Chapter 22
Emma
My hands were shaking. I could barely rip open the plastic around the box.
Why the fuck do they need plastic wrap? I thought and resorted to ripping at the plastic with my teeth.
Finally, the protective layer gave way, and I tore into the pink box.
Inside, there were two plastic tests and a set of instructions.
How hard could it be to pee on a damn stick? But still, dutifully, I unfolded the instructions and gave it a read…and confirmed for myself that the instructions were self-explanatory anyway. The whole process was, frankly, undignified, and the three-minute wait after was downright cruel.
I stood in the small hall bathroom — in a wing far from mine and Angel’s room and his office so that I could dispose of the test in peace — and stared at the test strip. I watched as the control line appeared, and then seconds later, the positive line appeared.
I thought I was going to be shocked or something…but I wasn’t surprised in the least. Instead, a sense of calm settled in the pit of my stomach. My hand pressed there, as if I could feel the life that was taking root there, and tried to imagine the child that that life would become.
How do I feel about this? It wasn’t the first time I’d asked myself that question today, but now, it was relevant. The stick was positive. There was life. So…how did I feel about that life?
Unbidden, the image of my mother came to mind.
She had always been the most important person in my life; we were two peas, so to speak.
Her illness had left me with a lot of open wounds that I was still dealing with, but Angel had been right before, I cherished the good memories that I had of her.
She would have been thrilled to be a grandmother.
I could picture the whole thing: her helping me to set up a nursery, holding my hand at ultrasounds, scolding Angel for whatever dumb thing he said or did.
My eyes watered, and a smile worked its way across my face. “I promise I’ll do the best I can,” I said. “I’ll try and be as good as her.”
Wrapping up the used pregnancy test and shoving it back into the box, I pushed it all back into my purse.
I’d get rid of it after I told Angel about the pregnancy.
I wondered, momentarily, if I should plan some kind of cute announcement, but I quickly discarded that idea.
Angel wouldn’t like it if I waited any longer than the walk down the hall to tell him something so important.
He’d see it as me keeping things from him.
I washed my hands and smoothed my hair, making myself presentable, and then I stepped out into the hallway. How should I tell Angel? Just walk into his office and show him the test? Make him guess? Maybe I could —
Rough hands grabbed me, shoved me face-first into the wall, but when I tried to scream, a hand came down over my mouth.
“Shh, princesa,” a voice told me. I could hear the slight slur in it; the sharp tang of alcohol tickled at my nose.
Whoever this was had been drinking. “You’re such a beautiful woman,” the man mumbled against the back of my neck.
“Angel doesn’t know what kind of woman he has, does he? ”
His lips touched me, and I flinched, screaming again behind his hand. “Please! Stop this!” My words were muffled by his palm. I pushed back against him, but the man pressed me into the wall with all of his weight.
Fear like I had never felt before gripped me, even more than when Angel had threatened my life.
The news was littered with stories about women who get assaulted, but I had never thought that I would ever be in that situation.
I told myself that I would fight, that I would scream, but trapped as I was, I couldn’t do either.
Tears pricked at my eyes and slid down my cheeks.
“I know exactly what to do with a woman like you,” he said, and his hand moved heavily down my body.
My skin crawled. I couldn’t let this happen.
Steeling myself, I drove my head back into the man’s nose.
Pain exploded in the back of my head, but the man backed up with a groan, and I was able to wriggle away from him.
When I turned, I saw Angel’s Tío Andre with his hand to his now bleeding nose.
I tried to dart away from him, but he caught my arm, smearing his blood on my sleeve.
“Pinche puta,” Tío Andre growled, practically spitting. “Angel hasn’t taught you any manners. I’ll correct that now.”
He raised his hand, and I made myself as small as I could against the wall.
Before the older man could swing, a figure barreled into him, knocking him to the ground.
Angel stood between us, fierce and furious.
“You put your hands on my wife, Tío?” he asked, and he sounded so much like his father that it sent a chill down my spine.
The older man tried to make some excuse in Spanish that I didn’t even try to translate in my head. Whatever he said, Angel swore and reached behind him, as if to grab for the handgun that he wore at the small of his back. “Angel —”
He glanced at me over his shoulder, fire in his eyes. “Go to our room, Emma,” he spat. “Now.”
