by Croft, Rose
“Emilio…” I ran my hands over his and pressed him closer.
“Shh,” he whispered as he laid his palm flat against my pelvis. He stared down at his hand and appeared to be in deep thought. Then, he rose up and flipped me over on my stomach. “On your knees,” he ordered wrenching my hips up as I struggled awkwardly to get on all fours with my jeans at my calves hindering my movement. He gripped my ass spreading my cheeks wide.
“Damn you, Sofía.” His thumbs dug into my skin. “I want to hurt you.”
“No, you don’t.” I exhaled as I felt pressure on my tight hole that had never been touched before.
“You don’t know what I want,” he growled and pressed in with his thumb. The pressure was odd and uncomfortable. I squirmed under his touch, and he slid three fingers into my pussy. He leaned into me. “Don’t ever assume to know me.”
I gasped, relishing in his fingers playing me like a fine-tuned instrument. “I hate how you’ve changed.” I pushed my ass into his thumb.
“Then, take a fucking bow, baby. You did this shit, and you’re wet as rain so don’t act like you don’t want this.”
I twisted my head around. He ran his other hand up my spine and gripped the back of my neck turning my head away. “Face the wall.”
“You want to humiliate me. I know.” The pressure of his thumb burned inside me, and I willed myself to stay still and keep my voice steady. “But it’s not ever going to be that way to me because… I give myself freely to you.”
Emilio grumbled out a few curse words in Spanish and then, I felt the delicious warmth of his mouth on my pussy. He licked, nibbled and sucked. It was sweet torture, and I thought I would die. He dug his thumb deeper in my other hole. The air left my lungs, but his tongue thrusts inside me balanced out the pleasure and pain.
“Yes. Like that.” My voice didn’t sound like mine. My body wasn’t mine. It was definitely his. He owned me. Always had.
Emilio’s mouth and fingers thrust into me so deeply in both places I nearly shot off the couch as the orgasm built up in me as though I were an overfilled balloon about to explode. “I’m gonna possess you one way or another.” He pulled back. “Every breath, every moan, every goddamn piece of you, I will own.” His words draped over me like an unstoppable death warrant, and his tongue was inside me again. My nails dug into the sofa cushion, and I let the climax consume me. I would gladly give myself to him to experience these little deaths.
My breaths were heavy, and I dropped my cheek against the armrest. I could hear him undoing his pants and the rip of foil. Before I could catch my breath, he drove into me. Filling me with his thick cock. It was a tight fit, and my jeans restrained me from spreading my legs farther apart. “God, feel how your pussy’s clenched around me. I’m not even all the way in.” He groaned as he wrapped an arm around my chest. His hand squeezed my left breast. His palm covered my fluttering heart, and he pulled me close until I was flush against him.
“More, Emilio,” I goaded wanting every inch of him.
He nosed in and bit my earlobe and thrust in deeper. I felt the fullness of him. Oh boy, did I ever. His breaths were deeper, heavier. “Mi adicción. Mi droga.” My addiction. My drug. His words came out like a curse, but only heightened my need for him as he drove into me. I would never get enough of him. The pleasure was building to a crescendo.
I reached behind me gripping the back of his head forcing him closer. His splayed fingers between my breasts etched into my skin, painfully, and he rasped, “So good.”
“I’m close.” I drove my mouth over his forcing him to open and let me in.
“Fuck, Sofía, fuck! What are you doing to me?” he murmured against me but still wouldn’t respond to my desperate kiss.
“Don’t stop,” I plead as I pursued his mouth, begging with my actions. Wanting to be as close to him in all ways. Needing his lips on mine.
“Fuck you,” he ground out and soon ravished my mouth like a man who hadn’t eaten in days. The stubble on his face scratched my skin, and he pushed deeper inside me.
“Baby.” I clenched against him over and over.
He drove his tongue into my mouth as I felt his body tense and shudder against me. His deep moan reverberated down my throat traveling to my stomach as he pulsed over and over inside of me. I wanted to freeze time and stay in this moment forever knowing our time together was short-lived.
