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“He knows what you were doing. Six weeks, Teresa. Six weeks. You won’t survive the punishment.”
“Punishment?”
“And neither will I. You’ve killed us both. I hope it was worth it.”
Then my dad comes into the room.
“Answer her, zorra. Was it worth it?” I frown, wondering why she’s talking to me like that. I’ve never heard her use such forceful language.
“Yes,” I answer, fully prepared for the pain that never comes.
“Well, that’ll be the last bit of fun you ever have. You’ve been sold, Hannah.”
“Who is Hannah?” I ask.
“You are now. Just preparing you for what the client wants. You’ll be called Hannah from now on. Take her,” he says, snapping his fingers—two men I didn’t notice before come out of the shadows and grab my arms.
“I’m not going to fight, Dad,” I say. I want to, but I have to think of my baby.
“That’ll be good. You’ve disgraced this family, and whatever happens, you deserve it. I had such high hopes for you, Teresa. Too late now.”
“I’m sorry. Tía had nothing to do with it.”
“She’ll be fine. She’s too old and too ugly to sell,” he replies nastily. Tía looks down at the floor, ready to cry. I know she’s heard that all her life.
“I’m sorry, tía. I didn’t mean for you to be hurt.”
“I’ll be fine. Good luck, Hannah.”
Six Weeks Later
Things didn’t go as my dad planned. I never did end up with a customer. Instead, I’ve been in a small room with two other girls, Saffron and Kimbella, who were kidnapped from a nightclub. Everyone speaks Spanish, and I’ve gathered we are in Mexico. Home, but it couldn’t feel any like home.
I’m starving, the baby is starving, and my only saving grace is that no one knows I’m pregnant. During the day, we sweat bullets together, and at night the three of us huddle together for warmth.
One day, the men fill the room with unconscious girls. We are gagged and our hands tied up, but the other girl’s slumber on.
Upstairs, I hear a commotion, and what sounds like silenced gunshots. Suddenly two men burst into the room. They talk quietly at the entrance of the room and then make their way over to us.
“Hello, little Swan. Your father sent me to get you two. Can you stand?” The older of the two men asks Kimbella.
“Y-yes. I can walk,” she replies after he pulls her gag down.
“Good. That will come in handy eventually. Right now, you’re where I want you. Axe, call Diezal. Tell him to meet you at the bottom and take the other one. We’ll split up and meet at the designated location in four hours. Have him call in the rest of the guys to get the other girls. Tell them we have about twelve hours tops before they move them once discovering these three missing. Pull the Jorgensen’s that can help and any of the guys wandering the compound. Godspeed, brother.”
Diezal? My Diezal? He found me. I hadn’t dared hope he would, but he did. I stare at him but don’t say anything. I stand when the man tells me to, and he leads Saffron and me out of the compound. We step over bodies as we go, but I don’t care.
“Split up and meet at the rendezvous point in four hours.”
“Thanks, brother. I’ll take this one and see you soon.” They shake hands, and we’re off, running in the jungle. I drink the water he hands me, but we keep going. When we are a few miles away, he stops me and kisses me. “Fuck, I missed you, baby,” he says, then kisses me again. He pulls back and puts his hand on my belly. “Is everything okay?”
“Nice and snug, babe. He doesn’t know yet, thank God. That might be the only thing that has saved me. If he knew, he would kill me. I missed you so much. I love you,” I blurt out. We hadn’t gotten around to saying that before, but now I’ll never take a single second for granted.
“I love you too, my Teresita.”
Thank God. Everything is going to be okay now.
Chapter Three
Diezal
I know I should say something to her right now, Lord knows I have plenty to say, but everything in me is in knots, adrenaline still pumping, and anything I say right now could be wrong. Everything I have been holding in for the last three months is converging on me at once, and I am now a once dormant volcano.
I am now breathing easy being back in Bleak, in my own environment, surrounded by my shit. My people. It’s customary to go to a safehouse but fuck that shit. I need her in our home. Our bed. Out of the corner of my eye, I see her fidgeting with her fingers. Part of me is scared that she is now afraid of me or conditioned against me. Even the thought of her not harboring the same need for me is killing me. To be honest, I think it is more about not knowing what she went through in the time it took me to find her. Still, I don’t like her being nervous either. I place my hand on her lap, over her hands. When she visibly exhales at my touch, my entire body silently collapses. Looks like we were both worried.
