I huffed a laugh through my nose and shook my head. I was too scared to joke. Six months of sexual tension had been relieved, and raging bulls couldn’t have pulled me away from him during the ten minutes we’d been going at it. But now…now I was filled with fear.
In my mind, I ran through all sorts of scenarios. Marco and his staff had so much to take care of. Maybe nobody was manning the camera room right now. It was possible nobody would ever know.
I let out a deep breath. Nobody was breaking down the door to reprimand us, which was a good sign. Josef had already fallen asleep in his bed, breathing evenly and harder than normal in his peaceful state. He wasn’t at all concerned about punishment. I was being paranoid. Again, I let out a breath.
Nobody would find out. Everything was going to be okay.
The next morning when Jin and Mia came back to the slave quarters our breakfast tray had not been delivered, which was strange. A couple hours passed and it was clear they’d forgotten to feed us with Marco being gone. Nobody said a word. We went about our business, Josef doing his light workout in the corner while the three of us girls did our own things—showering, reading, painting nails. Sounded much more glamorous than it was. We were bored.
Not to mention the awkwardness between Josef and I. We’d yet to look at one another. I felt guilty, like I’d taken advantage of him. Not that he’d seemed to mind, but that was besides the point.
When noontime arrived and nobody came to get us for lunch I started to feel sick, both from hunger and nerves.
I met Josef’s eyes for one brief moment. I think we were both communicating the same thing: They know. He appeared resigned, while I began to panic. I forced myself to curl up on my mattress as if napping, and tried not to look guilty. My mind raced. Maybe we weren’t caught. Maybe something had happened to Marco. The thought of him being killed sent me on a roller coaster of emotion. I was elated at the thought we might be freed, then I felt guilty for being glad he might be dead since he’d been so nice, then I was pissed at myself for referring to my captor as nice. What the hell was wrong with me? I refused to go Stockholmy on Marco. I would never fall in love with him. It was more of a paternal feeling, which was just as disturbing in a different way.
Those were the screwed up kinds of thoughts I was having when the door to our quarters finally opened. We all got up and moved toward the entrance. I was expecting to see Luis, but it was Marco standing there with a stern face, Perla behind him. The other four of us fell to our knees with our heads down. My heart pounded.
Please don’t know, please don’t know…
In his customary calm, level voice, Marco said, “Angel, venga conmigo.” He was telling me to come with him. I was expected to recognize basic Spanish commands at that point, so I moved forward on my hands and knees.
I raised my eyes just enough to make sure I wouldn’t run into anything, and I saw Perla pass me, going into the quarters with a tray of food. My stomach grumbled with a gnawing emptiness. I reached up and grabbed my collar from the table at the entrance, securing it around my neck with shaking hands. Wearing a pink silk and lace camisole and matching undies, I crawled through the villa behind Marco. He led me to a wing of the house where I’d never been. Two armed men guarded the hall. What was going on? I was so nervous. Where was he taking me?
He stopped in front of a door and I watched his shiny black shoes turn to face me. I sat back on my heels, placed my hands on my thighs and kept my head down.
“Angel…my golden trinket…” His voice was even softer and lower than normal, which filled me with dread. “Do you think there is anything that happens in my home I don’t know about?”
My whole body became as heavy as lead and the breath I’d been inhaling got stuck in my lungs. A deep tremble began inside me, starting in my belly and radiating outward until my hands shook and my jaw chattered. I tried to clamp my teeth together. The hall was so quiet I could hear my breaths as they started back, practically hyperventilating through my nose.
“Yo sé que tu hablas espa?ol. Siempre lo he sabido.” I know you speak Spanish. I’ve always known.
So lightheaded…I felt my weight dip to the side and I caught myself. My body wanted to pass out from fear overload.
He knew. Of course he knew. He’d probably read every article and seen every newscast about my disappearance. He would have read about my college major. I’d been playing stupid all along for no reason. A burning sensation shot through my sinuses, behind my eyes, making my nose want to run, and my throat need to swallow. My body was trying to cry.
No. No tears. I kept my head down and swallowed hard.
In Spanish Marco said, “We will no longer converse in English. You will speak only Spanish, even to the other slaves. Do you understand?”
“Sí, Master.” The words tumbled out quickly. I was so terrified I would have done anything, agreed to anything he said.