6. Josiah
After Javi left my room, he immediately approached the nurses” desk to request more information about Elisa”s condition. The nurses informed him that Elisa hasn’t been discharged yet.
I need to see her.
I need to confirm that she is real and not a mere hallucination, not my disorder fucking with my head. It wouldn”t be the first time I”ve seen shit that wasn”t there.
I don’t remember much from when I was taken. But when I came to, I remember the assholes forcing meds through me. At first, I struggled against them when they shoved the pills down my throat, thinking it was some hallucinogenic because the moment I saw Elisa bringing me water, I about lost my shit.
Elisa didn”t look like the girl I fell in love with. She looked lost and broken, her shoulders slumped as if carrying a heavy weight. Her face was no longer the same round shape I was familiar with. Instead, it appeared thinner, like she had been without food for days. Her once beautiful, long, wavy, strands of brown hair now seemed weak and lifeless, almost like straw. I hesitated to run my fingers through it, fearing it would fall out in clumps. Even her plump lips, which I used to love to kiss and suck, were now dry and chapped.
Every day, her eyes were full of regret. The skin around them crinkled like paper shriveling up, revealing the pain that she had been carrying for so long. As the days went on, I couldn”t help but notice how dramatically her body had changed. The curves that once made her so beautiful were replaced by a frail and fragile figure. It was as if the life had been sucked out of her, leaving behind only a shell of her former self. My blood boiled with anger at seeing what her brothers had done to her.
They kept me alive as punishment and to fuck with my head. She would plead with her brothers to let me go. They responded with a whip. I can still hear the way it connected with her skin and the screams that came out of her little body. It was as if she was being eaten alive. I cried like a little girl every time they hurt her. I tried to free myself from the chains, but there was nothing I could do but listen to them torment her. I wanted to rip their spines out and give each one of them a slow and torturous death. When I hadn’t seen her for a few days, I feared they had killed her. It tore me the fuck up, not knowing until days later when she would bring me water and food that she was still alive.
The guards’ constant presence made it difficult for us to talk. I didn”t want to take any chances that could compromise her safety. Our communication was limited to a few glances, and at one point, she mouthed, “I love you” and “I”m sorry.”
Fuck it.
I gingerly slide my legs off the edge of the bed, bracing myself for the inevitable jolt of pain that shoots through my body. Every breath and movement hurts like a bitch. I”m grateful for Mom bringing regular clothes—a soft pair of sweats and a loose-fitting T-shirt—so I don’t have to wear the scratchy hospital gown. The familiarity of my clothes is a small comfort, a reminder of the life that awaits me outside these sterile walls.
I reach for the pole and drag it along, taking one slow, cautious step after another. Finally, I reach the door and step out into the hallway.
Javi said Elisa’s room is on the floor above mine. I head toward the elevator, pressing the up button. The doors slide open, and I walk inside, eager to see my girl. As I enter, my metal pole gets stuck between the door and the floor. I try to pull it out, but it’s a stubborn little fucker. “Maldita sea.” I clench my teeth as I yank it out of the crack. When I look up, I see a male nurse watching me.
“Couldn’t help me, fucker?” I glare at him.
I swiftly turn my back on him, not giving him a chance to respond. I step into the elevator, and just as the doors are about to close, a nurse calls out my name. It’s Abby, the primary nurse who has looked after us. I turn my head and notice the scowl on her pretty face, her arms over her chest, ready to rip off my junk. I can’t help but smirk as the doors glide closed, leaving the disgruntled nurse behind.
I shift my weight and press my back against the rough surface of the cab wall, trying to ignore the pain that courses through my arms and legs. As the elevator doors slide open, revealing Elisa”s floor, I pause, uncertain about what”s to come. Javi told me that Elisa”s mother, Consuela, has been the only one to visit her. Elisa”s father passed away when she was young, so Consuela raised her alone. Though she never really approved of me, I always believed I was good enough for her daughter. Now, I can”t help but feel like I”ve let Elisa down. Maybe she was right since I failed to protect her when she needed me the most.
As I approach Elisa”s room, my heart races, and my palms become sweaty. Elisa”s door is slightly open, allowing me to peek inside and make sure she’s alone. I take slow and quiet steps as I enter the room, and my breath catches when I see her tiny figure lying on the bed with her back facing me. I glance over my shoulder and carefully close the door until it clicks shut.
Dragging my IV pole along with me, I take small and measured steps to avoid startling her. The room is much brighter than mine, almost like it was meant for her. The shades are open, and the bright sun shines, illuminating little dust particles that float in the air. The windowsill has cards, three large vases of flowers and balloons. As I walk closer to see who sent them, I can”t help but smile when I recognize the names of some of the senders: Javi and Gabby, Mom and the girls, and Consuela.
