“We thought we’d do this, so you can pack more drugs away. Instead of just filling you girls up that is. If this works, it may become a regular,” Santiago muses, looking at me with a clipped look. “Put a top on and you’ll see how real it’ll look.”
I do as he says quickly gathering my top and putting it back on and stand back facing them both, Santiago directly in front of me. I hate the way he’s looking at me, as if I’m owned by him or something. I guess in a way I am. I’m owned by him as much as I am Joaquín – I’m their property. Instinctively, my hands go back to the fake bump, supporting the weight of it and I wonder if this is what it would really feel like. Obviously, I’m not a genius but I’m sure whatever amount of cocaine is filling this doesn’t quite equate to a baby, but I could image the weight of bearing your own child. It’s as if my actions cause Santiago to move. He approaches me, only stopping when he’s directly in front of me.
“This could’ve been you,” Santiago comments, a humorous note blazes in his tone as his hand comes up to move the loose strands of my hair that frame my face. “Maybe we should’ve let you keep it, then we could’ve made this real authentic. You’d have known how to carry it, how to behave, how to look naturally maternal.”
I close my eyes, his touch disgusting me even more than ever. I can feel the burn of tears starting up, the feel of them scorching the back of my throat, tingling in my nose. It’s no lie this is difficult for me, but for reasons some in this place will never come to understand.
“A baby in this place would’ve been fucking comical,” he sneers, chuckling. Suddenly his voice changes and the malicious tone he brandishes on a regular basis come back to life in its every vehement octave. “You’re the first and last girl that mistake will ever happen to. This is the closest you’ll get to being able to feel your belly so full of a child,” He places his hands on the bump, forcing me to take more torture from this moment than already being pressed upon my shoulders. “Now, I suggest you eat those remaining pellets and get your fucking ass down to the car. This is going to be the smoothest run in weeks, got it?”
“Got it,” I mutter, allowing him to leave me.
When I look up, Javier is standing to my right, watching over me with a pained expression. I sniff, lifting my hand to wipe away the stray tears gathering on my lashes and head on over to the bowl left on the side. Grabbing my drink, I make quick work to swallow the few remaining pellets left. Santiago had interrupted me earlier, showing me the new game plan, but now I’m more than eager to leave than ever before.
“Isla,” he starts, but I shake my head, stopping him.
“Don’t,” I state, taking the final drug filled pellet and place it in my mouth. I chase it down with some water and look straight at Javier, my shoulders squared, my emotions forgotten. “We have a job to do.”
There’s a moment where he continues to give me such a sympathetic gaze I think I may break once again in his presence, but I steel myself, harden myself to the memories and give him a smile. As if knowing I’m okay even for one second, his expression softens and all at once he becomes sterner, morphs back into my protector.
“We don’t want them waiting,” he murmurs, nodding to the door. “Lead the way...” he says, putting his hand out there.
I nod, licking my lips in anticipation before leaving. I begin to brace myself, my hand falling onto the bump, nursing it and holding onto as if I’m carrying life, when in actual fact, I’m carrying hundreds of grams of cocaine. Irony strokes at my conscience for a moment, reminding me that cocaine is a killer and I’m here so full of life, having to act like an expectant mother.
We walk in silence, slowly stepping toward the noise in the back of the house. As we reach the outside, all eyes fall upon me and I feel my heart start to slow to heavy thuds in my hollow chest. Each beat mirrors each step I take as I walk out with a bulging stomach and a cast down gaze.
“Finally!” Joaquín yells, causing me to look up. “Eighteen, you look perfect.”
“I don’t think she does,” Javier announces, cutting into the moment
“What?” I say, turning around to face him.
He never said anything upstairs, now he’s voicing it in public, in front of the boss, in front of everyone waiting for us to leave. My heart beat increases as I feel sweat begin to gather on my forehead, around the back of my neck and my hands begin to shake. I second guess Javier’s every intention in that one instant and I hate myself for letting him see even a sliver of myself.
