I stare at the door long after Daniel leaves. I can’t figure him out, and I don’t like it. He doesn’t strike me as a bad guy, something that makes it even harder to decide how to react in his presence.
I can deal with the bad guys. In school, I made my first friend when I saved a girl from a bully who found it funny to eat up her lunch every day. One day, I stuffed her sandwich with a Habanero pepper my mother grew in the garden. The boy nearly died of a heart attack.
A guy once tried to angle a score at Kendra, not getting that she wasn’t interested in him. He stuck to his guns, though, trying to drag her away from me. I pulled his ear until it nearly tore off, his package firmly in my hands. I swore to tear off his dick should I ever see him again.
But the good guys? They were a mystery.
When I was fifteen, one came up to me and told me I had the most beautiful eyes. When I gave him a confused look and asked him how he intended to verify his theory, he left with a shaking head.
When we moved into Sam’s apartment, a man saw me struggling with two suitcases, a duffel bag, and a plant in my hands. He came over to offer his help. His mistake was to approach me from behind, and I ended up bopping the pot on his head in my mental state. He ran off with a broken nose.
So, how the fuck should I handle Daniel?
I’m not blind. He’s what Kendra would call ‘a solid ten’ with mocha brown hair that grows longer in front, sleeked back in a soccer-star style, and the sides cropped short. A set of pale blues enhances his sharp features. Whenever his gaze settles on me, my body reacts in a weird way—my hands get sweaty, my belly flips, and my cheeks heat up.
Fear? No, I’m not afraid of him. He doesn’t want to harm me—his actions proved as much. But I’m still in the dark about what he wants from me. He didn’t say so, but drug lord is written all over his expensive Armani suit.
Drugs are the reason my father became a different man. Drugs are the reason my mother lost faith. Drugs are the reason thousands die every year while children are exploited, families are destroyed, and the global economy crumbles.
I don’t acknowledge Emilio as he saunters in, but I’m curious about the pile he sets on my desk. Strolling over to it, I find a note attached to a pencil and a sketchpad on top of the pile. The pencil is of the harder variety. In fact, its lead is so hard, I could use it as a cutter.
Leonara,
Thank you for the striptease. It was the best I’ve ever seen.
Daniel
The note brings me back to the fact that I undressed in front of him without a second thought. I’m not a prude. I run around Sam’s house naked all the time. Ruby hates it, especially when her boyfriend, Jesse, is around. Why should I wear clothes at home when I feel comfortable without them? My body is neither as curvy as Kendra’s, nor as slender as Sam’s, and certainly not as athletic as Skyla’s. I’ve got nothing to hide and nothing to show.
Granted, I just wanted to test his boundaries. Men like him live for control. If you want to find their weakness, your best chance is to confuse or distract them. And confuse him I did, if the astonishment on his face was anything to go by.
Underneath the sketchpad is a big, square box, another note sticking to it.
Dinner tomorrow, 8:00 p.m., and I’ll answer all your questions.
“Hell, no,” I mutter when I open the box, a mass of expensive fabric stuffed inside. The label reads Harvey Nichols. Never heard of the designer, but I’m sure Kendra would volunteer to get kidnapped by Daniel to get her hands on this piece.
For some reason, a wave of melancholy washes over me. If I ever were to wear a dress for the first time in my life, it should be for Sam’s wedding, not to impress an arrogant asshole whose records are as clean as Pablo Escobar’s.
Raking a hand through my hair, I weigh up my options. What are the odds I can escape? Close to zero, I assume.
Surveying the room, I search for anything helpful. In the end, I come up with two things—the pencil, which I stuff into my pants, and the black, lacy bra that came with the dress, which I hurl around my neck. I guess Daniel didn’t want me to wear my sports bra under the designer piece. Too bad I won’t give him the satisfaction.
Switching off the lights, I pretend to go to sleep and tiptoe to the window. Assessing the property, I count three guards blocking my way to the gate about fifty yards straight ahead. Guard One paces the pathway directly below me. Guards Two and Three stand sentry on either side of the gates—gates with sharp spikes, I might add.
Twines of ivy snake up the wall below my window that could help me reach the ground safely. Could, in bold letters and with three exclamation marks.
Pushing all thoughts of failure to the back of my mind, I carefully open the window. The moonlight shines from behind the mansion, so I remain mostly hidden in the shadows. With a last breath for bravery, I step over the windowsill and reach for the ivy.
Halfway down, I scratch my hand and hiss, attracting Guard One’s attention. My heart pumps loudly as I watch him looking left and right, but after a moment, he shrugs and returns to his usual post. When I’m assured I can take the last feet in a leap, I adjust my grip so I can easily use my hands. Snatching the bra from my neck, I hook my fingers through the straps and pull them like a slingshot, taking aim.
