It must have been the night because the room was dense black, more dead than usual. I was sitting, back against the wall, trailing a chicken feather up and down my bare body, trying to pretend I was somewhere else. That the feather was a soft caress, skin on skin, a lover’s touch. Something nice, something sweet, something hopeful. Even though Javier could be rough with me at times and I liked it, he could also be gentle, tender and passionate too. I wanted to pretend the feather was him, his lips, his forgiveness for all my sins.
I sat there, just letting myself believe each stroke was full of hope, the tickle on my scratched arms, a balm on my cuts and wounds.
The door opened abruptly, light from the hall cutting abrasively into the room, and Esteban strode inside, his shadow menacing and seeming to hold more depth than it should have. In his hands was a toolbox, which he carefully placed on the floor before locking the door behind him.
We were engulfed in blackness again. I told myself to not be afraid, that he couldn’t do anything worse to me, that I was strong enough to get through this but I couldn’t help but suck in my breath, holding it in like it was too precious to spare in the same room as him.
“Sitting in the dark,” his voice said, always so jovial. It made everything that much more wrong. “It’s not healthy for you.”
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.”