Soon, our breaths evened out. He closed his eyes and dropped his forehead to my shoulder. I threaded my fingers through his hair holding him close.
His lips trailed over my skin, while his hand massaged my breast. I had hope that maybe just maybe he was softening his heart…
The soft chime of my cell phone was like a death toll, a warning sound for impending doom, and the moment was shattered.
Emilio pulled away from me leaving me barren and shaken. “Don’t you need to answer that?” The detachment laced in his words scraped over my skin.
I fought the tears burning my eyes blurring my vision. Forcing myself to stand, I gathered my jeans and panties over my hips. I slipped the tee over my head bypassing the bra that lay shredded on the floor like a broken doll. I stepped past it and reached down and retrieved my phone that was ringing relentlessly in my backpack.
“Tito,” I said, my voice level. I gazed across the room at Emilio who was dressed and put together as if nothing between us had ever happened. He was staring out the glass sliding door with one arm braced high against the wall.
“The fuck you at?” Tito barked. I could hear the music blaring in the background mixed in with raucous voices of men and women.
“Work,” I said without emotion, and Emilio slowly twisted his head my way gazing at me blankly.
“About fuckin’ time. It’s initiation night and I need your ass here.” He already sounded half-way buzzed. “By the way, this shit better not happen again.”
“I’ll get there when I get there.”
He laughed. “That’s cute. Let me give you a little incentive. I found your brother.” The line went dead, and my heart pounded against my rib cage.
Everything I loved was hanging in the balance. Emilio hated me, and Tito was hanging knowledge of my brother over my head. “I have to go.” I lowered my cell to my side. Helpless. Desolate. The air of hope rushed out of me quickly. Deflated.
“I know.” Emilio’s voice flat-lined, and we were back to passing strangers again. The unwanted role shoved itself heavily against my heart.
What did I say? I’d laid my heart out there and he’d rejected me time and time again.
I bent down and lifted the torn undergarment, stuffing it into my backpack. My cell followed, and I slipped the strap of my backpack over my shoulder.
I stepped closer to him. My hands itched to ease the hardness from his face. My body craved his warmth. My soul begged for his forgiveness and his love.
But it was as though his body was a rare blood type that rejected anything I had to give. I dropped my head and forced heavy steps to the door. My hand twisted the handle and pulled. Suddenly, I was fighting against a stronger force as I raised my eyes and saw his palm laid out flat high above me shoving the door closed. His warm, hard body pressed against mine.
“Emilio?” I breathed. Hope flurried in my chest. I turned to face him and placed a hand on his pec. I peered up at his dark, usually expressive eyes that were still vacant, emotionless, or maybe full of regret. I wasn’t certain. Probably both.
“I need…” The words crept out of his mouth as he checked himself to keep his voice even. “I need to pay you before I forget.”
My heart sunk deeper as he pulled out his wallet and thumbed through the bills.
I stopped him with his hand. “No, you don’t. I don’t want your money—”
He cut me off before I could finish. “That was our agreement.”
There was a flash of compassion on his face before he clamped his square jaw together and forced the money into my hand. “That’s it. We’re done.”
I couldn’t look at him or I’d break down again, but my pride kept me from begging. My voice shook as I forced the words out. “This was never my intention. I never wanted it to be like this.”
“I didn’t either.” He shrugged. “But… here we are.” He watched me as though he was about to face a firing squad, and he killed me with his final words. “For the record, I remember everything about that night.”
Sofía
“Tell me,” I croaked when I stepped up to Tito holding court; his crew and voluptuous, ornery women around him. Think I already mentioned that Tito was power hungry, and tonight was the night I ended it all.
His lips twisted into his signature lopsided by-no-choice scar-skinned smile. “What you talking about, Gatita?” I could tell by the caricature look on his face he was flying high. He knew what I wanted by the fucked-up gleam in his eye. Beg me for it.
“You know.” I glanced around disgusted by him and his show of people who fawned over him. “I don’t want to talk about it here.”
