“He’s lying.”
“Don’t fucking accuse him of doing the lying!” Santiago bellows, his anger causing his breathing to sharpen and he brings his face right up to mine. “I’m going to have fucking fun waking the house up with this. You’re not going to get bailed out of this either.”
“Santiago!” I scream, fighting against him. I can already imagine the beating, feel his fists and kicks. The thoughts cause my fight to being feral. “Please!”
“Shut up, puta!” he replies, tightening his grip on me as he drags me down toward the courtyard, only stopping to wake his men up. “Get my father up... time to show a bitch she doesn’t mess with the El Salvador. Make sure no one misses this!” he orders them, looking down at me as I still fight against his hold. “I’m going to have fun with this, Eighteen.”
I’m thrown, discarded by Santiago like I’m suddenly too dirty to touch. My body hits the courtyard floor, gravel and stones cut into the bare skin of my legs, while dust coats me. I push up on my hands, looking at him as he stands before me, arms across over his chest and a death glare on his face.
Slowly people start to enter, and while I remain on the floor, they all look at me aware of what I’ve done and what I’ll endure. Everyone files into the room; Joaquín sits in his throne, his eyes digging into me with a burning sensation. I see how disappointed he is, I know I’ve threatened my spot in this place by not trying harder with Javier, but what was I to do? He refused my every advance. As Javier comes in with some of the men, I see his eyes widen and then suddenly narrow as he catches sight of me.
“What’s the meaning of this?” Joaquín says after waiting for everyone to enter, his tone shows he isn’t happy. “It’s the middle of the fucking night!”
“Eighteen here isn’t so special anymore,” Santiago begins to tell his father but doesn’t look away from me. “You gave her Javier to welcome, but the little puta didn’t do as she was told.”
“I tried,” I defend, springing up onto my knees, willing myself to stand, but I remain knelt.
“Are you saying he didn’t want you?” Joaquín asks, standing up to approach me. “Is Javier the liar? Have I allowed a liar into my house?”
I start to feel my breathing race, knowing that I could very well ruin Javier here, but I can’t.
It’s not in me to destroy another.
“It wasn’t him!” I defend, my voice becoming shrill.
Javier’s eyes go wide as he stares at me, but I don’t care. This is a man with a game changer in mind and maybe I’ve fallen for him a little for just the simple fact that he is caring enough to give a damn, but I will not allow him to endure the wrath that will come of this.
He was about to confess, I can see from the way his body is braced, but I get in there first.
“He wanted to take me the moment we were in the room, but I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t please him how I was meant to and I ran...” I trail off, looking straight at Santiago. “That’s when I ran into you. I lied saying I had to get his clothes, but in actual fact, I was fleeing because I couldn’t do it.”
“Since when did you stop enjoying it?”
This is it – the moment of penance. Whatever I say will incriminate me or him, and I’m not in the habit of pointing accusations at a man with such promise for Joaquín and his every intention. Even when I can see he’s anything but another man for Joaquín to order. I’ve seen too much hurt and pain here to allow anyone else to endure any of it – I’ll take this. They’ve tried, but they will never completely break me, this won’t either.
Javier was gentle and caring. I will not see him punished for showing an ounce of care for a stranger. I will not have him hurt for not wanting to be a rapist.
I’m stupid for it, but as I swallow, suppressing my oncoming nerves, I stand by my own decision.
After all, at heart, I am a good person.
This place won’t rip that from me.
“I knew he was going to be rough with me. I saw him fight,” I argue, my voice becoming shrill as I attempt to be convincing. “I couldn’t allow him a chance with me. I couldn’t face what he might do to me if I allowed him.”
“Puta, you don’t get to be scared in this place,” Joaquín speaks so softly, but I can hear that slow burn of anger igniting the butt of every single syllable. “You’ve been through the scariest of fucking things you could ever imagine in this life...”
“I know,” I say, my head sinking forward.
