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I wish I could say I got some reassurance from Hawke’s promise, but sadly I didn’t. If anything, knowing they are up against Antonio and Andres has only heightened my fear, meaning I was utterly distracted during my last appointment. Knowing I wasn’t paying as much attention as I should have been, I apologized to young Siobhan, waived her fee, and rescheduled her appointment. After Siobhan left, I had Mary cancel the rest of my appointments and locked myself in my office.
It’s been a long time since Antonio Hernandez installed any fear in me like he is right now. When I escaped Andres and Sebastian’s clutches, I thought I was safe …how wrong was I.They weren’t the ones I needed to fear, for Antonio is theBelauof Bellavista, which is Latin for Beast when translated.
He wasn’t always like this, though, as there was a time when he was just a boy who loved to help hisAbuela …, his grandmother,weave baskets.
Antonio is older by five years, and we both lived in Bellavista, the municipal center of Bojayá, Colombia. I never feared Antonio when I was younger because he was always nice to me when my mother stopped by once a week to deliver bamboo and reeds to hisAbuela. I remember Antonio once telling me that hisAbuelaloved helping others and because she could no longer carry the baskets, she made them instead. His mother had drowned when he was an infant, and hisAbuelaraised him,so their bond was strong. Unfortunately, a tragedy changed him from that sweet boy to the monster he is today.
My story is long and tragic, which I was forced to share with Hawke after I learned of his association with the Alexandria family. Although only temporarily, when I first learned of his relationship with that family, it brought back horrifying memories I’d spent years trying to erase.
I won’t deny that initially, the attention my confession brought was suffocating. Still, over time we found a level playing ground in our chaotic lives that has blended us perfectly. Each of us gives the other something they’re seeking, that they weren’t aware they needed, and it has created an unbreakable bond.
Back to my story …
My name hasn’t always been Emily Proctor.
Once upon a time, I was known as Luciana Lopez.
Back in two thousand and two, hundreds of paramilitary combatants moved into our region, but it wasn’t until May that year that the fighting spilled over into Bellavista. My mother and I watched as Antonio and his grandmother took refuge with hundreds of others in the church. We were supposed to follow, but momma didn’t believe we would all fit, so we took refuge down by the Atrato River instead.
From where we were hiding, the gunfire and bombs lit up the night sky, yet it wouldn’t be until the following day that we would discover the full extent of what had happened. We waited until we thought it was safe then momma and I snuck back to the church only to find that it had been bombed. Sitting near the church was a dirty, crying Antonio holding onto his deadAbuelalike his life depended on it. My momma never told me the number of people who died in that blast, only that it was mostly children.
Antonio was fifteen years old when that happened, but her death changed him. With her gone, he joined forces with those para-militants, studying them, learning everything he could …perfecting his skills. A couple of years later, when he was assured he was ready, he killed the group he’d been living with. He no longer wanted to be the one taking orders; he wanted to give them, so he used what he learned and started recruiting.
As part of those militants, Antonio became aware of the lucrative arms and drug trafficking trade that ran through central America. His knowledge of the area, enthusiasm, and cruelty led to him becoming one of the most feared and powerful men in Bellavista. Three other local boys joined his cause as well, the Gomez brothers.
Matias, Sebastian, and Andres had always been trouble, but when Antonio recruited them, they became much worse. Matias was the one Sebastian and Andres looked up to as children, quickly learning from his behavior. My momma used to tell me to stay away from them because they were bad, just like their daddy. Their father was a man who enjoyed inflicting pain onto others and was often absent from their lives, having also been a member of the militant group.
By the time I was sixteen, Antonio had set up his compound by the Atrato River. It was an impenetrable fortress, or so he believed, where he could conduct his business privately. We all knew what they were doing; we just chose to ignore it for our safety. It was as though he still had some respect for his elders because he never allowed his business dealings to occur within the township …until the Gomez brothers joined him.
Antonio had promised their father he would take care of his sons, so he brought them into his home and business. Each of them quickly rose through the ranks until all three became lieutenants. Once they’d proven their worth, Antonio started traveling to broaden his reach and expand his territory.
Matias and his brothers did not share a respect for Bellavista’s elders, but they hid their dealings from Antonio because they knew he would disapprove. We always knew when Antonio was gone because his men would skulk around, looking for easy targets to prey on.
That was when the abductions began.
All three of the brothers were sadistic, but Andres was the worst. He believed they could make Antonio more money if they got into the human trafficking trade. It wouldn’t be until their alliance with the Alexandria Crime Family in Brooklyn that they became heavily involved.
That was when they abducted me.
The day I was abducted, I remember helping my mother gather bamboo when a car suddenly stopped on the edge of the field we were working in. Curious, I watched as Andres and a man I’d never seen before exited the car. Both stood at the edge of the limestone and just stared at me before turning and getting back into the car. I found it strange at the time but thought nothing of it and returned to helping my mother.
Later that night, I heard rustling outside as I prepared for bed. Noises didn’t bother me as there was always something scurrying around at night, but as I turned away from my window, I felt a hand wrap around my neck, dragging me backward. The tight grip on my neck muffled any attempt to scream as I was pulled through the window, so I tried clawing at my attacker instead.
Once outside, I was thrown to the ground, and something heavy hit me on the side of my head. That was the last thing I remembered until I awoke sometime later in a cold, damp room. The room itself had a window nothing like my own, one with glass and bars. Inside the room was nothing but a bucket, and the large wooden door appeared to be locked from the other side. I cried for hours that first night and then again every other night until I managed to escape.
When the sun rose that following morning, I would finally discover who had abducted me and where they had taken me. The noise of the rattling chain had me scampering into the corner of the room so I could hide in what little darkness still existed. As the door opened, my eyes widened when the same man who had watched me in the field alongside Andres entered and slowly approached me. Not knowing what to expect, I clutched onto myself in self-preservation while he squatted before me.
When he first spoke to me and apologized for how I’d been mistreated, his voice was gentle, soft almost, falsely leading me to believe he was a kind man. Even though I would later learn his words and actions were nothing more than an act, at that moment, he appeared genuine when he promised to help get me cleaned up.
He knew I was still terrified, my whole body shaking violently in fear, so he kept his distance so as not to frighten me further, using soothing words to calm me. I was hesitant when he told me to take his hand, but his voice seemed remorseful and sincere, so eventually, I allowed him to help me to my feet.
It wasn’t difficult for this man to prey on my naivety as I lacked any experience around men like him, and he knew it. Encouraging me to follow, he led me out of that room and directed me toward a staircase where the shadow of an older woman standing at the top appeared. It took my eyes a moment to adjust and acknowledge, but the woman he was leading me toward was none other than Matias, Sebastian, and Andres’s mother. I hadn’t realized she was also living here, but then again, she always kept to herself.
Mrs. Gomez led me by the hand and assured me everything would be okay. She escorted me to another room, one very different from the room I’d previously been held captive in. This one had pretty lace curtains hanging over the windows, which I must have stared at for the longest time because she roughly grabbed my hand to lead me into another smaller room. I now know it was the bathroom Mrs. Gomez was impatiently pulling me into, yet at the time, I was frightened as I’d never seen rooms such as those before. The home I’d shared with my momma was somewhat primitive, with no running water or electricity, nor was it secured with fancy doors or glass windows.
When she turned the taps on and gestured for me to enter, I looked at her in horror. I froze when she started yelling at me because I had no idea what it was and was too scared to move any closer. Yanking at my dress, she stripped me naked and pushed me under the water. Mumbling under her breath, she roughly cleaned my skin until any trace of dirt had been permanently eradicated.
