by Karina Halle
I heard him open the box and start to fish around for something. Metal clinked against glass. Things that sounded sharp. I suppressed a shiver and wondered if now was the time to act. If this would be my chance.
As he searched for something, I slowly, quietly, got to my feet, staying hunched over, and walked sideways along the wall. I knew the room inside out by now, knew where the bed was and the small armchair, the beside table. If I could get to the door without him noticing, then I could attack, as long as he didn’t attack me first.
I didn’t have much in the way of weapons. But I did have chicken bones that I’d broken apart until I found the sharpest, hardest shards. I’d then wrapped them all together into a short spear, with torn strips of my old nightgown.
It wasn’t much, but I also had rage and the basic human need for survival.
He wasn’t human, so he couldn’t have that. And I wouldn’t let him take it from me.
“Quiet these days, aren’t we?” Esteban asked. The sound of the box slammed shut. I paused near the bed, my hands guiding me along it. I could almost hear him fiddling with something in his hands, though I had no idea what it could be. A knife but … more complicated than that.
There wasn’t much else to my plan other than fighting my way out by either killing or maiming him and then hoping I could have an easy escape. It was just as likely that I’d die out there, by the hands of his crew that enjoyed torturing me and defiling me just as much as he did. But on the chance that I could get out alive, I didn’t know where my feet would carry me.
The truth was, after everything was said and done, I would do what I could to get back to Javier. I would go to Puente Grande and beg to see him, just for a moment, knowing full well he would hate me. Possibly even kill me. But even though I was sure he wouldn’t believe me when I told him I never wanted any of this, I at least had to let him know. He was still everything I had and I never did any of the horrible things I did because I stopped loving him.
How fucking pathetic was I? I was hiding in the dark from a psychotic torturer, plotting my escape, and my heart kept clinging to love.
Javier would have been so disappointed in me.
“You know, Luisa,” Esteban went on, slowly. Though his tone was edgier now, his voice was still aimed at the spot I used to be. He thought I was still sitting there in the dark. I wondered how long it would take for his eyes to adjust or if he’d mistaken the dark shadows for me. “Everything good thing must come to an end. You must think of yourself as a good thing, don’t you? After all you were the beauty queen of San Jose del Cabo. That must have done wonders for your self-esteem, for your impression of your own life. Didn’t it?”
I kept my breathing as quiet as possible and started along the bed again. It was agonizing going so slow but I knew I couldn’t mess it up by being impatient.
“Such a beauty they must have called you,” he said. I heard his footsteps, now right across from me but heading toward the wall. “That’s how you caught the eye of Salvador Reyes, isn’t it? You were so damn fucking pretty that he had to make you his wife.” His voice become lower, almost a conspiratorial whisper. “Don’t you know that if you didn’t have your beauty, you wouldn’t be worth anything to anyone at all? Do you think Javier would have been so enraptured by you if you were fat and ugly, if your body at all reflected the kind of person you really are? No, of course not. But you got another free pass in your life’s ride, while everyone else in this country suffers.”
He was baiting me, getting me to snap back, to say something that would give him an excuse to beat me, even though he could find an excuse in anything. I had to literally bite my tongue, thick and swollen from lack of water, to prevent myself from saying what I really wanted to. Esteban must have grown up so damn jealous of everyone around him that it didn’t matter what sex you were, he wanted what you had and he felt entitled to take it.
“It’s not fair, Luisa,” he said and now his voice was cracking with anger. “It’s not fair that you got to have everything you did. And loving parents too? How fucking dare you!” He paused then took in a deep breath. When he spoke again, he was calmer. Ice. “I took Javier away from you. I took your cartel, your purpose. I’ll take your parents soon, too. But now, tonight, I’m taking away something you never deserved to have. Your beauty.”
My eyes widened as I heard the sharp scrape of rusty scissors being yanked open.
“Now are you going to be a good little girl or what?” he asked as he ran blindly forward, his footsteps echoing loudly.
I moved as quickly and quietly as I could, willing myself not to panic, to make noise, but it was hard when he yelled, “Where are you, you little bitch!?” and began to run around the edge of the room.
I heard him bump into the bed, swearing and grunting angrily, too close now for comfort. I had to run for it.
I started for the door, guided by the light underneath it and went for the lock. My hands groped for it, my heart on fire and nerves alight as panic threatened to consume me. I clumsily found the handle, then tried to place where the lock would be but by the time my fingers closed over it, it was too late.
Esteban was behind me and stabbed the scissors down into my shoulder, slicing through flesh, muscle, bone. An image of the chicken I ate flashed in my eyes, the way their bones could break, but it also reminded me of what I had in my hands.
Instead of screaming, I took that energy in and whirled around stabbing wildly with my spear, hoping to get him in the face. The end of it went into a soft spot of skin, maybe the lower throat and he let out an enraged yelp as it stuck in.
Before I could do anymore damage, he decked me in the face until I flew back against the wall, my face exploding in stars of pain.
