Trigger warning: This chapter includes an SA scene. It will be marked within the text, so please skip if this material could be upsetting to you.

Over the next few weeks, Miguel is in a rotten mood without any apparent reason. A few times, I carefully probe to get to the source, but his angry glare, demanding I mind my own business, immediately shuts me up. Nothing is left of the charming man who once dazzled me, and I stay out of his way as much as possible. Luckily, his work requires his full attention. Most evenings, he doesn't return to the mansion until just before dinner; his busy schedule even keeps him from visiting his Nana.

I return to my patrol duty with Tomás, who watches me like a hawk, and after my shifts, I hang out by the pool with Naiara or stay at the compound. Shauna isn't around much, putting our escape plans on hold.

One evening, when I ask Miguel if I can send my mom an email for her birthday, he slaps me across the face, which I take as a no. After that, I walk on eggshells around him. Taking Shauna's approach to keep quiet unless spoken to works surprisingly well, and I withdraw into my own little world. Mealtimes especially become an excruciating affair. Miguel glares sullenly while Naiara entertains the whole table with her chitchat; she's planning a trip to Miami to shop for her summer wardrobe. I don't even bother to ask my fiancé if I can tag along, certain the answer won't be in the affirmative.

After a month, Tomás finally stops going on patrol, making me once again troop leader with Emilien as my trusted translator. When we climb onto the truck, he finds the farthest seat away from me, and on our way into the city, he ignores me. I worry about his odd behavior. What if Miguel or Tomás threatened him? Yet for the moment, I can't deal with it, my mind occupied with my own scheming. Today's rounds will be the perfect opportunity to visit Shauna.

We get to the town square and I give out the assignments, instructing Emilien to keep an eye on things. He nods his agreement; when I take off, he doesn't question me. Shauna said she lives only three blocks away from the church and I find the house on Calle St. Andrés without any issues. Her and Tomás's home is in an area reserved for higher-level soldiers, and the powder blue bungalow looks spacious with several dormers set in the roof. When I push open the squeaky gate to the front yard, Shauna's face appears in the window. Her lips split into a wide grin.

She opens the door, her gaze darting to the left and right a few times as I step inside. The house is cool and a light scent of pine lingers in the air. Everything is tidy and spotless; it reminds me more of a museum where you aren't allowed to touch anything rather than a home.

Shauna ushers me into the kitchen and offers to prepare tea. She seems spooked, flinching a few times by a sudden noise from the outside, and her hand shakes as she adds water to an old-fashioned iron kettle.

"You okay?" I ask.

She sniffles, the back of her hand wiping her nose. A little bit of dried blood has crusted around her nostrils. "It has been hell. I'm still not pregnant and Tomás is starting to freak out. I'm not allowed to leave the house anymore unless it's with him or his sister. She comes over every day to check up on me and teach me Spanish. At night—"

Her voice breaks, but she doesn't have to continue to fill in the blanks. I'm sure forced sex is on the agenda; knowing Tomás, he doesn't cut Shauna any breaks. I have a lot of respect for him as a soldier, but he's a horrible human being. It's as if he's two different people.

"How did you end up in Malaguay?"

"I met Tomás online and he was the sweetest guy you can imagine." She wipes her nose again as tears threaten to spill. "When I got here, he had totally changed. He was constantly in a foul mood and really short-tempered. He slapped me on the second day. When I demanded to leave, he shouted that he would rather see me dead than back in Ireland. Two weeks later, he forced me to marry him." A few tears roll down her cheeks and are quickly wiped away. "I mean, what was I supposed to do? He might've killed me if I had said no."

The pain in her wide eyes is so tormenting that I can't hold her gaze. "Does he beat you often?"

"Not really. When we get into a bad fight, he loses his temper, but most of the time, he just yells. It's horrible since I have no idea what sets him off. And of course, nothing I do is ever good enough."

"So how do I get us out?"

For a second, she closes her eyes, sucking in a deep breath. "Have you seen the warehouses by the river?"

I nod.

"Just two blocks north of that is the restricted foreign section. The wall runs along the warehouses, but there's a gate about half a mile back toward the city center. Shift change is at seven-thirty and you have to go in right before that." She pours water onto the tea leaves. "Do you want sugar?"

"Yeah, two spoons." I hate the bitter taste of Malaguian tea but don't want to be rude. "How do I get by the guards?"

"There're usually only two of them. Tell them you need their help by the truck and that you'll cover the post until their replacement arrives. You're patrol leader and Miguel's fiancé, so they won't question you, especially if it's only a few minutes to shift change. As soon as they're gone, you're set."

I sip the tea; this sounds easier than I thought. "What about the new shift? Won't they call it in if they find the post abandoned?"

