’t want revenge. She just wanted her father to love her.

Fresh sobs escaped her.

Artemio’s expression hardened.

He seized her by the collar with one hand and lifted her effortlessly into the air.

Her feet dangled helplessly. The gun nearly slipped again.

"Listen carefully."

His face was only inches from hers.

"You are going to do this."

His eyes were cold.

"So whether you want to or not is irrelevant."

"This..."

He gave her a slight shake.

"...is your training."

He let go.

Lara hit the floor awkwardly. Pain shot through both feet and up her legs, but it barely registered.

Nothing hurt more than the terror crushing her chest.

"Do it."

The command echoed through the basement.

She raised the pistol again. Her right hand held the grip. Her left desperately tried to steady it.

Neither stopped shaking.

The barrel swayed from side to side.

The kneeling man watched her quietly.

He no longer begged.

Somewhere between the kicks and the beatings, he had accepted that he would never leave this basement alive.

A bitter laugh escaped him.

"You really are an animal, Fuegerro."

Blood dripped from the corner of his mouth.

"You make a child carry your sins. You hide your filth beneath your uniform."

His swollen eyes burned with contempt.

"You disgrace the army. And you are unworthy of being called a father."

Lara’s head snapped toward Artemio.

No. Please stop. Please don’t make him angrier. She silently pleaded.

A heavy kick crashed into the man’s chest.

He coughed violently, nearly collapsing before forcing himself upright again.

His legs trembled.

Still...he refused to kneel. Not anymore.

"You’ll answer for this someday."

He spat blood onto the floor.

"There is such a thing as karma. When it finds you..."

His eyes locked onto Artemio’s.

"I’ll be waiting for you in hell."

For the first time, anger flickered across Artemio’s face.

His fists slammed into the man’s already broken body.

Again.

And again.

Then again.

Each impact echoed through the basement.

Lara squeezed her eyes shut.

Stop.

Please stop.

Please...

The sounds refused to disappear. The blows. The coughing. Bones striking concrete.

She wanted to cover her ears but she couldn’t.

Both hands still clung desperately to the gun.

When the beating finally stopped, the man’s breathing had become shallow.

Every breath sounded painful.

Slowly...

He lifted his head. His bruised eyes found Lara. Not with hatred nor blame but only pity.

Poor child.

"You remember this..."

Every word cost him a ragged breath.

"None of this...is your fault."

He coughed blood. Then his lips formed the faintest smile.

"It is your father’s."

"He..."

Another painful breath.

"...is the monster."

Something inside Lara shattered.

No.

Don’t say that. He’s my dad.

He’s...

He is...

The words refused to come. Because somewhere deep inside...a part of her already knew.

"What are you waiting for?"

This time Artemio’s voice thundered through the room.

His restraint was gone.

"DO IT!"

Lara’s entire body jerked.

Her finger found the trigger.

Pull.

Just pull.

Her father was watching.

If she didn’t obey...

She knew what would come next. The punishments and the pain.

The endless days of being told she should have died instead.

Pull.

Her finger strained but nothing happened.

It wouldn’t move. Or perhaps...she couldn’t make herself move it.

Her tiny hands shook so violently the barrel rattled.

"I..."

She couldn’t breathe.

"I can’t..."

Artemio swore under his breath.

In two long strides he reached her. He lifted her again, carried her until she stood only inches from the wounded man, then set her back down.

The man was so close now.

Close enough that she could see every bruise.

Every cut.

The tears mixing with blood on his face.

He looked at her the way no one ever had before.

Not with anger. Not with hatred.

But with compassion.

Artemio crouched beside her.

His large hand closed around her tiny one. Completely swallowing it.

Cold and unyielding.

The barrel steadied. Lara’s heart stopped.

"No..."

she whispered.

"No..."

The man met her eyes one last time.

"Live."

His voice was barely audible.

"And don’t carry this."

A weak smile crossed his bloodied lips.

"Blame him."

A pause.

"Never yourself."

Artemio tightened his grip around her hand.

Her finger was forced against the trigger.

"BANG."

The recoil jolted through her entire arm.

Warm droplets struck her face. Her neck. Her hands.

At first...

There was no sound.

She felt numb as if the world simply... stopped.

She stared blankly ahead.

Something warm trickled down her forehead.

Then across her cheek. Into the corner of her mouth.

She tasted iron.

It was blood. His blood.

The realization tore through her mind.

A scream unlike anything she’d ever made ripped from her throat.

It echoed through the basement.

Through the concrete walls.

Through every shattered piece of the little girl she had been.

Then everything went black.