I wouldn’t let it keep me down. I scrambled to all fours, staying low and went at him, going for where his legs should be. One knee grazed my chin but I was able to wrap my hands around the other one, my nails turning into makeshift claws and I dug them into his skin as deep as possible. He screamed and tried to shake me off but not before I jerked my head down and bit into the back of his calf, tearing my teeth in, wanting to take out a chunk.
I had become a feral, wild beast.
I had to do everything to survive.
I felt the blood run down my chin, tasted his tainted flesh. I was holding on tight, digging my incisors in, more, more, more, but then his hand was in my hair and he was yanking me back away from him until I was on my back on the floor.
Everything spun but I knew I couldn’t let it stop me. I tried to get back up but then his elbow was driving down into my collarbone, trying to break it and his other hand was repeatedly banging my head into the floor.
“You fucking bitch, you fucking bitch!” he kept muttering over and over again like a man possessed, until finally he stopped. I couldn’t even move. I felt completely paralyzed from the head down, a sitting fucking duck who was about to have her own feathers plucked.
He briefly crawled off of me, heading across the room and that’s when I knew I had to run again, I could try again to escape, and if I got to the door, it was unlocked and I would make it out.
I was so close.
But I couldn’t. I didn’t know what he had done to me but I just couldn’t move a muscle, no matter how hard I fought past the haze, no matter how hard I concentrated, willing my body to respond.
It felt as dead as the rest of me.
I’d never been more frightened, more helpless, more alone, in all my sorry life.
I hadn’t wanted to cry at all with Esteban, I told myself I wouldn’t shed one tear in front of him. I wouldn’t give him the pleasure of what he was doing to me.
But now, now the fear was so real as I lay there, naked and broken in the darkness, bleeding, paralyzed. It came for me at once and the tears fell from my eyes, sliding down the sides of my face to the floor.
I was so sad. So damn sad.
This was how I was going to die and I was going to suffer for a long time before I
did.
At least I tried.
I tried.
I fucking tried to live, I tried my damn hardest.
I made a million and one mistakes but I still tried.
God, I wished I didn’t have to die alone and in pain.
I wished Javier was here with me.
I tried to bring the image of him in my vision. Like the feather against my skin, I hoped it would trick me enough to bring me strength to die with dignity, to endure what horror was to come. I hoped it would erase the fear. The sorrow that filled me up, a well of seeping black drops.
Then a light went on in my face, my eyes squeezed shut in response and Esteban chuckled.
“You’re crying?” Esteban said mockingly as he came back over to me. “The little girl is crying? You fucking pathetic little cunt, I haven’t even given you anything to cry about yet.”
I heard the scissors being picked up in his hand and he kneeled beside me. He grabbed my hair and began slicing through my strands. His movements were rough, the scissors dull even though they razed my skull in places and I felt the blood spill down my face and neck.
“You won’t look pretty after this,” he said, going around my head until he was apparently satisfied. My head felt lighter, colder, without all my hair which now lay on the ground around me. I felt like I should have lost a part of myself, if only I hadn’t lost myself already.
Please move, move! I yelled at myself, at my body. Please, please, please. Try!
“Hmmm,” Esteban mused. I didn’t have to open my eyes to know he was looking over me. “You’re not as ugly as you should be. Hair can grow back, can’t it? I should know, mine comes in quite fast. I have to get it trimmed every few months.”
His blasé words floated over me, having no bearing. I was lost inside my head, in a life or death battle for control of my body.
Almost, almost, almost. I willed every muscle to react. I tried to imagine every nerve coming alive. I couldn’t be paralyzed, I had to be stunned. But my body was stubborn. It didn’t seem to understand what was happening, it wasn’t connecting with the adrenaline that could save me.
Esteban took the scissors and trailed them from my collarbone, down the scar his men had left last week when they gang raped me, over to my breast.
“I could cut this off,” he said softly and he scraped the blade over my nipple.
Move, move, move.
“No man would want you after that,” he said, bringing the blade back over again until I could feel it cut. It was shallow but it was a warning of what was to come.
Please, please, move.
“Or I could take a chunk out myself with my own teeth. Chew up your fat. Spit it back out at you.”
He was more than depraved now. He’d officially gone mad with his own brutality. He’d gone insane.
He continued. “It’s only fair. You got my leg pretty good. Luckily I’m used to scars. But you don’t have enough. Just the one on your back.”
The one that said Javier.
Javier.
Javier would be so angry at me for giving up like this, for letting Esteban win.
“But men would have to get you naked in order to be repulsed. You could live your life a beauty as long as that didn’t happen, as long as you stayed an untouchable queen. And I can’t let that happen. We’ve come so far and what sort of patron would I be if I didn’t do my worst? What kind of message would that send to everyone else?”
I felt him lift away from me slightly, taking the scissors with him. I didn’t dare breathe out in relief. There would be no relief here.
I opened my eyes and looked at him, lit up in a cold glow by the screen of his phone which lay on the floor. He was reaching beside him and bringing up a metal jar with a peeling label.
Acid.
Sulfuric acid.
No, no, no.
But his eyes said yes and he quickly unscrewed the jar, holding it out above my stomach. He tipped it slightly and the liquid fell out in a single splash.
