by S. E. Rose
Chapter 26
Lily’s Playlist: “Won’t Back Down” by Eminem
Standing behind Yenny is my father. He holds a gun to Yenny’s head.
I can see Yenny’s lip tremble and her eyes show how sorry she is that she let me into the courtyard. She mouths “Lo siento.” I give what I hope is an unperceivable nod.
“Well, well, if it isn’t my lovely daughter.”
I take a breath and try to compose myself. “Hello again,” I say, pushing my head higher as I try to seem bigger than I am.
He laughs, seeing right through me. He stops abruptly and waves his gun toward the front door. “Inside now.”
I look back toward the door.
“Oh, I see. You brought your little boyfriend here,” he says with a smile that is not friendly at all.
“No,” I say, hoping it didn’t come out too fast. “I was wondering where the children are.”
“Yenny, lock the door,” he says.
Yenny walks slowly over to the gate and locks it. Then we walk inside. I see that the door to the children’s playroom is shut. It’s never shut, and I have a sneaking suspicion that the children are in there. He directs us into the office and motions for us to take the seats opposite the directora’s desk. We do.
He walks slowly around the desk and sits down. He reaches into a drawer in the bottom of the desk and takes out a false bottom and sets a USB drive and a bottle of vodka on the table. He pulls out shot glasses. He pours three shots and places two in front of us.
“Saludes,” he says as he raises his and throws it back. He sets the empty glass on the desk and looks at us.
“Well, I think we should be going now, Lily. Don’t want that boyfriend of yours getting suspicious.”
“Yenny,” he says as he turns toward her. “You and I will have an arrangement shortly. I will send one of my men in six weeks, once things calm down a bit. And don’t forget, you’ll want to keep silent about all of this or your mother may meet an unfortunate end. The elderly are so bad about taking their medicine correctly. Do you understand?”
Yenny doesn’t answer and he pounds his fists on the desk. Yenny jumps. She is physically shaking. “I said, do you understand,” he growls in Spanish.
“Si,” Yenny says in a barely audible whisper.
“Very good,” he states, now smiling as he stands. He moves around the desk and grabs me by my arm, wrenching me up and dragging me with him out the door. He moves quickly toward the back door, my feet tripping as I try to keep up with him. He opens the back door and pulls me through it and into the courtyard.
He’s moving fast now and gets us through the back gate and down a dirt path that goes around the back of the courtyard and toward the trees on the northwest side of the property. I stumble as I try to keep up with him. He stops once we get to the trees.
“Give me your phone,” he grunts and sticks a hand out toward me. Shakily, I hand him my phone. He tosses it into the woods and then continues down the path, if you can call it that. The path narrows and is little more than a parting of plants. We walk for about five minutes and then come out in a field. I can see horses in the distance. He drags me toward them.
“Get on,” he yells at me.
I comply and pull myself up on the horse. He does the same and then he ties the horses together. We start out toward the mountains. As we make our way across the fields, my mind races. I need to get away from him. I look for somewhere to run. Right now, there isn’t anywhere. If I try to escape, then I’ll be out here in an open field.
“Where are we going?” I ask him.
He looks at me with curiosity, tilting his head slightly. “A cabin,” he answers. I shudder. He stops us for a second and pulls my horse up, so our knees touch and our horses are side by side. He runs his hand up my leg and grabs my arm, pulling me toward him. He looks into my eyes and licks his lips. “I wonder if you will taste like your mother,” he says with a grin that sends shivers down my spine. My worst nightmare is confirmed.
