CHAPTER FIFTEEN
I have no idea when or how I fell asleep. But when I wake up, the sky outside is still a starless sea of clouds. Mumbling something incoherent, I open my eyes to see Toro standing on the other side of the room stepping into his overalls.
He’s towering over me within seconds, dropping down to his knees at the side of the bed with his lips curved upwards. He rubs his cheek against mine affectionately, running his fingers through my hair.
“You’ve got farm stuff to do today?” I ask, taking in his outfit and the fact his work boots are set by the door. He nods in response, still stroking me tenderly. “When will you be back?”
Toro shrugs, bringing his hand down to let his thumb rest on my cheek. Although being quiet is the norm for him, he seems extra quiet right now. He’s just staring at me, like he’s committing my face to memory or something cheesy like that.
Suddenly Toro’s forehead is pressed up against mine, one of his long arms pointed towards the window. He whimpers, pleading with me not to leave. Pleading with me to not try something so stupid again.
“I won’t… I’m not going to try and run away. I promise.”
With a yawn he squints at me, and at first I don’t know if he’s even going to believe me.
I tilt my head up to leave a gentle kiss at his forehead, which Toro melts into.
I can do something small like that, something sweet.
A low hum leaves him, and I swear he sounds like a cat purring for a second.
“Toro! Come on, boy! We gotta—” The door swings open and Damien peers in, immediately making a face at the two of us. “Good fuckin’ god… Get your ass up. We got shit to do.”
He doesn’t stick around for a response, his sour face disappearing back into the hallway. Toro makes a noise that sounds like a laugh, which makes me smile even wider. He kisses my forehead back, grabbing his boots and chasing after his brother.
I let myself fall back onto the bed, staring up at the old ceiling above me. I’m alone. It’s dark outside. If I ran now, I doubt I’d get caught. It would be so easy. But even thinking about it makes me think of something else: Toro. Just the thought of it makes my head spin.
His face contorted into pain, the sinking feeling in his stomach when he realizes I’m gone. I don’t ever want to do something like that to him. How could I? I think it would break me to hurt him like that. He’s not perfect, but he’s doing the best he can.
With a groan I force myself up, stretching before rising to my feet. Toro will probably be gone for a while, so now might be a good time to explore a bit. I’m still sort of afraid to interact with anyone who isn’t Alma, but maybe there’s some stuff in the room to keep me entertained.
I already know his bedside table is mostly filled with junk, so my sights are set on the closet. Last time I was more concerned about finding a weapon or something, this time I’m trying to find out about him.
Rummaging through his clothes doesn’t help at all, all I know now is that he sweats a lot.. It’s only when I kneel down and push some old overalls out of the way do I find it: a tiny little wooden box that seems to be missing the top part.
There’s only a handful of items inside. Most of them are little seed packets, but there’s one thing in there that catches my eye: a photo. I pull it out and flip it over to see Mr. Tavera standing next to the same woman from the photo on his bedside table.
His face is scratched out but not totally gone, but there’s nothing written on the back of anything to help really clue me in to what this is.
This has to be Mrs. Tavera, doesn’t it? Her features are so much like the rest of the family’s.
The same narrow eyes that Alma has, with the same strong nose that Toro and his brothers have.
A weird sense of guilt creeps over me, so I put the photo back.
I shouldn’t be snooping, I know that. But he doesn’t exactly talk, so finding things out about him isn’t easy.
Still, I don’t want to be this person—which is ironic considering he fucking eats people.
I tuck the box back where it was, stepping away from the closet and looking around to the rest of the room.
It really is barebones in here. It doesn’t seem like the space anyone should live in, let alone a grown man.
My attention flicks to the bathroom. Now seems like a good time to have a proper, thorough shower.
It’s the first time I’ve been alone in a while, and I’m not enjoying it nearly as much as I thought I would.
The ground underneath me is some kind of tiling. It's a pale amber orange, the walls peeling much like the rest of the house. But the sink and the bathtub are actually clean, even the toilet is clean. It’s nice to know he doesn’t live in total squalor.
Ridding myself of my clothes, I lean over the counter and just stare at my own reflection in the mirror.
My eyes wander down to my stomach, a little smile tugging at my lips.
I haven’t been eating much for the past week or so, and I definitely feel a bit smaller.
It’s nice, but it’s not enough. It’s never been enough, though.
Even when I went from a double XL size shirt to a medium, I was never really satisfied.
I quickly avert my gaze, stepping into the tub and fiddling with the water. It shoots out cold for a second, before turning lukewarm in temperature. It runs down my body, pitter-pattering on the porcelain beneath me. The noise is relaxing, like rain on a window
It was always my favorite thing back home, watching rain slide down the glass. I’ll probably never see that again, at least not from my place. No more late night Thai deliveries, either.
My life is totally and completely different now, regardless of how I feel.
There’s no excuses. Not for Toro, and not for myself. Even if he’s sweet, even if I like him, I’m trapped. I’m stuck. I can’t just hop in the family truck and drive back to town. Idle hands wash my physical body clean, but there’s something hidden underneath that won’t scrub away so easily.
Maybe it’s guilt.
All of my friends are dead. Well, except for Nadine, but I doubt she’s thinking about me right now.
I don’t even know if she made it back to town safe, and that kills me.
Sure, I didn’t always get along with them, but they were my friends.
Now they’re dead, and I’m out here cuddling and kissing the man who killed them
What really sets me apart from the rest of the family?