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“One of the kids…you mean, like you? One of the kids they used in the fighting rings?” he asked, and I revved up the gears of my bike and nodded my head.
“He was older than me, but yeah, he started off as me,” I said, and Commando stepped back, recognizing my desperate urge to ride away as fast as I possibly could.
“And he’s their leader now!” he remarked, and I stared at Commando some more. Maybe some other time, I might have told him what exactly Juan Castillo did to the other kids and me. Maybe then Commando would realize why I wasn’t surprised that he was their leader now, and how I knew the things the guy was capable of. But not tonight, tonight I needed to see Valentina.
If he was the one who was holding her captive, I didn’t even want to imagine the things he might have done to her.
I rode away, the sound of Juan’s blood-curdling mad laughter ringing in my ears. It would take me a lifetime to forget the things he liked to do. How he took punches at my jaw till he heard the sound of bones breaking. I was sixteen, and he couldn’t have been older than twenty, but he liked that distinct sound; bone crunching against bone and the sight of skin splitting open and blood gushing out.
Chapter 10
Valentina
“He made me watch the kids fighting,” I said in a quiet voice, trying to hold back the tears. The image was still stark in my mind, every time I shut my eyes, I could see it again. The kids, teenagers, lunging at each other. Monstrous men surrounding them like a hungry pack of wolves, goading them on to fight…to keep fighting.
I had my knees pulled up to my chin, as I sat on the bed in Moira’s guest room. I was wearing a pair of her pajamas and an old t-shirt, which she had so graciously offered. I didn’t think that Jesus would return that night, and I couldn’t go to sleep. The shock of everything that had happened was dissipating, and sadness and fear were settling in. I knew I was exhausted, and I needed sleep for my body to recuperate, but I couldn’t do it, I couldn’t sleep.
So, when Jesus knocked on the bedroom door, I gasped, imagining that it was Juan or someone from the gang. They had found me! Instead, Jesus stepped in, and I watched his silhouette in the dark at the door.
He had come rushing to my bed side and knelt down. I had reached for his face, feeling his lips under my fingertips. Then he told me that he knew it was Juan who had kidnapped me.
Jesus was pacing the floor now, listening to what I was saying. I could see the rage bubbling up inside him with every word that left my lips.
“Did he have you tied?” he asked, spinning around to look at me again.
“Not in the warehouse, I suppose he knew that I couldn’t go anywhere,” I told him and looked shiftily away. I was getting closer to the point in the story where I would have to tell him what Juan eventually did.
He saw it in my eyes; he knew something else had happened. I gulped and licked my lips.
“I thought I could make a phone call. To Papi or anyone outside. Juan’s cell phone was in the pocket of his pants, and I thought nobody was looking, so I reached for it…” I said and nearly choked on my own words. Jesus came rushing towards me, knelt down beside me again and reached for my hand.
“He caught you, didn’t he?” he said, in a low, breathy voice and I had no other choice but to nod my head.
“He punched me, I fell, and then they pulled me up and forced me to watch again,” I said, and I could feel the tears trickling down my cheeks.
He reached for a teardrop, running his finger along the length of my cheek to catch it. When he brought his finger away, he was staring into my eyes. My lips were quivering; I couldn’t say a word or make a sound.
“You’re safe now, Valentina, I’m going to make sure that you don’t ever have to witness something like that ever again,” he said and fixed his hands on the back of my head, interlocking his fingers together.
I nodded and tried to smile, and realized that there was a throbbing ache at the back of my head now.
“I remember what he did to you…to the other kids, he was cruel,” I cried and he took in a deep breath.
“He was older and more experienced,” he said.
“And a lick-ass. Papi thought he was a loyal warrior for the gang, I bet he never thought that he could get out of hand, that Juan would one day kidnap his own daughter,” I said, my voice shook as I spoke. Jesus stroked my hair, peering into my eyes and then he stood up abruptly.
“I’m going to take care of him, Valentina,” I heard him say, and he turned from me and walked over to the window in the room. Only the lamp on the bedside table was switched on. The rest of the room was dark, and there was an unsettling silence both outside and inside the room, so much so that I could hear Jesus breathing.
He was looking outside, and I slipped my legs off the bed. He had no idea how safe I felt when he was here with me. How overjoyed I was when I saw that he had returned. I hadn’t expected to see him again so soon. I expected him to be caught up with the MC’s work, and yet he had made time for me and returned.
I walked up to him and placed a hand on his back. Jesus whipped around to look at me, and I saw that his dark eyes were sparkling.
“I’ve thought about you every day,” he said gruffly, and I gulped.
“I shouldn’t ever have left,” I said, and he stepped closer to me, my hand grazed his solid muscular chest now.
“You had to leave, to make a better life for yourself. You shouldn’t ever have come back,” he said and placed his hands on my waist.