He pushes me back and starts moving the horses again. Mine trails just slightly behind his. I close my eyes and force myself to think. Up ahead in about fifty yards is a very small trail into the forest. The forest. I’ll have cover in the forest. A memory pops into my head. I am about ten years old and taking horseback riding lessons. I’d been taking them since I was six. My instructor was a young woman in her early twenties. I think her father owned the stables. I try to remember her name, but I can’t. Focus, Lily! Anyhow, my mom thought the horses would be therapeutic for me and in some ways, I think she was right. I loved those horses. They had one called Hank, who was giant and gray with white speckles on him. He was a gentle giant who always rubbed his nose against me when I was near him. As I grew older, I’d take him out in the pasture and just gallop away. The two of us would have such fun and I felt free. I begged my parents for a horse, but when my dad died I knew Mom wouldn’t have the time to drive me to the stables as often. I still did weekly lessons, and a few shows a year. Then I got sucked into high school activities and just didn’t have the time.
I remember one day in particular when my instructor made me learn how to fall off my horse. I thought she was crazy. “You need to learn how to fall,” she said. At ten years old, I thought she’d lost her mind. But she proceeded to show me how to fall off a runaway horse. A “last resort” she called it. We practiced a few times with Hank standing still and then she had Hank trot and I fell and tucked and rolled away. Over the next few weeks, we worked on this until I could fall and roll away from him when he was in a cantor. Hank hated this of course and the moment I’d fall he’d come to an abrupt stop and circle around to find me, his soft nose sniffing me over. I had a couple of bruises from the unorthodox exercise. I never in my wildest dreams imagined I would need to use it, ever.
As we come to the forest, my father releases some more of the rope and allows my horse to trail immediately behind his. The path is very narrow. I look around and realize that I will need to wait for just the right tree formation in order to fall and roll without hitting a tree and even then, it will be tricky. We are about twenty yards into the forest. I see some outbuildings in the woods that must be part of the farm we just came from a moment ago. At this exact moment, the skies decide to open up and it begins to pour. My father glances back at me but says nothing.
I see an opening in the trees ahead. It isn’t large, but it’s my only chance. The deafening sound of the rain and thunder may cover the noise I’ll create with my fall. And just as I hear the next round of thunder, I fall from my horse and roll. I land funny on my shoulder and excruciating pain lances through my body. Shit, I must have dislocated it as it hangs like dead weight. I don’t dare try to address that now. I look back for a split second and realize he hasn’t seen me. I take off as fast as I can, darting in and out of the trees. I’m fairly certain I can make it to the barn near the forest as I see the field up ahead.
I hide behind a tree and peek around. I don’t see him. I should have enough time to get behind it, even if he turns around now. And then I see it, my phone. I grab it and realize it’s wet and not working. I shove it in my pocket with my good arm. And then I sprint with all my might, trying to push the pain aside. I make it to the side of the barn and I slowly make my way around the building until I am on the far side away from the forest.
I look around and take in my surroundings. I see several houses not too far away. I need to make it to one of them. Maybe someone will have a phone. Then I wonder if the phone at the orphanage is still working. I frown. I’m sure he cut the line before he went in there. He’d have to be stupid not to cut it.
I hear the horses whinny and I gasp. He’s coming. I frantically look around and see a door. I run to it and yank it open. Fortunately, the lock isn’t secure, and it flies open and I launch myself inside and shut the door again. The barn is small. Up above, I see a small loft with no ladder. I look around. My shoulder is still killing me. I need to pop it back in place. I wonder
if it works like in the movies. I sigh and decide I need to find out now. I take a leather strap from the wall and put it between my teeth. And then with all my might, I throw my shoulder into a large post in the barn and…I cry out and feel the bones pop back together. I slump to the floor. Shit, I hope he didn’t hear that. As I sit there breathing for a moment, I see two things that bring a smile to my face, a shotgun and a rope ladder. I look around, realizing the rope ladder attaches to two pegs on the floorboard of the loft. I do my best to swing it up and one side catches. I look around and see a rake. I use the rake to attach the other side. I end up having to climb up on a stool to do it. After a second, it is secured. I put the strap of the shotgun over my good shoulder and I climb up as fast as I can, pulling the rope ladder up after me.
Without a second to spare, the barn door flies open. I push myself back into a corner of the loft. I can see him through a very small gap in the floor beams. He’s agitatedly searching around the barn. He overturns hay and wooden crates. I can see he’s extremely angry. I pray that the shotgun has bullets and that I don’t need to use them.