I didn’t argue; I turned on my heel and fled, and I didn’t stop until I reached the safety of our wing. I collapsed against our bed, heart pounding wildly. It’s okay, I told myself. It’s okay; nothing really happened. Angel got there before his Tío could take things too far.
My head throbbed from where it had connected with the man’s nose. I rubbed it; a bump was forming. No wonder my head hurt. A wave of dizziness hit me, and I sank back onto the mattress, unsure if I had given myself a concussion or if the day was just catching up to me.
I dozed for what felt like hours, but probably wasn’t that long, but snapped awake when I heard Angel tearing through the wing. His footsteps were heavy, angry, and I winced when he threw open the door, and it bounced off the wall.
“What the fuck where you thinking?” he snarled at me.
What? I pushed myself up into a sitting position; my head was spinning. “Are you seriously mad at me right now?” I asked in absolute disbelief. “Your uncle put his hands on me, and you’re mad at me?”
I didn’t realize that my voice was rising with each word, but Angel’s expression, a mix of being impressed and being furious, clued me in. “I told you not to go snooping around!”
“Who was snooping?” I shot back, pushing myself out of the bed and onto my feet. I had to hide the little stumble as my head throbbed. “I was in the bathroom, Angel. I wasn’t trying to unlock all of the locked doors in this place.”
“My uncles are dangerous around women,” Angel snapped, “especially beautiful ones.”
The anger that raged through me was, frankly, a little unsettling.
I hadn’t felt like this in a long time. “When did those words ever come out of your mouth?” I asked.
“You’ve told me over and over how no one would dare touch me because I’m married to you, so was that a load of horse shit?
Or is being passed around okay in the family? ”
Angel took a menacing step toward me, and a few weeks ago, I might have shrunk back and hid from it. Instead, I stepped to him, driven by an anger so hot that I felt like I was burning. “Watch what you say about my family, mi esposa.”
The ugly laugh was out of my throat before I could call it back.
“Am I not your family?” I asked. “Are they not my family? That’s what you’ve been saying, right?
That I’m a Castillo now?” He ground his jaw; I could practically hear his molars turning into powder.
“Look, I’d rather be alone, so could you just go away? Please?”
He wanted to argue; I could see it on his face. “Don’t go wandering off again.”
I scoffed. “Noted,” I said and knew that my tone was grating on his nerves.
He hated sarcasm nearly as much as his father; Lili had told me as much, and I’d seen his irritation with me from time to time.
When Angel didn’t move, I sighed. “Seriously, I just want to take a nap, all right? I have a headache.” I touched the back of my head; the knot throbbed.
“You did that to yourself,” he muttered.
“Yeah, to stop him from raping me,” I said, pulling down the covers on my side. “I’m such a horrible person.” I rolled onto my side, facing away from him. “Get. Out.”
“Emma —” His tone had shifted, like he was worried about me all of a sudden, and I couldn’t take it.
“Just go, Angel!” I shouted and curled myself into a ball. “I want to sleep.”
He stood for a moment longer, and then I heard him back out of the room. When the door closed behind him, the tears that I had been holding back sprang free, and I buried my face in the pillows to stifle the sobs.
Crying made my headache worse, but I couldn’t stop.
I had been such a fool to think that I was safe here, that I could trust someone like Angel to care enough about me to keep me safe.
I knew that he didn’t love me, but I…cared about him.
And I thought he cared about me too. At least enough to not yell at me for being assaulted.
That man is going to be the father of your child.
The thought hit me like a bullet, and my tears petered to a stop.
I touched my stomach, a mirror image of what I’d done in the bathroom earlier, and I closed my eyes, picturing that child again.
What kind of life could I offer a baby here?
Where he had to watch out for certain family members because they might get violent.
“I’m going to protect you,” I promised the little life that had taken root inside me.
“I’ll make sure that you’re safe and cared for…
even if that means we can’t be here.” The idea of leaving made my stomach clench.
Not only would the Rojas kill me if they found out and could track me down, but Angel also wouldn’t hesitate if I betrayed him.
He’d said as much this morning…but it wasn’t just about me anymore.