Chapter Twenty-five
Vida
M y head throbs. The ache at the back of my neck is sharp, and I can feel it move to my eyes as I open them, making it hard to focus on anything but the pounding and aching. I blink a few times, trying to clear my blurry vision, but all I can see is darkness. The air feels cold and thick, it smells like dust and damp walls. I touch the rough and splintered wood floor beneath me. It’s old, cracked, and almost wet.
I move slowly, wincing as pain spreads through my body. Every inch of it hurts, from my legs to my ribs, then down my arms. Everywhere feels bruised, reminding me of how they had grabbed me. At the time, nothing hurt when they tried to take me or when I fought back. But now, my body is paying the price.
I tried to do everything I could, the kicking, screaming, and even the clawing. I remember everything, how my fists pounded into one’s face, the sharp pain of the needle they pierced into my neck, how I still tried to resist, but it wasn’t enough. Nothing I did mattered.
Here I am, wherever “here” is. I look around the shitty, unkempt room that looks like no one has stepped foot in it for years. The walls are peeling, the colors having faded so much it is hard to tell what color it originally was. The window high up on the far side is covered in something I can’t make out, the thing barely letting any light through. It feels like a cage; a prison fit for me.
“Fuck!” I curse under my breath, trying to push myself up, but the pain in my body has other plans, making me fall back to the ground.
I stay still, feeling the bruises ache, which only adds to the pain pounding at the forefront of my head. I wince as I touch the cut on my hand, trying to bite back the cry that threatens to escape. They really did a number on me, I try to chuckle. How am I really cracking jokes at this point? I wonder.
Ciro.
His name lands in my thoughts like a crashing plane. He must’ve come to get me and didn’t find me. It hurts that I tried to fight for him. But why did I care? He left me there in the first place!
“Not now,” I whisper, letting out a long sigh. This isn’t the time or place to be getting angry. Despite the situation and how I’m feeling, I know Ciro will find me. He has to.
I hold onto that thought as a beacon of hope as I rub my thumb over the ring on my finger, hoping he found the pair I left behind. Carmela knows about the rings, so if he found it, they should be finding me soon.
My chest tightens as I imagine the worst, wondering if maybe he didn’t see it. What if I didn’t drop it in the right spot, or if Carmela didn’t remember what I’d told her. How will they . . . I shake my head. It’s Ciro, and I’m his wife. He’ll find it. He has to. Ciro isn’t the type to let anything slip by him, especially not when it has to do with me vanishing into thin air.
I take a deep breath, letting my confidence sink in, and push aside my anger for him. He is my only hope and the only person I would trust to burn the world down for me. I’m his duty.
I run my thumb over the cool metal of the ring again, closing my eyes for a second, and letting the feeling ground me. It might be stupid, but it gives me the tiniest shred of hope. He’ll come. He has to be looking for me already. I can’t afford to think otherwise.
Ciro will save me and that is all that matters.
I glance around again, trying my best to find a way out of here. The room is barely furnished, just a wooden chair in the corner and a battered wardrobe with its door hanging off the hinges. No bed, no table. Nothing to tell me where I am or who has brought me here.
I swallow the lump in my throat before trying to get up again. I push to my feet, swaying as dizziness threatens to knock me back down. I’m not going to let it! Ciro is on his way to me, and I’ll be on mine to him.
Breathe. Just breathe. I tell myself, trying to find some balance on my feet.
I force my legs to steady beneath me, ignoring the sharp pain from the bruises on my thighs and ribs. I take a slow step forward, then another, heading for the door that feels like it’s a million steps away. The closer I get, the more my stomach tightens and the fear of what is on the other side sinks into my mind. My hand finally grabs onto the doorknob, and I hesitate for a split second before I grip it tight and twist.
It doesn’t budge. Of course not. Who would kidnap someone and leave the door open?
I sigh before I let go of the knob. I take one step back and look around the room again. There has to be something, anything, I can use. My gaze lands on the broken mirror that hangs on the wall. It looks like it has seen more years than I have. I catch sight of my reflection, and fuck, I look like hell! My hair is wild, my dress is wrinkled and torn in places, and my face has bruises all over it. Dark smudges mark my cheekbone and temple, a reminder that I must’ve really pissed them off when I fought back.
Not like it matters, but I hope I look better when Ciro finds me. He’s seen me in some of my worst moments, but I don’t want to add this to the list.
