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Antonio walked out, tall and proud, smiling at me with one of the rare smiles he only seemed to spare for me. My heart sped up, but as I watched him, his image faded in and out.
He wasn’t real. A figment of my strained imagination. The pain and fatigue was making me insane.
It might’ve hurt more if I wasn’t so mesmerized by the sight of him. There were so many things to say, so much to thank him for. So much to confess.
"Carmen,"he whispered, his eyes glittering like black diamonds in the darkness."I can’t believe you haven’t run away again.”
Antonio.I must’ve said his name aloud, because he tilted his head to the side and smirked. There was desperation in my voice. Did he know how much I ached to return to him? Tears pricked my eyes and spilled over.
His expression changed from irritated to concerned in an instant. “Don’t cry. Todo va a estar bien.”
I will come back to you soon,I said in my mind. Then, aloud I spoke my promise into the air. "I will escape and come back to you, Antonio Castillas," I breathed, the words an incantation woven from desperation and love.
“Of course you will, Carmen,” the spirit of Antonio said. My beautiful hallucination. His words resonated deep within my soul, setting a fire alight that no darkness could ever extinguish.
My heart hammered against my ribcage, the beat of defiance echoing in my ears. And as I clung to that fragile thread of possibility, the world around me seemed to shift and shimmer, the shadows dancing like ephemeral flames upon the walls. It was as if the very air had come alive, responding to my determination, urging me onwards.
If only I wasn’t so tired. “I miss you.”
My sweet Antonio smiled."Sleep now,"he murmured, his voice the only contrast to the pounding of my heart."You will make it out of this soon."
His apparition put a hand on my arm, and I was content to pretend that we were together once more. There was a feeling of safety that flooded into my bones, warming me from the inside out until my eyelids drooped and my body grew heavy. I should’ve left the chair they had used to torture me, but… I couldn’t.
The memory of him whispered through me like a long-lost secret, as though the very stones of this wretched place resonated with my desire for freedom. I became one with the shadows, the tendrils of darkness reaching out to wrap around my heart and soul, drawing me closer into their embrace. As the darkness closed in around me, consuming my very essence, I clung to the single word that had become my lifeline, my mantra, my only hope.
Escape.
Chapter8
La Reina Santísima
The windowless room was bare and dimly lit, with nothing but shadows clinging to the corners. I blinked, disoriented, then took in the thick curtains revealing a solid wall. If I was still here, that meant another day subjected to the patrons. As soon as I tried to move, I was met with resistance. My wrists were bound to the soft chair where I’d fallen asleep, and a coarse rope dug into the skin of my neck, pinning me in place.
These were new.
I shivered, but not from fear. He had put them back on while I slept. I was enraged. Isolda, the maid I’d been given while living with Antonio, had come into my room when I slept, and I had been livid. This was far more malicious and invasive than sneaking around my room while I slumbered. He put his hands on me, slid ropes around my skin. It was impossible to know if he had done something else to me.
He had already taken so much.
My heart hurt, and I steeled myself against the memory of blades carving into my flesh, the sick fascination in the eyes of the endless stream of people passing through my room as they watched my skin knit itself back together, only to steal a lock of hair before being ushered outside so someone else could slice into me again. The pain was excruciating, but the humiliation and helplessness were worse.
I was nothing but a curiosity to them, a means for the Comerciante Nocturno to line his pockets.
The door creaked open, and I tensed. Unsurprisingly, it was Omar, carrying a wooden tray with a bowl and glass carefully balanced on top.
His lips curled into a smirk as he took in my bound form. “Buenos días, Carmen. Aquí está tu desayuno.”
I glared at him. “Why did you tie me up while I slept?” My cheeks were flushed, and I wanted to slice him open from navel to nose.
He ignored me. "It’s still early. The patrons won’t arrive for another hour or two, but I wanted to make sure you ate before they arrived." His fingers tightened around the knife at his belt.
I pressed my lips together and refused to give him the satisfaction of a response. Let him threaten me all he liked. One day I would escape this place, and when I did, there would be a reckoning.
He set the tray down on a table near my chair, then picked up a spoon and filled it with the golden broth teeming the edges. I watched intently as he brought it to my mouth.
“Abre, Carmen,” he murmured.
It was like bugs were crawling against my skin. There was no way that I would let him feed me, much less touch me. I pressed my lips together harder.
