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“Diego.” I nod and walk around Nana to stand in front of her, hiding her with my body. I’m still afraid he might hurt her.
“I hope you enjoyed your little trip, because you won’t be leaving the compound ever again.” He comes to stand before me, his lips stretching into an evil smile. “Welcome home, palomita.” He backhands me so hard that I crumple to the floor.
* * *
There is something wet at the side of my face. For a moment, I think it must be Mimi licking my cheek. I open my eyes and turn my head only to wince when pain shoots through the left side.
“Drink this.” Nana Guadalupe thrusts a pill in my mouth and presses a glass to my lips. I swallow the painkiller and gulp down some water, trying to move my jaw as little as possible.
“What happened?” I choke out.
“The bastard hit you. You blacked out. I had one of the boys bring you here.”
I sit up in bed and look around my old room. In a way, it feels like I never left.
“Do you know what Diego is planning for me?”
“He’s throwing a party tomorrow evening,” she says. “He’s going to announce that the two of you are getting married.”
“When?”
“Wednesday.” She takes my hand and squeezes my fingers. “Why Angelinita? Why come back when you knew what was going to happen?”
I look up at her, feeling the tears gather at the corners of my eyes. Then, I tell her everything. By the time I finish, I’m crying so hard I can barely see her face through all the tears.
“Are you in love with your Russian?”
“Yes,” I whisper and cover my mouth with my hand. It’s hard to speak about Sergei.
“Give me his number, I’ll try calling him. He must come to get you out of here.”
“No. Diego will just kill him.”
“Angelina . . .”
“No, Nana. What’s done is done. I won’t risk him dying because of me.”
The door to my room opens and Maria enters, a small smile stretching her lips. “Diego is waiting for you in his bedroom,” she says and her smile widens. “Don’t let him get restless.”
She turns and closes the door behind her while panic and terror grip my insides.
“Where is my backpack?” I whisper.
Nana takes it from the table and passes it to me with a look of horror written all over her face. She knows very well what’s next. I take the backpack and thrust my hand inside, rummaging through its contents until my fingers wrap around the sleek blade of Sergei’s throwing knife. I pull it out.
“You can’t kill Diego with that.”
“I know,” I say, get up off the bed, and head into the bathroom.
Placing the knife on the counter next to the sink, I remove my jeans and panties, then start rolling up my left sleeve.
“What are you doing?” Nana Guadalupe asks from the doorway.
“I heard Diego say he doesn’t want to fuck whores when they have their period,” I say and reach for the knife. “He said he finds it disgusting.”
I place the tip of the blade on my left upper arm. Gritting my teeth, I press it lightly until it pierces the skin. I hear Nana gasp when blood starts seeping from the small cut. Reaching for the panties on the counter, I press the beige fabric onto the wound, making sure to smear the blood so it looks as genuine as possible. When there is enough blood on my panties, I put them on again, and grab a towel from the rack, pressing it hard against the incision.
“Find me something to wrap around my arm,” I say and start opening the cupboards, hoping to find a first aid kit. The cut is not that big, it should stop bleeding soon enough, but it would be safer if I put something over it to hold the skin together. There’s no medical kit, but I still have a little luck left, because I find a box with Band-Aids.
