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He yanks the strap of my sports bra down and bares my breast. A tear rolls down my cheek. “Just a little sample before I leave.” And when I feel his mouth close over my nipple, I can’t stop the sob that escapes. He lifts his head and eyes me with a satisfied smile. “I like that. I want you to cry. It turns me on.”
He pulls my strap back up and says, “Go. I’ll be back in three hours. And you’d better be here. And don’t even think of calling the police. Because if they come looking for me, they’ll also find you, and then you can kiss this country goodbye.” He releases me and air rushes into my lungs, and I feel bruises in the places that he had me pressed down.
And like he doesn’t have a care in the world, he gets into his car and drives away.
I stand there staring after him, and when his car disappears from the drive, I turn and run into the house. I grab my suitcase and throw all my clothes inside. And then, I call Reece.
He answers almost immediately. “Babe, I was just about to call you. I’m just getting back to my room—” He stops talking when he hears me crying.
“Lucía, what’s wrong?”
The concern in his voice and that he’s so far away, break the dam I’ve held on to my emotions this week. I completely break down. I tell him everything. About the lawyer and about Coco. I am a fountain of pain. It gushes from me leaving my body through my tears, my sobs, my word
s.
“Reece, I have to leave.” Each word feels like the tug of an anchor. They pull me down to a place I thought I’d left behind. My life as I know it, is about to end. Again. “I can’t live like this anymore. I can’t. It won’t end, Reece. It will just get worse. I have to leave.”
Reece is silent. If it wasn’t for the noise in the background, I might have thought he’d hung up. I know this is a shock to him. I know he feels helpless. But what just happened with Coco has spurred me into action.
I stand up and start putting my things in a bag while I continue to speak. “I need to get to Los Feliz, get Jessica squared away and let her know I’m leaving. I only need a week to find a place, pack and go. The last week has been too much. How much am I supposed to lose because of a crime I didn’t commit? I didn’t ask to be brought here. I didn’t ask to be raised here. But I was. It’s the only home I’ve known. I’ve only tried to make something of my life, but I know now that I’ll never be able to do that here,” I say into the phone.
Reece has been silent and when he speaks I almost don’t recognize his voice; it’s lost its timbre. His tone is robotic and hollow. “I’m going to make sure Coco never touches you or anyone else again. I’ve just ordered a car to come for you. The driver’s name is John, he’s one of the office drivers who drives my father. He’s going to take you to my parents’ house. Please wait for me, I’m heading to the airport now.” His voice breaks on that last word and he clears his throat. When he speaks again he sounds more like himself. “I’m so sorry that I left you. I’m so sorry that he touched you. God, I’m just so sorry for everything.” I can hear the depth of his anguish. I can’t quantify my own feelings. I just know that I need to get out of here.
“Reece, I love you. When you get here, we’ll figure it out,” I say and curse the distance that’s depriving me of the ability to touch him.
“Go and get Jessica and take her with you to my parents. I don’t know that you’ll be safe in Los Feliz. Coco knows where that house is.”
I start to protest; I don’t want to go to his parents’ house.
“Please, I know that you’re not crazy about my mom, but you will be safe there. I’m calling them now; they’ll be expecting you.”
I sigh, too tired to argue. “I’ll ask Jessica to pick up my mother. Would it be okay for her to come, too?
“Yes, of course,” he replies sounding relieved.
39
Reece
It’s been two weeks since I got back from New York after all hell broke loose. I’m pacing my parent’s living room waiting for Lucía and her mother to come down. I’m taking them to the airport. They’re leaving. The last two weeks have been full of planning and putting out fires. As I traveled back from New York, I was in denial. I was sure I would get back and be able to fix things.
I begged Lucía to let me find an option that didn’t include her having to leave. I’d spoken to a lawyer and told her that she could apply for advanced parole while her case was pending. That would have meant she could stay during that time.
She refused. That conversation was, by far, the most heated we’ve ever had. We’d been having breakfast at my house a couple of days after I got back. Her face was still bruised from where Coco had hit her. I wanted to kill him. Not just figuratively. She had a bruise on her breast that wouldn’t fade and I swear I wanted to cut every finger off the hand that put them there. My anger is inconsolable. But so is my fear of her leaving. The panic I felt when I realized that she was determined left me shell shocked. But it was nothing compared to the unnervingly humbling knowledge that she was also right. But I didn’t give up without a fight.
Her response was potent with anger and when I’d brought up the idea of Advanced Parole, she’d said, “I’m not going to be a conditional resident, Reece. I’ve had enough of it and you can’t ask it of me.” Tears trailed down her face and I hurt for her. But, I’d felt like I was fighting for my life in that moment. This woman had begun to feel like the most important part of my life. I loved her. I didn’t want her living in another country where I couldn’t protect her.
When I’d told her as much, her response was laced with a bitterness I’d never heard before. “You can’t protect me here, Reece. If they walked into this house right now and put handcuffs on me, you couldn’t stop them.” She looked away from me, gazing out the window. The sun was shining, the birds were chirping . . . like it was just any other day. And not the worst day of my life.
That truth, delivered like rapidly fired arrows, hit their mark. “I fucking know, Lucía,” I seethed at her. My hands gripping my coffee mug so tightly I’d heard the ceramic protest and threaten to crack. “But I am the man who loves you. I need to try.”
She got up and came to sit on my lap. She looped her arms around my neck and looked at me. Her dark eyes luminescent with a plea for me to understand.
“Try by helping me to leave. Let me go so I can come back to you. I want to be a full partner to you, Reece. I want to travel with you. I want to be able to vote. I want to drive. I want to speed down a deserted highway and know that if I get pulled over by a cop, the worst thing that will happen is that I’ll get a ticket.” She touched her bruised cheek. “I want to be able to call the police when I’m in danger and not worry that it will mean I’ll be thrown out of the country that is the only home I’ve very known.”
I stared at her, my heart pounding as I settled into the realization that I couldn’t stop this. “Okay. Let’s do it.” And then I picked her up, took her back to bed and started saying goodbye.
My parents, very quickly, realized how vulnerable Lucía is. What Coco did to her—the way he violated and terrorized her—shook them. My response showed them, that no matter what they said or did, I wouldn’t be giving up on the woman I love. They have thrown all their weight around as we’ve all worked to help Lucía get ready to leave. My father has been good friends with the Mexican Foreign Secretary since they were both young coeds at Yale. He called him and made sure Lucía wouldn’t have any trouble settling in Mexico. He coordinated with various agencies to get her updated Mexican identification documents.