"Probably, but what do you care? You'll be at the embassy or on your way home by the time Miguel finds out about it."

She's got a point. Crazy as it seems, this could actually work. The plan is so simple that there's hardly room for error.

"Did you ever try to get through the gate?"

The tears are back in her eyes. "Yes. I told the guards that Tomás sent me to drop something off at the embassy. They didn't buy it and called him to confirm." When she takes a mouthful from her cup, her whole body trembles.

"What did he do?" I don't really want to know, certain that his punishment was gruesome.

"He totally lost it and screamed at me for hours, saying that this time, I'd get away with a warning. The next time, he'll cut off my foot."

Nausea rises in my throat and I turn away. "I'm sorry, Shauna." I can't even picture the agony and fear that she went through. No wonder Tomás has so much control over her.

The front door opens and closes and a voice drifts through the house. "Niña, dónde estás?"

"En la cocina." Shauna's voice drops to a whisper. "That's Tomás's sister. Just smile and let me do the talking."

A woman who is significantly older than Tomás walks in. Though she's pretty in her own way, her appearance can't compare to the stunning beauty of her brother. With a huff, she heaves a large bag of apples on the counter. Her hazel eyes study me with a frown.

"Quién es ella?" she asks.

"Mi amiga, Stacy."

"Dios mío." She wipes her palms on her kitchen apron. "La novia del hijo del presidente." She offers me her hand. "Es un honor."

I reluctantly shake her hand, figuring she's happy to meet me. "It's nice to meet you, too."

Her gaze wanders to Shauna with bewilderment. "Qué dijo ella?"

"Ella dice que es un placer conocerte."

"Ooh." A slow smile unfurls from the corners of her lips.

I find her creepy and jump to my feet. "I should go. Thanks for the tea, Shauna."

For a moment, our eyes meet; hopefully, this will be the last time we'll see each other in Malaguay.

When I close the door behind me, I already hear Tomás's sister cutting into her sister-in-law, yelling in an imperious tone. Shauna's life sucks even worse than mine. I can't wait to get us both out of this hellhole.

~~~~

The next blow is delivered by Emilien on our way back to the compound. I make it a point to sit beside him, striking up a conversation as soon as we leave the city limits.

"Is everything okay?"

"Yes." He stares straight ahead, unable to look at me.

Determined to get to the bottom of this, I continue to probe. "Did Miguel or Tomás order you not to talk to me?"

"They didn't have to." He lights a cigarette, blowing the smoke away from me.

"What happened?"

He slowly turns, taking a drag from his cigarette. "Did you tell Miguel that I was still visiting my sister?"

Heat burns my face. "He almost broke my arm to get that information."

"I guess it was my fault for even telling you. I should've known that sooner or later, you'd blab about it." His whole face is void of emotions.

An uneasy sensation crawls up my spine. "What did he do?"

Emilien tosses away the cigarette without responding.

"Emilien, please. You have to tell me."

When he finds my eyes, his whole face is twisted in agony. "He sent a few men out to the orphanage. They raped my sister after cutting out her tongue. Miguel figured if she couldn't talk anymore, there was no reason for me to visit."

Bile rises in my throat. "I'm so sorry."

"What the hell were you thinking, Stacy? Didn't you realize there'd be severe repercussions if you told him?" His voice trembles with desperation and anger; I totally screwed up.

"I really am sorry, Emilien. I never thought he'd go after your sister." I stare at the bed of the truck, so he wouldn't see my tears.

"Yeah, whatever." Though he still sounds incredibly angry, his tone has softened. "I guess you really didn't know."

The rest of the ride is spent in silence. The second the truck pulls up in front of the compound, I jump off and storm toward the SUV. When I order the driver to take me back to the mansion, I meet Tomás's gaze. He looks pissed for some reason, but I can't worry about his temper tantrums. All I want is to crawl into bed and have a good cry.

~~~~

At some point, I drift into a dreamless slumber, utterly exhausted from all my tears. The loud bang of the door wakes me with a startle and the covers under which I'm hiding are torn away.

"What were you doing at Shauna's house?" Miguel yells in my face.

I blink at him, still drowsy from sleep. His furious eyes work like a freezing bucket of water being poured over me.

"Nothing." I crawl farther under the covers, craving to be invisible. "I hadn't seen her in a while and just wanted to say hello."

He squints at me and I give him my best innocent smile, praying he'll buy my story.

"Okay, I'll let it slide this time, but I don't want you around her unless you've got permission from me or Tomás. Is that clear?"

I swallow hard. "Yes. I just don't understand—"

"You don't need to understand. I only want you to do what is expected of you. Is that so difficult?"

"No."

His gaze burns holes into my forehead while he studies me. I twitch under the covers.

"What's wrong with your eyes?"