“Oh?” His dead eyes rose with interest as he coldly shoved a curvaceous girl off his lap who toppled to the floor giggling. “Is that right?” He cocked his head and stepped to me with an intimidating look on his face. Tito wanted to scare you, break you. He thrived on making you feel vulnerable—found your weaknesses and pounced.
I stood my ground knowing I could possibly die tonight. I’d done everything Tito said in the name of trying to save Emilio and Eric, but I realized I was already dying a slow death, and he would never let this go. Nothing would change, but I had to do something. He crept up until he was right in my face.
I stood my ground and had nothing to lose. If he wanted to intimidate me, good luck.
“Where the fuck you been, girl?”
“Where’s my brother?”
He gave me the ignore the question creepy smile and bent his head into my neck and inhaled. “Nah, fuck that. You smell like a whore that’s been fucked.” His body bowed up as he bumped me with his chest. “You fuckin’ someone, bitch?”
Somehow, I was beyond reading anything into his threats. I was still reeling over Emilio ending whatever we had and nothing else mattered but saving my brother. “Where’s Oscar?”
“You wanna talk? Let’s talk somewhere private.” He got in my space, threatening as always and pushed me back, taking me down the hallway. I followed stiffly plotting how to play this out.
“What do you know about my brother?” I demanded as soon as we stepped foot in his bedroom and set my backpack down.
He smiled evilly showing his gold tooth. “He’s not here. I don’t know where he is. But I knew I’d get your attention, and I know you’ve been lying to me. You look like cheap sex, and here I was trying to be a gentleman.” His fingers curled around my shoulder painfully.
“Don’t. Touch. Me.” I shoved him back, and he staggered, chuckling like a maniac. He straightened and stepped to me again. “You’re gonna push me too far, and I’m gonna hurt you.”
“No. I’m going to hurt you.”
He scraped a hand over his buzzed head shaking his head. “You’re a fuckin’ deceptive bitch aren’t you? I was willing to give you anything. I held back because I thought you were a good girl. I thought you were loyal to me, but you weren’t. Were you?” He ran a hand up my arm. “I’m so disappointed.” I tried to shrug him off and he clamped his hand around my bicep and yanked me against his chest. His eyes were wild with anger, lust, and whatever drug he was on. His pupils were dilated, and a sweaty sheen lined his forehead. His other hand snaked up between us and he gripped my chin, his fingers dug into my cheeks. “Time to pay the piper.”
His mouth crashed down on mine, while I struggled against him, but he clamped an arm around my waist imprisoning my arms. When his tongue pushed through, I bit down hard and kneed him in the groin.
“Fuck!” he roared and reared back striking me across the face sending me reeling back. My cheek was practically numb after the blow, and I could feel blood already trickling down my nose.
Tito flexed his hand and smiled eerily as he jutted his chin. “You ain’t so tough now. Are you?”
I swiped at my nose and laughter bubbled in my throat. Maybe I was just as crazy as he. “You think I’m scared of you?” The acrid taste of blood was in my mouth, and I spat at him. “I killed Tío Cesar, and I’m gonna kill you, too.”
“Bitch, please.” Tito pffted although he was semi-hunched over, gripping his junk, and moved toward me. “You couldn’t fight your way out of a paper sack.”
“Try me,” I goaded. “You’re a pussy who hides behind a gun and a knife and recruits kids to do your dirty work.”
“Fuck you, puta.” He pounced on me knocking us both to the floor. Whoosh! The wind rushed out of my chest when my back slammed against the floor. I struggled to take in oxygen and knew I was facing an impossible challenge. Be strong, Sofí, I plead. I wasn’t going to give up. I’d fight until death.
“Is that all you’ve got?” I asked which rewarded me with Tito’s fist to my ribs.
“Why you gotta rile me up like this?” He sat on me and punched my ribs again and again, and I knew from the intense pain building one of them had to be cracked. “I never wanted to hurt you, Sofí, but you push and push until… ”
I fisted my hands together and slammed them against the side of his face throwing him off me. I fought the pain and darted to the corner of the room where a wooden baseball bat was propped against the wall. I heard Tito rustle behind me, and I turned and swung with all my might bashing him against the skull.
“Fuck!” he yelled gripping his head.