“Yeah, what the fuck?” Santiago asks, coming to stand beside me. “She looks the part! The perra looks pregnant, just how we wanted it.”
“It’s not about that,” Javier counters, arguing back with a simple tone. “But I thought I’d make this really authentic,” Javier announces, his eyes settling on me after using Santiago’s term. “Thought if we’re going to play games we better do it right.”
I furrow my brow the longer I listen to him talk, wondering what it is he’s getting at.
“Go on...” Joaquín states, looking at Javier as if he’s going insane. “What do you have planned?”
Reaching into his pocket, Javier pulls out two rings and my confusion magnifies.
“I thought we’d play a married couple to scale back any suspicions both at the border and at the hotel. That looks less weird than a young pregnant unmarried woman traveling with a Mexican man. If we play a couple, it just looks like we’re doing any other road trip vacation.”
I turn back, my eyes seek out Joaquín, expecting to see something in him that says Javier has hit a whole new high in lunacy, but that’s not what I see. Instead, Joaquín’s face transcends from stony to bright and expressive.
“Men!” he declares, his voice bold with a sudden rush of pride. “This is why we seek high and low for our new members! You’ll do good to take notice of Javier and his smart approach. It’s all about the little details that impress me most!” Turning to Javier, he gives him a bright smile. “You’re moving up faster in my ranks and my estimations, Santos. Keep proving yourself to me and you could be my most promising recruit.”
“I want these runs to start working out perfectly,” Javier says, his voice carries clearly and confidently. “If I have to play a married man then so be it, I’ll play a married man.”
“It helps you want to fuck her,” Santiago mutters, scornful of the moment. “You act like her fucking protector and draw her in.”
“Someone has to protect your girls,” Javier remarks, unnerved by Santiago’s attack. “I’ve shown I’d do that for all of you when those bastards stormed this place! If protecting your girls while here is all I have to do to be a good member then I’ll do just that,” I notice how his eyes darken, narrowing on Santiago. “Maybe you should remember that without any of those girls you wouldn’t be sitting pretty waiting for your father’s throne and his riches.”
There isn’t even a second break before Santiago reacts, taking a step forward, his rage palpable.
“I oughtta kill you, Santos!” he yells, charging, but his father grabs him quickly.
“Love to see you try,” Javier dares, unmoved by the threat.
“STOP!” Joaquín bellows, holding his son back. “You are not going to fight before a fucking run. Are you completely stupid?” Joaquín asks, throwing his son backward. “You get too reckless, boy. You think with your fists and not your head.”
“Is that why you love the new kid?” Santiago queries, petulantly. “He’ll fall before the rest of us. I can guarantee you that now.”
“Don’t write off men I put my faith in,” Joaquín admonishes, his voice becoming dangerously low. “Don’t you dare second guess my better judgment. He fought for his spot in this family. Unlike you, he made himself known. You were born into this life, you don’t have to prove yourself to anyone, but I’m starting to think you need to start to show me I can leave all this in good hands.”
As to add insult, Joaquín puts his hands out, circling around to show off all th
e men, all the girls, and all the acres of land we stand on.
Santiago rubs his jaw, laughing incredulously at his father’s words. I can tell what it is he’s thinking right now, he’s not good at hiding his feelings. He’s feeling duped and by a newcomer no less. For that reason, he’s feeling like a fool because his father has now openly chosen Javier over his own flesh and blood.
“You’d be a fool to put your faith entirely in him,” Santiago scorns.
“Give me a reason to put my faith back in you,” Joaquín challenges, daring his son with no qualms. “Show me you can keep this kingdom of mine standing,” he tests his son but doesn’t leave him time to accept. Instead, Joaquín’s face changes entirely. “For now, the girls need to go.”
I don’t stand around or wait for my orders, I head over to the car waiting for us and clamber into the front passenger seat. I look over my shoulder and find two of the youngest girls already strapped in looking scared witless. They’re from the newest batch of girls and it breaks my heart to realize that Joaquín didn’t wait to put them to work.
Silently, I send a prayer.
If Javier and Hector make it back with all of us intact, it’ll be a miracle.