“Too late to realize,” he muses and my head shoots up. “I don’t fucking care for damage control,” Joaquín condemns me as he looks to his son, his eyes laced with venom. “Punish her and we forget this nightly meeting by morning.”
“I’m gonna fucking enjoy this,” Santiago comments, crunching his knuckles so the joints bite in preparation. “I wouldn’t tense up if I were you, Isla.”
The shock of hearing my first name on his lips surprises me enough to not tense. His fist connects with my jaw, my body flies from its knelt position across the courtyard, instantly bringing a tear to my eyes. Pain explodes in my face, but it’s quickly masked as I feel Santiago’s foot connect with my stomach. I can’t help the howl of pain and I attempt to protect myself, but it’s futile. As I turn, it gives him newer places to attack and he does. I feel a swift kick to my ribs, collapsing entirely as more tears fall. I cough, gasping for the air forced out of my lungs. My struggle doesn’t dampen his assault. Instead, he continues, seemingly getting harder and harsher.
“Thought we decided against beating her?” Hector calls out from the sideline. “I thought we knew the damage this could do to her!”
“That was before she became a lying piece of shit,” Santiago snarls, landing another kick, this time directly at my kidney. I cough against the brutality as I fall flat on the dusty floor. “She deserves no mercy.”
As I lay, dazed by the pain, I cannot help but think about the irony they all preach with.
I deserve no mercy?
Javier was the first man in over two years to offer any and I knew that enjoying it would end in punishment. I told him they would know because they always find out. I didn’t know mercy until he refused me and even then I mocked the man for it. Now, catapulted into a painful hell, I wish I had enjoyed it while I had it there in front of me.
“Stop!” Joaquín shouts out, and I slow my breathing waiting to see what will come. “Santiago, stop!”
“What now?” Santiago asks, grasping my hair in his hands so he can hold me up as if to show me off. “Think she’s learned her lesson?”
“Yes,” Joaquín grants, scrutinizing me for a moment. I can feel the blood on my nose, the tenderness on my jaw, but with that my ribs and abdomen scream with pain. “First thing in the morning the new girls get brought up,” he muses, standing from his throne. “It’s a hell of a week for new recruits!” Joaquín states, rubbing his hands together in glee. “Get Eighteen to bed, she’s going to be put on show to scare them into submission.”
“You’re someone else’s fucking issue now, puta!” he spits at me and throws me down onto the floor.
I don’t move as he starts to move away from me. If anything, I feel like my punishment wasn’t long enough. It was over as soon as it started regardless of how long it felt for me. So I lay, face against the dust covered floor and even my breathing.
“Isla!” Chloe yells, pushing through the girls to get to me. “C’mon,” she says, helping me stand up. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”
As I feel Lydia take my other side, the girls encircle me, protectively so. We walk slowly beginning to leave, and as we walk passed Hector and Javier, I feel their eyes on me, worried about what just happened. I don’t hesitate. Without paying any more attention, I continue walking. Once we’re back into our room, Chloe helps me onto the closest bed, while some of the girls run to our bathroom to get the first aid kit. It’s at this moment, where the pain may be rife, but I’m reminded why I fight to stay alive here.
It’s all for
family – the connotation has morphed into something far stronger than ever.
Sometimes, it’s not about blood.
Sometimes it’s about those who don’t leave your side.
The only escape we’re allowed here is off a cliff ledge. Literally.
Joaquín always jokes that it’s our only escape. A lot of girls have taken it, but I don’t. I often teeter on the edge but never go over. I’m not sure exactly what it is that really keeps me here, keeps me from doing the unthinkable.
I guess that one last sliver of hope I thought I had lost, still glimmers away within me.
I wrap my arms around my chest, protecting my tender ribs as I walk out into the night, across the courtyard and toward the open gateway. My head hangs low, my breathing cautious so not to awaken more pain from the beating. I couldn’t sleep, so instead of lying awake, I decided to come out here. I only start to look up when I hear the exhale of air and catch sight of Javier smoking while looking across the canyon behind the house. He turns to face me as I stop mid-step.