“You can’t hide, Lily,” he yells angrily. “If you know what’s good for you, girl, you’ll come out now.”
I don’t budge.
“Fine, have it your way, but I will find you, mi amore,” he says, and I hear the door slam shut. I remain still for minutes, maybe twenty minutes. It’s still raining, and the rain makes the loudest sound on the metal roof. I look through the cracks in the floorboard and when I feel certain he’s actually gone, I muster all my bravery and lean forward just enough to confirm he’s not there. There are no windows, just one skylight in the roof. It’s dark in the barn, but my eyes have adjusted. I push the ladder back off the edge and it falls down to the floor. I climb down it and use a second to check the gun’s chamber. One bullet. Thank God!
I creep over to the door. I listen. I don’t hear anything besides the rain on the roof. I look around until I see a small gap in the boards near the bottom of the wall about three feet from the door. I crawl over and look through it. I don’t see him or the horses. Slowly, very slowly, I push on the door so that it opens a mere millimeter at a time.
I peer out and I still see no sign of him nor do I hear the horses. I can see one house not far away maybe two football fields from where I’m at now. I can make it there and then…I frown. I don’t want to bring more harm to other people. I look around again and see a tractor in between the barn and the house. I wonder…
I suck in a deep breath and throw open the door and start running. I look around wildly as I run. Where is he? Where is he? I don’t see him. I get to the tractor and climb up on it. Bingo, the keys sit in the ignition. I turn it on and hope the sound of the rain and some distance silences it from his ears.
I start toward the woods and the path to the orphanage. Then in the clearing where the path meets the field, I see something move. I squint in the rain and realize it’s Lance. He’s running toward the tractor. I sense motion from behind me and I spin my head around to see my father galloping full on toward me.
“Lance, run! Please run back to the orphanage!” I cry out hoping he hears me through the pounding rain.
I stop the tractor because I know I can’t outrun him in this contraption. I start sprinting toward Lance waving for him to turn around. Then I stop. I have to get my father away from Lance. I abruptly turn and start toward my father. He seems shocked by this and brings his horse to a halt. He jumps off and runs at me with his gun up and pointing at my head. At the last second, I lower my head and plow into him with all my force. He stumbles back a few steps and the gun slips from his grip. I knee him, and he falls forward gripping his crotch.
“You little bitch,” he hisses at me and reaches out yanking me down to the ground and slapping me across the face. “You’ll pay for that later.” I’m momentarily stunned by the impact to my face. However, the pain doesn’t register as anger courses through me.
We get in a struggle with the shotgun and he gets it and tosses it aside. He reaches for his gun and yanks me by my hair against him. I turn just enough to see Lance run toward us.
“No!” I cry out, trying desperately to make Lance turn around, but he doesn’t. As my father reaches for his gun, I motion to the shotgun lying on the ground about six feet from where Lance stands.
Lance doesn’t stop running as he scoops it up in his hands and cocks it in one swift motion. I give him a nod as I duck my head down and then I hear two guns fire simultaneously. My body jumps at the sound and my head whips back up to look around.
Lance stands in front of me. I can see a streak of blood on his upper leg, but otherwise, he looks alright. Then I feel my father’s grip on my hair loosen and I turn just in time to see him fall back onto the ground, blood pouring from a gaping hole in his chest. His eyes close as he loses consciousness.
I get up and run to Lance. He throws his arms around me.
“I love you!” I cry out. “I love you, I love you, I love you.” I’m crying now, the tears pouring down my cheeks. “I’m so sorry.”
“Shhhhh.” Lance is looking me over checking every inch of my body. “Are you OK? Are you hurt?”
I shake my head. He smiles a little.
“I love you too, gorgeous,” he says as he kisses my lips, my cheeks, my forehead.
I look down at his leg.
“You’re bleeding, Lance. We need to get you help,” I say to him.