I turn to face the door again. I have to get out of here. I’m not waiting around for someone to come and do something worse than this to me. Ciro will come, but I can’t just sit around and be miserable.
My fingers move to the pin holding some strands of my hair, sliding it out slowly. Trying to create a makeshift lock-pick isn’t the best plan, but it’s better than nothing. I bend down slowly by the door, my hands shaking as I carefully slip the pin into the keyhole. I try to keep my breathing calm, but the pounding in my chest only makes the process harder as I keep working on the lock.
“Come on, come on,” I beg as I continue.
“Yes!” I whisper in excitement as I hear the door click open with a soft creak. I slowly get up, opening the door as silently as I can. My heart pounds in my chest as I carefully step out, the cold air hitting me almost sending me to my knees. I scan the hallway, but there’s no one in sight. The empty, dim hallway stands in front of me with stairs at the end. I don’t know where they lead, but anywhere has to be better than the room I was locked in.
I take my first step, making sure I don’t make a single sound as I go. I tiptoe forward, my breathing steady. Every step feels like an impossible mission and my pulse echoes in my ears, making it hard to listen for anything with how loud it’s beating. A part of me wants to run back into the room and stay where there isn’t any risk of being caught, or worse, shot at, but I can’t stop now. Not when I’m this close. My legs are aching, my bruises becoming worse as the air touches them, but I keep moving. I’m not going to stop.
Just as I think about stopping to take a breath, I spot it; the door.
Freedom.
It’s just ahead, a few more steps and I will be running out of here, as fast and far as my legs will take me. My breath quickens as I pick up my pace, the thought of escaping and finally seeing the sky pulls me closer to the door. I can almost taste the fresh air outside, feel the ground on my feet, and most of all, be one step closer to home, to him. Just a little closer and I’ll be out of this garbage dump.
My fingers finally touch the doorknob, and as I begin to turn it, I feel a rough hand grab my shoulder, yanking me backward so forcefully I can feel the pain ricochet through my body.
I barely register what is happening before a fist crashes itself into my face. The blow is hard and sudden, causing pain to explode in my head. It sends me straight to the ground, my elbows cutting open as the broken wood pierces my skin.
“You bitch!” I hear the man’s voice say harshly. He sounds angry and bitter. “You’ve caused enough trouble.”
I try to scramble to my feet as he moves towards me, but my legs feel like rocks, too heavy to move, while my body is way too weak to fight back. The man stands over me, his shadow covering the light that comes from the window on the door.
Before I can manage to find some balance, he grabs me by the arm and pulls me up, his grip bruising me and causing even more pain.
I swing at him, desperate to break free to make one last attempt to reach for the door knob and run, but my strength is gone. I have nothing left in me.
My vision blurs and the room begins to spin as his palm lands on my face in a hot, nasty slap. I crumple to the floor again, the sharp sting of the hit still ringing in my ears. I’m certain I can see stars, or maybe, the world is just blacking out again.
My chest heaves with shaky breaths as I lay here, defeated, broken, and helpless. I can barely keep my eyes open. All I can see is the door, the one that I’d been so close to escaping through. I watch as it gets farther and farther away as he drags me back.
All the hope I had held onto the moment the door clicked open begins to vanish as he pulls me like a sack of cement. All I have now is an overwhelming sense of defeat and fear.
I am back in that awful room. Back to square one.
“Cause any more trouble and I’ll be the one to end your sorry life,” the man says as he throws me inside, slamming the door shut behind him.
For the first time since Adam died, I’m afraid of dying. The moment I watched him bleed to death in my arms, I wanted to follow him. I wanted him to take me with him. Yet here I am, death standing only a few steps away, and I am afraid. For the first time, I realize how much I want to hold onto life.
I collapse onto the cold floor, the metallic taste of blood filling my mouth. My body is too battered to fight anymore. I stare at the door, tears forming behind my eyelids. I have nothing left. All I can do now is wait. Wait for Ciro. He will come. He will save me. It is him and I against the world.
It’s an unspoken truth that existed the moment we took our vows, a truth I have fought against at every turn, but one he has tried to sew into my skull every single time.
I cry as I lay on the damp wooden floor, feeling numb and helpless. My heart aches, not only because of my situation, but because I miss Adam. I miss him so much it hurts that he isn’t the one I long for.