With a snap, the bra sails wide until it lands in the pool, causing Guard One to whirl around and hurry over to the source of the sound. I use the moment to sprint over the ground, but unfortunately, the guy turns around just as I pass him. I rip the headset from his ear, and a shove makes him stumble and plunge into the pool.
I only have seconds to dart over the ground and dive for cover behind a fountain. When the guy resurfaces, he shouts, causing the other two men to rush to his aid.
“Nice,” I mumble to myself, now having a clear field to reach the gates. Making sure the unit is busy firing orders, I dash for the gates, climbing the rungs in a hurry. Carefully lifting my legs over the spikes, I leap down, the impact jarring my bones and shooting pain up my leg.
With a last glance over my shoulder, I scramble up and run for freedom, two guards already on my heels. Not knowing where to go, I decide to leave the road and go for the wilderness instead, hoping to minimize their chances of catching me.
My hope is short-lived, though, because a flashlight swerving over the space is my only warning before someone crashes into me from behind, making me lose all sanity for a second. The guy yanks me up, and I snatch my pencil, plunging it into his calf. He goes down with a howl of pain, but I didn’t count on Javier already hard on my heels.
Before I know what’s happening, he has his tie wrapped around my wrists and hauls me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. I don’t bother to scream and just hang my head.
“Damn, I was so close…”
Javier’s back vibrates as he chuckles at my comment.
~~~
All the guards shoot me sharp glares when we pass. I grin at the one who looks like a poodle in the rain with the bra in his fist and bristling with fury, but it vanishes when I’m carried back to my room where a furious Daniel waits for me.
He nods his head to Javier who takes the cue and sets me down. I don’t know what awaits me, but when Javier forces my shackled hands up and hooks them through the chain dangling from the ceiling, I panic.
With a rough shove, Javier spins me around so I’m facing the wall, then rips my top open in one swift movement, leaving my back bare. My mind goes blank, and I scream from the top of my lungs as horrible memories force their way to the surface.
“What do you want from me?” I scream. The guards leave, ignoring me altogether. Daniel stays behind me, and I feel his ominous presence like an evil shadow.
“As impressed as I am you got past three of my men, let me ask you…” A breeze wafts over my bare back as I feel him stepping closer. “Where did you want to go once you were outside?” he requests, seemingly unfazed by me drowning in a pitch of agony.
His words barely register, and I close my eyes in hopes of chasing away the rising nausea. Against my will, a tear rolls down my cheek. His hand comes up in front of my face, prompting me to open my eyes, and I quiver as Daniel catches the tear and wipes it from my cheek.
“Do you know what kind of danger lurks out there?” he drawls while brushing the remains of my top from one shoulder. “Do you know how many people are buried underneath this land—victims of an everlasting drug war turning the country into a mass grave?” With help from his finger, my top slides down the other shoulder, the fabric now hanging loosely from my arms. “Believe me, you’re safer here than out there,” he whispers in my ear, and for one second, I believe him.
Just as my heart rate calms, Daniel moves his hands to my hips, pressing me back into his body.
“No, please!” I whine as shame and rage mix with my fear.
Daniel answers with yanking my hair, exposing my neck and letting me cry out in terror. “Why are you screaming like that all of a sudden? What do you think I’m gonna do, huh?” he hisses. “Hit you? Kill you? Fuck you?” I just shake my head, trying to wriggle free from his grip. “I admit, one thought is quite appealing,” he answers his own question, clawing his fingers into my skin. My answer is a garbled choke.
Finally, Daniel spins me around, pressing me against the wall and grabbing my chin. Fear keeps me immobile, but now that he’s not behind me anymore, the tension in my body subsides, something that doesn’t escape his notice.
“What happened to you?” he demands, eyes roaming between mine as his gaze claws its way into my soul. I clench my teeth, desperate to shut him out, but I feel him reading the answer on my face.
I can’t hide from him.
He knows.
Endless seconds drag by, our ragged breathing the only sound in the room before Daniel breaks the silence.
“Is the motherfucker dead?” I blink, surprised by the lethal edge in his tone that I imagine his enemies get to hear all the time. Is it that obvious what happened to me? Do I have rape victim stamped on my forehead?
“Is… he… dead?” he repeats, louder this time and with his face a lot closer than before—so close, our noses nearly touch.
He relaxes visibly when I manage a nod. With his gaze glued to mine, he frees me from the chain. A few seconds of silence tick by.
“Which thought?” I ask when he undoes the knot around my wrists.
Daniel frowns. “What?”
“You said ‘one thought is quite appealing.’ Which one of the three?”
A strange sparkle in his eyes is my only warning before his teeth clamp down on my lower lip, sucking it into his mouth. A mixture of a yelp and a moan escapes me as his teeth play with my lip ring, but before I can truly relish the feeling, he pulls back.
“Do you really want to find out?” And with that, he leaves.
“Yes, I do,” I whisper to myself, utterly bewildered by what just happened.