“We’ve presented you with a little test,” Joaquín states, as he stands by my open window. I watch him and slowly his eyes begin trailing to the backseat. “As you can tell you have two new girls to watch. Javier, you bring them home, you could be in for quite the reward. The girls in the other car are old timers, they know the drill. Isla, you need to keep these two in line. Prove yourself to me again.”
I turn in my seat, the straps of the fake bump biting a little, but I look into the faces of the girls I have to keep a watchful eye on and protect the best I can in this world. Both look at me, their contrasting eye colors blink back at me, fear lacing the delicate hues and I give them a small smile before turning back to Joaquín.
“They were apparently well-behaved for the last cartel they were in, but I want to see where they rank with you lot,” his gaze intensifies upon me and I nod, offering a smile of assurance. “Keep them safe, Eighteen, and bring them home with you and the others.”
“Don’t worry,” I begin to say, my voice light. “We’ll all be home.”
“That’s what like I hear,” he says and takes a considerable step away from the car. “Right, off you go!”
I cringe as he bangs a flat palm onto the roof of the car as if to signal the start of a race.
And just like that, the gates open, the engines start, and we go back off for a brand new job, led by Hector and his men.
I shake the solution into bottles of water, mixing them up to make sure the mixture dilutes enough. I watch the white deposits start to dissolve, hoping that this will do the trick. We’re not even settled, but I’m already prepared to get the drugs to Hector so the heat is no longer on us.
“What is this?” Javier asks, coming up behind me, picking up one of the bottles with a milky solution in it.
“Well, Joaquín made Chloe and Sasha swallow thirty of the balloons, they’ll need to pass them. Same as the two new girls,” I say setting one of the bottles next to the two others I’ve already made. “Joaquín gives us a laxative type of powder he had made to help us, you know, pass them... I added more to make sure we don’t have a mishap like on the last run. Thomas, the chemist Joaquín uses gave us a dosage, but I upped it a little, after Jenny.”
“What did happen on that last run?”
I look at him, his big brown eyes gaze down at me and I sigh heavily as the memories escape with full throttle effect. I feel the words begin to build, clogging my throat uncomfortably. I swallow hard, looking at the bottles, I realize they’ll buy me a little more time before I have to delve into remembering.
“Get these to the girls and I’ll tell you. I just want to make sure the girls are safe first.”
“Any other instructions I need to pass on?” he asks, picking up four of the bottles.
“Sasha and Chloe will know what to do. They can keep an eye on the other girls for me,” I say, offering a small smile. “And I want them to come straight to me when they have all the balloons and not before. I’ll go to them if it’s been too long.”
I watch him head to the door, disappearing quickly. I know I should start to drink my own bottle of murky white liquid, help the process, but for once, the idea terrifies me. I keep seeing Jenny, gutted on the floor after my feeble attempt to help her and I hate myself for feeling like one of the lucky ones.
From out of nowhere, the grief and guilt are crippling.
That hollow pit in me that ebbed in the midnight hours but never made a real impact flares to life, taking me captive with it.
I turn the television on, dragging a pillow onto my lap as I sit straighter against the headboard all in an attempt to distract my thoughts. Usually, educating myself on current affairs about the ‘outside world’ causes me to fall away from the real facts about my life. It’s this time that I keep myself connected to the world beyond the cartel, but today I’m not enthralled by the news, but rather the memories attacking me.
“Isla?” Javier asks, breaking into my thoughts and tearing me away from them. When I give a small smile, he comes closer, sitting on the end of the bed, opposite me. “Was what Santiago said earlier true?” Javier asks, leaning toward me, showing he’s completely invested in knowing.
I look down, my hands suddenly wringing one another. In quick succession, my vision blurs and I’m sniffling back the onslaught of salty tears gathering. I can tell that I don’t need to speak any-more, but curiosity and a need to seek comfort has me spilling all the details. He needs to know the men he works beside in every possible light.
And I need to find myself an ally.
This man wants answers to some things that bring up such a pain, it’s unbearable, but I know that this could be cheap therapy.