I walk closer to her bed, taking the empty chair beside it. Elisa”s eyes are still closed, her head resting on her arm and the other tucked underneath her pillow. From this angle, she looks peaceful. Her face is regaining its natural color, her cheeks are filling in, and her lips are no longer chapped. They”re getting back to their natural red. Her hair is clean and pulled up in a ponytail. I gently ghost my knuckle down her cheek to her chin.
As if she can sense me, she slowly opens her eyes. I feel a tug at my heartstrings as I look at her and see the empty look in her beautiful hazel eyes that was left behind by her brothers.
”Jo?” she whispers, barely audible.
”Yes, baby. It”s me.” I smile at her, trying to hide the sadness that I feel inside.
She quickly sits up, and I help steady her as she nearly jumps into my lap, wrapping her arms around my neck as I wrap my arms around her. I can feel her trembling, so I hold her closer.
”Oh, my God, Jo,” she cries against my neck.
I rub her back, trying to soothe her. I take in the sweet scent of peonies I”ve missed so much.
”It”s okay, Elisa. I”m here now.”
”I”m so glad you”re okay,” she whimpers.
She clings to me like she”s afraid I”ll vanish when I try to pull away. ”Elisa, I want to look at you,” I say in a calm tone.
She kisses my neck softly, creating goosebumps on my skin. When she pulls away, our faces are so close together, I could kiss her, but I don”t. And I won”t. Not yet.
She sits on her side facing me, and I can see the pain and fear in her eyes.
”I can”t believe you”re really here. Fuck.” My heart is pounding in my chest and tears well up in my eyes as I take her in. ”I”m so fucking sorry for not protecting you,” I whisper, my voice cracking and the tears falling.
As she reaches out for me, her hand trembles before she pulls back, like she”ll get burned. Her eyes are filled with sorrow, and streams of tears are falling down her face, leaving glistening trails on her skin.
”Don”t be afraid to touch me, baby. Please,” I beg, wanting her to know I never stopped loving her. Never stopped wanting her. And no matter what happened, I don”t hold anything against her because none of it was her fault.
“I’m not afraid of you, Jo,” she says, her voice hoarse. “I didn’t think you wanted to see me,” she says in a broken voice.
I move my chair closer, dragging the pole along, and reach out to clasp her hand. Concern laces my voice as I ask her, ”Why would you say that?” I try to ease her anxiety by rubbing small circles over her hand, just like I used to do to calm her down.
Her eyes, a beautiful shade of gold with a hint of green, rise to meet mine. Her lips part in an ”O,” and her eyes widen in apprehension. ”Because of what they did to you. Because of me,” she whispers. Tears stream down her face as she looks down.
”It wasn”t your fault, Elisa. I never once thought that. Do you believe me?” I tilt her chin gently to make her look at me and wipe away her tears. She places her hand on mine as I cup her face, and she leans into me, clinging to my shirt, craving my touch as if it can erase everything that has happened.
Her eyes reveal the pain and hurt that she”s been carrying all along. ”I thought I lost you for good,” she confesses. Her voice is tinged with sadness and regret. ”Jo, I”m afraid things will never be the same between us.”
I pause for a moment, absorbing the weight of her words. We both went through a traumatic experience, and the road toward healing will be long and arduous. But hearing her articulate the same fear that has been gnawing at me only heightens my anxiety. Losing her again would be unbearable.
I nod, offering her a sympathetic smile. ”Baby, it”s going to take time. Healing doesn”t happen overnight,” I reassure both her and myself.
”But what if we can”t move past this, Jo?” she asks in a shaky voice. “What if we”re never able to go back to how things were before?”
”My love for you never went away. You were there for me when I was struggling to keep my shit together. If you still love me, then we can heal together. We’ll never be alone.” I gently hold her face with both hands, and she reaches out to grasp my wrists. With a slight tilt of my head, I look deeply into her eyes and ask, “Do you love me?”
She glares at me like I lost my fucking mind. “Of course I do,” she says without any display of doubt. “Don’t ever question that again.”
I can’t help but let out a chuckle. “There’s my girl,” I tease her.
Suddenly, her face changes, and a small smile appears that quickly fades away. Her voice quivers, and before I know it, she breaks down sobbing. “I’m so sorry, Jo. I—I’m so so-sorry.”
With the last bit of energy I can muster, I pull her toward me and seat her on my lap, not giving two shits about the IV tubes yanking out from my skin.
As my fingers graze her stomach, I feel a sudden urge to ask about the baby we lost. We both need to be emotionally prepared to discuss it, and I am simply not ready to confront the reality of the situation just yet. So I hold back, silently acknowledging our unspoken understanding that the conversation will come when the time is right.
The weight of her emotions is evident in the way her shoulders shake as she sobs, and how her breath comes in ragged gasps as she struggles to compose herself.
As she shudders in my embrace, I hold her as close to me as possible, trying to offer whatever comfort I can.