“Sorry,” I say, my voice hoarse.
Javier just stares at me for a moment, his face aghast as he takes in what the beating has done to me. I’m battered and bruised, but I’m still alive and that’s the blessing here.
“I can go back inside,” I comment softly, pointing back over my shoulder. “I really didn’t think anyone would still be up.”
“No, it’s fine,” he says, placing the cigarette between his lips again. I watch him take a drag, his chest expanding to fill his lungs with the nicotine-filled smoke before he takes the butt of the cigarette away and allows all of that smoke out. “You look like hell.”
I smile weakly at his comment, but don’t speak. Instead, I veer off a little and head toward the cliff edge. I feel him stiffen, but I stop and gingerly begin to lower my body to the ground. I sit with my legs hanging off the edge of the cliff and I sense Javier lingering behind me. I don't say anything; allowing him to decide what to do. I know he has to decide between coming down to my level or being one of the men and dragging me back inside.
I decide to make the option easier.
"The closer to the root you grab my hair, the less it'll hurt," I comment, moving my head only a little to look over my shoulder. "Just wrap your hand as tightly as possible..."
"I'm not going to drag you back inside," he states, stepping closer. "Why is your first opinion of me that I'm going to hurt you?"
I snort. Is this guy for real? I won't lie, I have to admit he's giving me whiplash and a deep-rooted sense of unease. I'm just waiting for the moment he snaps, dropping the other foot, and shows himself as yet another member of the El Salvador.
"I get it. All those bastards have had their way with you for Christ knows how long, but please realize, some of us aren't here for a daily fuck. We’re here for a job."
I look at him, an incredulous look on my face. I can’t work him out and it scares me that he’s so unreadable. Every man comes in with his greedy intentions and greedier hands to match.
So what is it that makes Javier Santos different?
"See that's the thing," I start, pausing momentarily to turn gingerly and look at him. "This isn't a job you settle into with a pension. I have seen so many men come and go with that same dream, but do you know what happens to them?" I ask him, narrowing my gaze a little upon him. "They die, Javier. There is so much fucked up shit that goes on that you wouldn't believe and men with your state of mind do not make it far!"
“That’s what you think,” he chides, grinning at me as he argues the point. “You think you know. I’ve seen how you look at me, you think you have me down and you know all about me, but let me tell you now, cariño, I’m going to be the one you like the most.”
This is it – I don’t know. I can’t for the life of me work him out. Why he has that opinion of me, I’ll never know.
I glare at him, trying not to let his calming advance penetrate my heart. I’ve strived to become what I am – a shell of a human but ever the survivor. He speaks with such a different note, I can feel myself falling fool to his every word, but what good will that do me? I can’t believe a pretty face and a convincing tone and I won’t.
“Just know I’m not here to be brutal with you.”
“Don’t be disappointed if I don’t believe you,” I muse, looking up at him. “Men in this place have a track record. I only believe what I know now.”
“Then I guess, I can’t wait to shock you,” he replies, taking a thoughtful drag on his cigarette, smiling around the butt as he does so. “Tell me,” he starts, before breathing out the smoke. “Are you always out here alone?”
I nod, subconsciously, I wrap my arms around myself and peer out into the darkness before me.
“And you’re allowed?”
“Yup,” I state simply. “Where is there to go but over the edge?” I ask, forcing him to take in the surrounding area. “The only way is down, Javier.”
I gaze up and to my right, watching him step closer to the edge. He looks down into the chasm below. I continue to watch, taking in his expression, and struggling to work him out. He’s so unreadable, only giving enough of himself to confuse a girl.
“How many have gone over by choice?” he asks, stepping back to look at me.
I shrug as I start to recount. “A few,” I mutter, keeping my attention on the black valley below us. “A lot of people have gone over as punishment.”
“Nice,” he muses, falling backward away from the edge. “You okay, by the way?”