No sooner do I say this when I sense an onslaught of people. I see Jack running through the trees with John and several men in military uniforms. A helicopter is flying overhead with a searchlight on it. I can see several military vehicles pulling up to the small house now and a middle-aged man is coming out of the house looking around as though he’s been invaded by aliens, which I guess isn’t a stretch.
The next few minutes are a blur. Jack is looking us over and ordering us into a helicopter. We are whisked away. All I see are military and police units everywhere. The helicopter takes us back to Bogota, not to Ibague. Lance and I are checked back into the hospital and my shoulder is x-rayed and my cuts are treated. Lance receives fifteen stitches where a bullet grazed the side of his thigh. By dinner time, Jack has us back out of the hospital and checked into a hotel. He has purchased us a change of clothes and toiletries.
“You are staying here,” Jack says. “I’m going back and getting everyone else and we’ll be back here first thing tomorrow, and then we are leaving.”
I know there’s no sense in arguing.
“What about the children, Yenny, Yessica? Are they OK?” I ask.
“Yes, love. They are OK,” he says, pulling me into a hug. “Everyone is fine. Alright?”
I nod against his chest.
“You two get some sleep and we’ll see you in the morning,” Jack says as he hands Lance our room keys and he leaves, but before he shuts the door he pokes his head back inside. “And don’t open the door for anyone but me. I’ll put this on it.” And he grabs the “do not disturb” sign, placing it on the door handle as he closes the door behind him.
Lance and I sit for a moment, just staring at one another. And then in the next instance, Lance pulls me into his lap and we hold each other. Lance grips the sides of my face so that I’m looking into his eyes.
“You scared the hell out of me,” he whispers. “I thought I’d lost you.”
“You won’t lose me,” I say to him. “I promise.”
I touch his face, memorizing the lines and the angle of his jaw. And then very slowly, I bring my mouth to his.
“I love you, Lance,” I breathe against his lips as I feel his hot breath against mine. And then we are lost in a kiss, our tongues, our lips, our souls intermingled for minutes.
Lance gently pulls my top off and takes his off before working on my pants. We touch and caress one another as we remove each layer of cotton that separates us. Finally, we stand naked, our lips still touching. I feel as though I haven’t touched him in days, weeks. I
re-commit to memory each contour of his body, each scar, each freckle, each bulge of a muscle.
Lance’s hand trails along my stomach and up to my breast, his thumb grazing my nipple which hardens under his touch. I can feel his erection growing hard against my belly. He lifts me up so that my legs wrap around his waist and his lips can reach mine without bending down. I feel weightless in his arms. His hands cup my ass and he walks us over to the giant king-sized bed. He gently lowers me down and then all his weight is on me, crushing me to the mattress, but it feels so good.
He kisses my neck and then each breast, each nipple, and my stomach. I feel myself aching for him, but he takes his time. He kisses down one leg and then another. And then he slowly spreads my legs apart, his kisses getting closer and closer to where I ache for him to touch me.
He blows against my clit and I squirm. He does this again and again until I don’t believe I can take it any longer. Just as I am about to push his head against me, he slowly licks me, and I feel myself start to go over the edge. He alternates licking and sucking on my clit and when he pushes a finger inside me, I feel myself let go and I cry out his name as my body trembles and my muscles spasm against his finger and his mouth.
He stays there until I feel myself sink down into the mattress, languid from my orgasm. My eyes are closed, and I can feel his hard length just barely touching my entrance. I spread my legs wider and he runs it up and down my wetness. And then he plunges into me. I’m so wet that he drives all the way inside me in one fluid movement. The sudden feel of his thickness, his hardness inside of me spurs me to come again, and I yell indiscernible words into the darkness of the room.
Lance keeps going. He pulls my legs up, driving deeper with each thrust. I feel him enlarging and I know he’s close. I focus on the friction between our most intimate parts. The heat and wetness between us is so intense.
“Come again, with me,” Lance murmurs against my lips and that is my undoing.
“Lance!” I cry out as he plunges one last time deep inside me and as my body quivers, I feel the heat of his orgasm fill me.