"What do you mean?"

"You look like you've been crying."

I decide to play dumb. "Must be from sleeping."

"No. I know how you look when you cry. Your eyes are always really red and so is your nose. What were you crying about?"

I feverishly think of an excuse. If I tell him the truth about Emilien, he'll most likely kill him. "I guess I'm just homesick."

"Is this still about that damn email?"

"No, it's just in general."

When his face darkens, I smile at him.

"This is your home now, Stacy." He stares at me as if he wants to hypnotize me. "You should embrace this new life."

"I am. I love Malaguay."

"Good." He finally walks toward the door.

I breathe a silent sigh of relief, sending a quick prayer up to heaven. This was a close call.

He reaches for the doorknob but then spins around. "Yet I don't understand why you feel the need to lie to me."

My cheeks start to burn under his intense glare. "I didn't lie—"

"I know about Emilien. Tomás noticed how upset you were when you got back, so we questioned him."

The image of the tortured DEA agent flashes through my mind and all color drains from my face. "What did you do to him?"

"That truly shouldn't be your concern."

When he turns the key in the lock, I realize he never intended to leave. My hands shake as I pull the covers up to my nose. "Miguel, I . . ."

This time, the words fail me. I have no idea how to get myself out of this bind. I glance at the balcony, but the room is on the third floor. The only way out is through the door, which is now locked.

He approaches slowly, and with every closing step, I crawl farther under the covers.

"I thought you understood the first time that I don't tolerate disobedience." His eyes burn like angry coals. "But what I hate the most are liars who think they can play me for a fool."

I gaze at the door and decide to make a run for it. With one swift move, I throw back the covers and jump out of bed, dashing across the soft carpet. I make it to the door, but before I can clutch the key, I'm torn back by my hair and tossed against the wall. With a whimper, I get to my feet and raise my fists.

He stands back, watching me with a smirk. "Are you really gonna fight me, Stacy?" He takes a step forward. "You, the little innocent girl from Indiana who hadn't even been kissed before she came here?" He laughs at my stunned face. "Yeah, Felipe told me all about it."

When he takes another step forward, I jump away, just for my back to hit the wall.

He cocks his head, his gaze traveling up and down my frame. "God, you're beautiful. I think for today's lesson, you should learn what men do to women who belong to them."

~~~~SA TRIGGER WARNING~~~~

His words stun me, and for a beat, I let down my guard. He seizes the opportunity by lunging forward and pinning me against the wall. One hand holds my wrists firmly in place above my head while his body works as an impenetrable wall. I struggle with all my might, but my strength is no match for his iron grip.

"Hold still and it will hurt less." He grabs a bushel of my hair, jerking me until my chest slams on top of the waist-high dresser. His hand moves under my nightgown and the fabric of my panties tears. The sound sends chills through my body. My heart beats so fast that it threatens to crack my chest.

I kick backward but find no mark. He pulls my hair harder to demand my cooperation. My cheek lies flat on the cool smooth wood that still smells like lemon polish.

When I hear his zipper opening, I whimper. "Please, Miguel. Don't."

"Hold still." His elbow presses painfully into my spine. He forces my legs apart.

I cry out in anticipation, my whole face soaked from my tears. My lungs develop a mind of their own and I scream for help as loud as I can. Moving frantically, I try to get out of his tight grip, but a blow with his elbow to the middle of my back cuts off my oxygen. Immobilized, my muscles are no longer under my command. A sharp pain creeps up and down my spine.

Yet the pain is nothing in comparison to when he forces himself inside me, destroying the last bit of purity I had left. The torment carries on, a little piece of my heart dying with every hard thrust. By the time he's done, only numbness remains. My voice is hoarse, my throat raw and on fire. In that moment, I want to die. Luckily, he leaves. When my legs fail me, I sink to the floor.

~~~~SA TRIGGER WARNING END~~~~

I long for my mom, wishing she could hug me and kiss away my tears. Can she sense that something so terrible has happened to me? Then again, she might've stopped loving me. I couldn't blame her; I'm not a daughter she can be proud of.

Sobs shake my body and I tremble with pain. Every breath hurts and I'm unable to move. When my nose is all stuffed up and hiccups break the flow of my tears, I finally manage to crawl over to the bed. My arms are too weak to pull myself up. Shivering, I stay on the floor, every part of me sore and dirty.

Naiara is the one who finally comes to my aid. "Let's get you cleaned up. You'll feel better afterward."

I doubt it but allow her to heave me to my feet and guide me to the bathroom. Even under the hot shower, I can't stop shaking, my eyes fixed on the blood sucked down the drain. Only pain and numbness are left inside me; I have no clue how I'll ever manage to go on.

~~~~

© Sal Mason 2017

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