“It happened about a year ago,” I start, begging myself to look him in the eyes as I tell him this, but the courage isn’t found so easily. “I’d already been with them all well over a year, it wasn’t anything new. It’s always the same song and dance... sex and drugs, more sex,” finally, my bravado kicks in, allowing me to look up. “I missed a period and started to be sick so I went to Santiago because Joaquín wouldn’t respond well to that sort of predicament but Santiago didn’t react much better. He ordered someone to get pregnancy tests in and they all came back positive.”
“So what happened?” he asks, leaning even closer.
I take a moment before I brave telling him this. Javier’s soft gaze is my undoing and I crumble, my words finding a life of their own to fall free.
“He threw me down a flight of stairs the very moment he found me on my own,” I inhale a deep breath, trying hard not break on him. “He said he was doing it for his father, but I knew he just couldn’t handle the idea of having a child in this world, much less risk it taking his spot as his father’s prized possession.”
“He killed the baby?”
I bite my lip before nodding. It’s more of an attempt to stop me from breaking down over the matter, but I know I have to tell him the whole story. The effect Javier has on my damaged soul is cathartic. I feel I can profess my every scar no matter how far they run emotionally, and he’ll not look away or treat me like a monster.
“It didn’t help matters that beforehand they couldn’t tell who the father was, no one owned up to it,” I give a weak smile, remembering that time in my life. “I knew Santiago was the father, he was the only one stupid enough not to use protection. He knew it was his, too. He broke rule number one. Never sleep with a girl without protection and he didn’t want to own up to it and I certainly wasn’t going to put myself up for the slaughter by pointing a finger.”
“So he broke his own father’s code?”
“Yeah,” I murmur softly back. “He was off his face on cocaine, he didn’t care what he was doing as long as he got some. I didn’t have a chance to stop him or suggest getting a con
dom. He threw me on the floor, tore my panties away and raped me. He came, got up and left me there.”
“So why didn’t you tell Joaquín that?”
“Because Santiago took care of the problem before I got a chance,” I wipe the back of my hand under my eyes, ridding the tears as quickly as they start to fall. “Santiago doesn’t want an heir, he doesn’t want any children. Not until he’s taken his father’s place anyway. Most of all, he didn’t want to own up to the fact he had fucked up and with me no less.”
“And you’ve never told anyone?” Javier asks, his eyes so gentle on me.
“Never,” I reply, steadying my gaze on him. “It’s how it will stay too.”
“That bastard deserves everything he gets. I’ll fucking show him he can’t be like he is. He can’t get away with this.”
I move, placing my hands on top of his, stopping him mid sentence. I shake my head, gulping deeply as I force him to stop his tirade. There’s a moment of silence, both for two reasons. He’s waiting for me to speak; I’m waiting for the words to come to me.
“Santiago gets away with murder,” I start to say, deciding to just be honest. “Pushing me down a flight of stairs is hardly his worst atrocity,” I notice how painful that comment is for Javier to hear and give him a small smile. “Things like what Santiago does come with the job, Javier. It’s why I just get on with it. I can’t leave, I won’t leave, so I endure everything they offer.”
“But why?” Javier asks and I notice how naive he really is to my place in the El Salvador.
“Because if I show strength, the girls take from it,” I admit softly, my voice becoming hoarse. “Every time one of those girls dies, I take note of their hope dwindling. Whereas, each death just reminds me that this day could be my last. I would rather fight until that final breath than die thinking I could’ve done something more to make this life easier on the girls around me.”
“Is that why they all practically swarm to you?” he asks and I nod. “I never expected to meet a woman like you here, Isla,” he comments meekly, a hand slipping away from mine to come and caress my jaw with the backs of his fingers. I close my eyes as his fingers trail my skin and I endure the tender touch with enjoyment. I barely remember what these moments feel like, so I bask in this, close my eyes and will it to stay, but Javier’s voice brings me back. “I don’t know who I quite expected to meet when I got off that bus, but you were never anything I could’ve imagined.”
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