“You’re not so tough now, are you?” I mocked him holding the bat high and dropped it down hard on his head again, driving him to his knees. “Fuck you!” I screamed and swung and swung until he wasn’t moving anymore. I pounded and pounded until blood was caked on his head like a filthy crown.
I could barely hear my ragged breaths, and I lightly touched my ribs grimacing. It hurt like a bitch, but I was high on adrenaline and desperate to get out. Luckily, the blaring music in the living room hid all the commotion. I snagged my backpack and carried the bat with me as I slipped out of Tito’s room.
I snuck down the hallway and peered into the living room. Some of the guys were grinding against girls to the music while others were just grinding against girls on the sofa, loveseat, chair, coffee table, and wherever else. I ducked down and raced through the kitchen to the door leading to the garage.
“Aye, Gatita, where the fuck is Tito?”
Shit! Shit! Shit! I think it was Luis’ voice yelling from the living room. Without turning my head, I called out, “In his room with some chick.” I opened the door and took off through the open garage, dodging parked cars in the driveway as I veered left out into the street. I ran with bat in hand ignoring the sharp, jarring pain in my side that magnified when my feet pounded the concrete.
Where would I go? What would I do? I think I killed Tito. Would I go back to jail? Would Tito’s boys come after me? I couldn’t go to Emilio? I couldn’t put them in danger. When I realized I was far away from Tito’s neighborhood, I slowed to a walk. My lungs ached as I struggled to take in air, and I could barely hold myself up. However, I trudged on. Soon, I noticed a familiar building illuminated under the streetlights. The inside was dark and unoccupied since it was late. I reached the side of the building and leaned against the wall, exhausted clutching the bat to my side. My adrenaline had crashed and burned causing my legs to give out. I slid down to the ground into a seated position. My eyes closed against my will, and the world faded away.
“You can stay with me,” Janis said as we left the doctor’s office. She’d found me asleep on the sidewalk near her office building. I knew from the horrified expression on her face, I looked like a train wreck. I told her everything about my life, holding nothing back—my ties to ES-22, the assault of my uncle and Tito, the names of local gang members, and what they’d done. She made a call to one of her
friends that worked in the downtown division of the police department.
“You don’t have to take me in. I’ll find my own place.” I was forever grateful to Janis, but I didn’t want to be a burden.
“You’re staying with me, and I’m not taking no for an answer. Besides, you need to rest for a few days.”
I nodded and sighed tiredly. “Thank you.”
Sofía
“All right, boys and girls, it’s show and tell,” Mrs. Rojas said. “Remember, I sent a note home to your parents to make sure you bring something you love from home because we’re going to share with the class and then write about it in our class book we’re making for your parents to see.”
It was the end of my second week with this class, and I looked forward to each day I was here. It was therapeutic. This was my calling. No doubt about it. Not to mention, I had the time to spend with Eric.
It been several days since I showed up beaten and bruised at Janice’s office, and the pain and bruises were still there, but slowly fading. Luckily, most of my bruises could be covered. Each day I was here brought me happiness and kept my mind off my painful past. Besides, I would be a liar if I didn’t feel extra inspired because I had the opportunity to be around Eric.
If I ever had a doubt he wasn’t mine, it was confirmed a few days ago when Mrs. Rojas gave me a class roster to write names on their book bags. I immediately scrolled to his name, and my heart battled joy and sadness. His name was listed as Eric García-Mendoza. Most Hispanic families listed their child’s last name with both parent’s last name. Usually, first the father’s last name and then the mother’s. My name was not included. It was Emilio’s last name only.
My heart took another blow, but I found comfort in being around Eric and knowing Emilio did everything in his power for our son. It was obvious. I could tell in class when we read stories. I could see it with every activity we did. He was socially and academically soaring in class. It made my heart burst, and I had to constantly cover my overreactions when Eric did excel. I wanted to hold him close and shout to the mountains that he was the greatest child ever. Those were the memories that kept me going. Made my resolve to get my life in order a mantra. Then there was always Emilio. He hadn’t contacted me, but I thought about him every moment of the day.