For a moment it was like I didn’t feel anything, for a moment I thought I was free, but that’s only because the pain was too much for my senses to bear.
Then it hit like a freight train of fire.
I screamed until my throat felt like it was being ripped raw as the acid ate away at my skin, a small but deadly puddle on my stomach.
“I’m sorry,” Esteban said loudly, trying to be heard above my anguished cries. “But you know you deserve this. Luisa, you really do.”
He moved the jar up to my face. “And this is where it’s really going to hurt. Your beauty, your lazy power, gone. Forever.”
I watched in horror at his cold green eyes. I watched at the small smile on his lips. I watched as his hand moved slightly and the jar tipped, the acid running to the edge of the rim.
I turned my head, pinching my eyes shut in time for the acid to hit my left cheekbone, crying out again as my whole head felt as if it erupted in flames. It was as if the acid was burning a black hole into my head, into my heart, into my soul.
And somewhere deep inside me, deeper than the acid could go, my mind and body connected. The adrenaline pumped through me in one hard burst, kicking in like a jump-start.
I moved before I could even think. I reached out, knocking the acid out of his hands and then with strength I didn’t even know existed in me, I leaped on top of him, pressing his head back into the acid on the ground. He yelped as the acid made contact, burning through his hair and I knew I had nothing more than a split second before he threw me off of him.
I swiped up the scissors from the ground beside me, making a fist around the handle, and plunged them straight down into his left eyeball.
It didn’t even make me squeamish, not even as the eyeball bulged around the blades as they pierced through it. I just yelled, a crazed battle cry, in his face as I stabbed him.
Unfortunately I didn’t have enough strength or time to push it all the way into his skull and brain.
My time had run out.
Esteban screamed in horrific agony and pushed me off of him. I did what I could to crawl away, my face and body burning as the acid ate at the nerves, looking for something else to use in defense. Over by the box of tools he struggled to get to his feet, knocking it all over, and in the glow of the phone I saw him place both his hands over the scissor handle and pull it out with one quick tug.
His eye came out with it, stuck on the scissors’ end.
The scream to follow was animalistic, the sound of a creature dying, filling the room, yet it was quickly buried by the sound of gunfire outside the window. Esteban howled and staggered over to the door, flinging it open and running out into the hallway which was filled with gunfire and people shouting.
He took the scissors, and his eye, with him.
I was left behind.
To die or to live.
Mustering what strength I could, I started to crawl across the floor. My shoulder and breast gashed and bleeding, my hair shorn, my collarbone smashed in, my face and stomach burning away. I had to survive, after all this, I had to live.
I almost made it to the door before the last of the adrenaline was depleted from my veins. Then I stopped, collapsing on the floor, and the last tear fell from my eyes.
I had tried.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Javier
We left just before dusk, three SUVs filled with some of Mexico’s most wanted. Me, Evaristo and Diego were in the middle car, with one of Evaristo’s men at the wheel. He didn’t talk much, which I appreciated.
In fact, not many of us did as we rolled along the highways and backroads, heading up toward the capitol of Sinaloa and my home.
My home. It had started to sound foreign ever since I was put away. It was as if I had believed Esteban and his attempts to take over.
I wouldn’t believe that anymore. It was my home and I was going back and I was taking back everything that was rightfully mine. I had no choice now but to rise like a phoenix from the ashes and r
ule again once more.
Around a kilometer away from the compound, we took a sharp left down an even rougher dirt road, one that used to lead to a poppy farm once upon a time, before the DEA hazed it down all those years ago. We rolled up and down potholes that would have swallowed a smaller car until we came to a small clearing among the leafy ceiba trees.
We parked and Evaristo turned around from the front seat to face Diego and me.
“Isn’t this where your tunnel leads?”
Shit. He was good, he was able to lead us right here without me saying anything. The tunnel – built by the previous narco owner – lead from the house to an area beyond the hog’s barn, then had another entrance point here, the old poppy field far beyond the rugged brush that surrounded the compound.
I studied Evaristo for a moment. “All this intel you had on me and you couldn’t make a move. Why?”
He shrugged. “Same reason why we didn’t go after Hernandez when we had him. We’ve been trying to borrow the book from the North Americans and give warrant and reason to our arrests. A waste of time, as you know. We had you. Have you. We have everyone, almost, except the ones who are really on the run, as you may have to be if and when word gets out. But we are not allowed to make a move until all the boxes have been checked. I think it has a lot to do with the North Americans meddling in our jobs, even though the federales would never admit it. There has been far too much money put into our force.”
“I guess they’re hoping you won’t be so corrupt this time around.”
He smiled. “And you can see they were wrong about that.”
We got out of the cars and gathered around while Evaristo and some of his men opened the trunk and started handing out ammo. They had been briefed over and over again during the day over what was going to take place and, unsurprisingly, there were no objections. The whole lot of them were primed for more bloodshed, you could practically see them salivating at the mouth.
It didn’t help that when morning came around, one of the men was found strangled to death. Apparently he had been a child molester and that’s why he had been behind bars. Even the country’s worst criminals had a limit to what they would tolerate.