I think I passed out for a while in the cellar. The dank, clearly unused lower level of the house was cold and dark. I’d been hog-tied at the wrists and ankles and left on the dirt floor. When I woke up, I peered at the light coming from underneath the heavy metal door that had been locked from the outside.
The sliver of light was darkening, and I guessed the time to be around dinner, if the growling of my stomach was any indication. I hadn’t eaten all day, and my stomach was a cavern. My head was still sore. I should really have it checked…if I survived, of course.
I wondered if Renato had found Lucy yet. I could only hope that he had.
He’d find me, too. I was sure of it. The only questions were, how long it would take, and what would happen to me in the meantime?
Helpless tears pressed against my eyelids. My life had been destroyed just to be built back up, and now, I teetered on the edge of losing it all again. The pain I felt at losing the tiny glimpse of life I’d had with Renato put into perspective how unhappy my life had been before meeting him. He was the storm that had blown my existence apart, and only then had I realized I’d been hanging on by a thread. Working too much, worrying too much, scrimping and saving and trying to survive.
But there was more to life than just surviving, and I’d forgotten that. Maybe, thanks to my childhood, I’d never really understood that. Happiness was a privilege reserved for others. That belief had been lodged in my bedrock, and Renato had pried it free.
I didn’t care that he was a man destined for Hell for the things he’d done for his family. I didn’t care that he’d forced me to choose between him and death. Now, at the end, my morals didn’t seem much at all in the face of love.
Love. Maybe it was the impending death talking, but the word kept circling my head. Was it even possible to fall in love with someone so fast? I guessed it was just as possible as getting to my age and never loving anyone but my family. I hadn’t been aware of it happening, and I might not even be realizing it if I wasn’t tied up, on a cellar floor, facing nearly certain death. A circumstance like this forced you to think about what you’d miss, and who you were losing.
So, faced with that, I couldn’t deny that I loved him. He was the first and last man I’d ever love, and if I died today, I knew in my heart he’d take care of Lucy. I trusted him.
And like that, the habit of a lifetime gave way for an exception. He was my exception.
Tears tracked slowly down my cheeks. I should have told him about the bug right away. I should have told him I loved him, even if it was too soon. I lived in his world now, and in his world, where you experienced life-and-death scenarios on the regular, was a declaration of love so crazy?
My regretful musings were distracted by a sound from outside.
A key turned in the lock with a rusty groan and then the door banged open. The two guys who’d taken me barged in. One was carrying a tray. My stomach growled at the smell of soup.
“Look who’s decided to wake up,” one of them sneered, kicking me in the side when he got close enough.
“Yeah, this bitch gets to wake up, when she put Julio in a coma? It’s not right,” the other one muttered. Julio? Must have been the guy whose head I’d smacked with the crowbar. I really didn’t like to make things easy on myself.
I watched them warily as they moved around. The light from the doorway illuminated the cold basement. Cities of cobwebs wreathed the unused wine racks, and the rustle of paper shavings and old newspapers in the corners told me I wasn’t alone down here in the dark. It looked like the basement was in use after all, but the inhabitants were of the four-footed, scurrying variety.
Stooge Number One pulled my gag from my mouth and got close to me. “What do you have to say for yourself, bitch?”
I didn’t bother responding. I had nothing to say, and I was pretty sure there was nothing I could say to stop whatever these guys were about to do. I was powerless, and it burned.
My stomach chose that moment to growl again, and both my tormentors laughed.
“She’s hungry. She’s still got an appetite after nearly killing someone. Don’t worry, we’ve got you covered.”
One of them held the tray.
“The patrón said to make sure you didn’t die, that you had some water…He wants you around so that Renato can watch when he kills you.”
The other guy was stroking my hair back with malicious gentleness.
“I said we’d take care of it,” the one holding the tray laughed.
His friend moved back, just in time to avoid getting splashed with soup as the tray was tipped over my head.
The soup was hot and splashed down my chest and middle, burning through my shirt. The guy who had dumped the soup on me tossed the entire tray over my head once they’d laughed their fill at the sight of me writhing in pain under the hot liquid.
“What a mess you are, girl. I’d clean up if I were you, before your husband comes. You don’t want his last memory of you to be all dirty like this.” Chuckles filled the air and the sound of the heavy old door opening. “We’ll be back later, bitch. Enjoy your meal.”
The door slammed and the sound of the key turning in the lock confirmed that I was once again completely imprisoned inside this cellar; nothing more than human bait for Renato.
Tears streamed down my cheeks, now that I was alone and free to fall apart. I’d be damned if I let them see me cry, but now, alone? I couldn’t stop it.
The soup quickly turned cold and the cool draft blowing beneath the door made me shiver. The smell of carrot and ginger filled my nose. Mixed with the earthy mold smell of the cellar, it turned my stomach.
I lay there, crying in the dark, my whole body shaking, shoulders screaming in their hunched position. I didn’t know how much time passed, but it was clearly enough for the rats who had made the basement their home to get curious. The rustling of their feet drawing closer only made me cry more. They smelled the food, and it was all over me. I didn’t dare shut my eyes; I was paranoid that if I did, I’d wake up crawling in rodents trying to suck soup from my clothes. Even as it got later, I fought to keep my eyes open, and twitch just enough to scare any animal from venturing too close.
Renato will come for you. He will come. Trust him.
I repeated the chant through my mind, rubbing each comforting thought like a precious, wooden bead. My own mental rosary.
He would come.
He would.
