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Tears are in my eyes, and Blix’s boots appear before them. He’s standing in front of me, and he jerks my hand off my head. I’m handicapped by my injury. I can’t fight him. I can barely register what’s going on.
I close my eyes and again, I pray. Please help me. Please don’t let them suffer for me again. The words are in my mind as I slowly lift my head. My eyes open and then go wide with horror.
Blix has the garlic press in his hand, and I just register the touch of metal against my skin when SNAP! He clamps the metal pinchers shut and the end of my ring finger falls to the ground.
Silence fills my ears half a second before pain shoots through my hand.
I scream. I can’t stop screaming.
I look at the dead little digit. It’s like something out of a haunted house lying on the ground. Blood is pouring down my arm, and I can’t stop screaming. I’m staring at it from somewhere far away, somewhere filled with blood and pain, and the noise of my screams.
The men run back in the direction of the truck, and Blix jerks my hand up, wrapping it tightly in some kind of white material and applying pressure. It hurts a million times worse, and I scream until my throat burns fire and my voice gives out. Pain resonates in my hand and arm, and I’m trembling and whimpering when he finally pushes me back, satisfied I won’t bleed to death.
He never speaks. He bends down and plucks the end of my finger off the ground and drops it in a plastic bag, then he returns to his vehicle and drives away. My insides shudder violently. I’m on my knees, one arm tight around my waist, still whimpering, holding my hand at my stomach but afraid to touch it. It’s covered in blood and a purple line is below the bandage now stained dark red. I can’t look directly at it. The only thing I see is the ring. The tin ring Cal gave me. I want Cal…
Ximena runs out to me. My teeth rattle and the dizziness is back. I think I’m going to faint. Hazy shapes cloud my vision, but I feel her taking my arms. I focus with all my strength on getting to my feet, allowing her to take me into the house. Selena is at my other side, holding my waist. She’s crying. I see the slick coating of tears on her cheeks, but I can’t speak. My voice is gone. My fight is gone. They’re too strong, and I can’t win this time.
I’ve been a thief and a liar all my life, and my time in this place is the prison sentence I ran to Monagasco to escape. My motives don’t matter. Protecting Ava doesn’t matter. Only my crimes exist here, and I see this moment as the reckoning for everything I’ve done.
We’re at the sink, and Ximena speaks to her daughter. Selena runs to their bed, and I hear the sound of material ripping.
I can’t stop shaking. My body is hot and cold. I can still feel the cold metal pliers against my hand. I can still hear the notch sound, and I see half my finger fall like a bit of play dough to the ground. I see Blix’s dead eyes, and I wonder if I’m nothing more than another fish to be skinned in his mind.
“You’re in shock.” Ximena says.
I’m on the cot wrapped in a blanket. She holds a cup of broth to my lips, and I try to drink it. I try to think, but the throbbing in my head makes logic difficult. It’s interesting to note the disabling fire of a concussion can take a backseat to the searing agony of a severed finger. Two pains are warring in my body, and based on my bizarre train of thought, I think my friend is right. I think I’m in shock.
Ximena speaks in a whisper. She’s wrapping and wrapping. Selena is pale, but she comes to me.
“It’s going to be okay. Mama says it’s going to be okay.”
She’s wrapping my finger as if she has experience with such things. Perhaps this isn’t the worst thing she’s seen. I can’t imagine what that means. I can’t imagine anything anymore. I don’t know what day it is. Every day bleeds into the next like the blood pouring from my hand. I don’t know how long I’ve been here, and I don’t know what I’m looking forward to anymore.
My stomach hurts, and I need to pee. “Baño,” I whisper.
Selena takes my arm. I’m still in the beautiful dress Ximena made for me, only now it’s stained with blood. It’s a sign of our friendship. It’s a sign we’ve protected each other. She’s rescued me twice. I’ve rescued her twice. Now it’s covered in my blood.
Selena walks me to the bushes. “Will you be okay alone?”
I nod and step a few paces into the brush to crouch. It doesn’t take long for me to pee, and I wait, shaking my hips so the urine can get off me. I look around for a friendly leaf or something I can use to help. A banana plant is nearby, and I reach for a large leaf to pat myself dry. It’s slippery, and when I pull it away, I see a dark red stain on the leaf. My stomach cramps, and I know something more is wrong.
“Selena?” I whisper, trying to call her.
Do I dare attempt another prayer? God, please, no. Please don’t take my baby.
Leaning heavily on Selena, we stagger to the house. I go to my cot and lie on my side. Ximena crosses the room to me, but my head is overwhelming me. All of it is overwhelming me. I can’t tell her what’s wrong. I can only give in to the pain.
* * *
What happens next comes in and out as hazy visions. I hear voices. I know Ximena is beside me. I feel her hand on my head.
I drink from the familiar gourd and then pass back into oblivion. I can’t do anything. I can’t help anybody.
The day I lost my finger, the day I saved Ximena… Was that yesterday? The day before? A week ago? My baby… Is my baby okay?
My eyes are fused shut it seems. Heat rises all around us in waves, and I’m still on the cot. Darkness comes, and I’ve been asleep. Voices are around me, but I don’t recognize them. I hear Cal’s rich voice, and I smile. My eyes are closed, and he’s with me in the ocean. We’re back at our beautiful beach in Tortola, and we’ve run down to the shore like I’d always wanted to do.
We don’t need clothes. It’s our private beach, and no one is around. Twilight paints the scene in black and white, and my arms are around his neck. His large hands span my lower back, sliding down over my ass as my breasts press flat against his firm chest.