“Me?” I squeak, looking up and he gives me a pointed look. “I’m fine. It’s not the worst thing to happen. You kinda just take these things in your stride.”
“Still doesn’t mean I want to watch it happen,” he says, yet again offering a softer side to himself.
“Sorry to disappoint you, Javier, but you’ll see it a lot more between now and whenever your job here is over.”
I strive to be sensible around him, but there is something about Javier that trips me up every time. He’s been here for a few days and I know he has a lot to prove, but the longer I’m in his presence, the more I’m sure that he’s not here for the same reason other men join the El Salvador. I enjoy talking back at him and arguing his point. I’m not meant to enjoy that because usually that comes served with a punishment.
When he comes and sits beside me, I look away from the dark valley and purposefully don’t speak.
“Isla, hey?”
“Secret’s out,” I muse, my voice is soft. I notice now how my jaw begins to ache. “You have to call me Eighteen, though. Whatever they call me, you call me. I’m not Isla here.”
“Sure, you are,” he jests, giving me a playful wink. “You’re as much Isla, as I am Javier.”
I shake my head sadly. He can keep saying that until he’s blue in the face and the sun rises, but it’s simply not true. I lost myself so long ago and a stranger like him is not going to help find me. I find myself the day I die because that’s the end game here. I’m on a time limit. I’m one of many who has an expiration date where Joaquín is concerned.
When I’ve served my time, done my job and pleased them enough, my life is over.
“I think I forgot who Isla was a long time ago,” I mutter and feel the burn of tears in my eyes. Telling myself to get a grip, I sniff back the tears, but it’s futile. “I’m going to go back to bed.”
I begin to push away from the edge, preparing to get up and flee. Running from this talk is better than having it.
“I plan to be a few people’s downfall,” he admits, stalling me from leaving. “Just so you know, Isla, I plan to be more than any fucker in this place ever could imagine being. I’m not here to lose, only gain. But just believe me, my intent is nothing like theirs. Everything I am to Joaquín is a lie.”
What the actual fuck?
In all the time I've been here, I have never - and I mean never - met a man like Javier. He plays the game as good as the rest, but now he's claiming it's
all a lie.
"Might want to shut your mouth, cariño," he tells me, a cheeky grin on his lips. “I don’t even know why I’m telling you this. For all I know I could be hung, drawn and quartered by morning for telling you a thing.”
“You won’t be,” I quickly squawk, hating myself for the rashness. “You'll have to forgive me for finding you the scariest here now,” I tell him, my retort quite sharply put. “Men like you don't exist in a world like this one. Trust me, I have met all manner of men and you are just trying to fool me into thinking you're one of a kind. There is no way you can lie to Joaquín and keep it a secret.”
“Just watch me, cariño,” he utters, tossing me a sideways grin.
“You’re insane,” I tell him and while I want nothing more than to stay and question him, I have to get up and run.
I want to believe in his words, but that’s a dangerous game to start dabbling in and I’m not prepared to put myself in the heat again. My heart is pounding in fierce, uncontrollable gallops. I told myself never to believe a word that any man speaks in this hell hole of a house. If he says you're pretty, he just wants into your panties. If he tells you how he could get you out, he just wants into your panties. And if he tells you he has an agenda... well, Javier doesn't want into my panties, so what does he want?
I stop in the gateway that leads into the courtyard. I turn and look back, Javier's back is to me as he now stares up into the starry sky. He looks deep in thought and in the moonlight I find he's the most beautiful thing I've seen in a long time.
That's the fool in me speaking, of course, I quickly chastise myself. I taught myself not to trust a man ever again; Javier will not be any different.
Javier will prove himself to be a wolf in sheep’s clothing sooner rather than later.
I know I should follow her, but in doing so means we run the risk of being caught.
My presence here has already seen her be beaten and I have no intention of doing anything to cause a second round of attacks. However, it does add fuel to my hate fire. I’d be a stupid man to make myself believe I’m here for a job. I know Isla’s right; no one comes here for a job.
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