Taina
GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE
Moments of weakness are few and far between in my world. But even I’m susceptible to them.
And that’s how I classify my short-lived tryst with Emiliano.
God, even thinking his name feels like a dropkick to my libido, forcing me to remember the way he looked at me as I came.
He’s called and sent several texts, but I’ve been holed up in my room, fighting my growth so I can slink back into my rage.
It’s safe there.
No one can touch me when I’m there.
But something about being seen and touched and desired by him has given me a tender confidence I never saw coming.
He makes me feel like he’d walk over cut glass to reach me. Like he sees what I could be rather than who I am.
To make matters worse, he makes me feel safe.
And that’s dangerous.
For years, I’ve only felt safe in my rage and my antics. In my plans and my backup plans.
My phone pings with another text that’s likely him, and I squeeze my eyes shut as I hide under my covers. I haven’t left the house since he dropped me off, and if I’m being honest, I’m pissed.
I’m wasting precious time when I need to kill this monster. And that’s what I plan to do now. Fuck biding my time, poking the bear.
It’s time to end this.
While the notion of pretending my assault never happened and letting myself fall in love with Emiliano is appealing, it could never be. I knew that from the moment I laid my eyes on him, and even before that. I allowed myself to get swept up for a moment, but I’m clearheaded again.
Outside my door, I can hear my parents’ voices murmuring from their room. I whip my blanket off and march over to my bedroom window, sure that I’ll find what I’m looking for.
And like clockwork, there he is.
Berto.
Sitting there writing something, maybe a crossword puzzle or Sudoku? Like this is perfectly normal behavior. And if my parents noticed his constant presence, they haven’t told me.
“Fuck this,” I mumble as I walk away from my window and out of my room.
I can still hear my parents arguing behind the closed door of their bedroom, and I rush down the steps as quickly as I can without making too much noise.
Once I hit the landing, I run to the front door, swing it open, and walk my happy ass over to Berto.
He notices my bare feet first as I trek through the perfectly manicured grass on our front lawn. Papi would have a conniption. I don’t give a single shit.
As I approach, he rolls down his window, a smile already stretching his lips.
“Good evening, Ms. de?—”
I wave off the rest of his salutation and put my hand on my hip, my free one gesturing toward his car.
“Please let your boss know that having me watched is an invasion of my privacy. I don’t take kindly to it, and I’m no longer interested in seeing him.
” I hate the way the words sound coming out of my mouth, knowing I’ve masturbated every day since, his voice echoing in my head.
Fuck, I can still feel the way his tongue felt around my fingers, tasting my orgasm.
“Be that as it may?—”
“I didn’t ask you for clarification,” I nearly yell before pinching the bridge of my nose. I take a breath and continue, speaking evenly. “I’m telling you to leave and to let him know that he’ll no longer be hearing from me.”
This man has the audacity to smile . Smile!
“Ms. de la Matta, you and I both know that isn’t possible.” He taps at the steering wheel with his book of crossword puzzles, and I yearn to snatch it out of his hand and toss it onto the fucking street. Like a petulant child.
“Why’s that?” I ask, slapping my hand on my thigh after tossing it into the air with frustration.
“Because I’m following orders. And whether you like what I’m doing or not, I can’t leave until Mr. Pineros tells me to.
” His answer is resolute, and these are the times when I know that I may be formidable, but my opponent has far more firepower than I do.
He has grown men on his payroll, willing to do any single thing he asks. My mother’s warning echoes in my mind.
…his family is dangerous.
I almost want to call this man Emiliano’s bitch out of spite, but I don’t allow myself to stoop that low. For once in my life.
“What if I call the cops?” I toss the lame question out, knowing I hate those motherfuckers.
“You and I both know you won’t be doing that.” Another fucking smirk. He may be right, but he can’t know that for sure.
“Oh yeah?” I scoff. “Why’s that?”
He doesn’t say anything else as he looks at me, this time with no humor in sight. I itch to ask for clarification again, but I won’t give him the satisfaction.
“I’ll spend every day inside, making sure Emiliano never sees me again,” I grind out, turning to walk back inside. I’m gonna need to shower after walking outside with no shoes or socks on.
“And I will still be out here for as long as I’m told to be,” he calls out after me, and I toss my middle finger in the air. I glance back at him once I’ve crossed the street.
“If you think the neighbors won’t call the authorities on a pervert sitting outside a politician’s house, you underestimate the power of nosy white people!”
And I hope I said it loudly enough for the neighbors to hear.
Hijo de puta.
My TV is on but muted, and when I sit up to find my remote in the dim blue glow, my gaze snags on a massive fire being reported. I find my remote under my pillow and turn the volume up a little.
“…unable to identify victims, but there’s reason to believe the building was full of Minx patrons. While the Russian-owned strip club has a history of criminal activity, it’s unclear if the explosion was gang-related.”
I turn the TV off and sit in the dark silence for a while, listening for any sounds .
It feels like everyone’s asleep.
But I know better. I’m fairly certain that if I look outside, someone will be parked out there still. Like they don’t have shit else better to do with their time.
?Que carajo!
Sure enough, I poke my fingers through the blinds to lift one, but Berto is no longer there. Instead, a younger guy devouring fast food has taken his place, his phone in his hand as he watches something. A moment later, he’s got his fist in the air and looks like he’s very happy about something.
The way men love to watch other men play with balls is so strange.
At least Berto was more focused. This guy will be far easier to evade.
And that’s exactly what I need tonight to put my next plan into action.
As quietly as I can, I don black sweatpants and a matching hoodie.
My black Doc Martens are too loud to waltz out of here in, so I carry them in my hand as I creep toward my door.
When I open it, no one is standing in the hall.
My parents ceased their signs of life sounds about an hour ago, so I intend on sneaking through the back and then waiting to see when I can make a run for it from the side of the yard when the imbecile parked outside isn’t paying attention.
One of the wooden planks groans under my feet, and I pause, glancing toward their bedroom door. Nothing.
So I keep going, taking the steps on the tips of my toes.
I’m nearly at the kitchen when my heart hits my ass.
“Where are you going?”
Mami leans over to switch on the lamp on the table next to her, and once it illuminates the room, I see the tears she tries to haphazardly wipe away.
“I’m twenty-two years old. I shouldn’t have to sneak out to meet friends,” I tell her, setting my boots down beside my feet. “ You want me to be normal again so badly? This is what normal people my age do.”
“You don’t have friends, Taina,” she spits out, and all sympathy I had at the sight of her sadness evaporates. I’m grateful for the reminder of her cold-heartedness, only offering her kindness when it’s beneficial to her cause.
“That’s rich, Mami . You only have Papi and this hellhole of a house. Where are your friends?” I challenge, jutting out my chin. “Do they know you picked your daughter’s broken body up off your front porch and let her rapist get away with her assault?”
Her chest rises and falls as she glares at me, her eyes still shining with moisture.
“I’ve had it,” she grinds out. “I’m so sick of your shit. You’ve totaled your car, you’re disrespectful, and you don’t listen!”
All of my pent-up rage aims itself directly at her.
“You want to run every time you’re faced with the truth. I was raped,” I scream, tears now streaming down my face. “And you didn’t even help me.”
A part of me will always remember how she dressed me, brushed my hair, and brought me to the emergency room, her tone hushed as she explained how she found me to medical professionals.
“I helped the best way I knew how, Taina.” Lies. All she does is lie.
I sniff, wiping my eyes with the backs of my hands. “God, you’re pathetic,” I mumble, rolling my eyes at the notion that this is the woman who created me. We couldn’t be more different.
“Maybe it’s time you see what it’s like out there on your own.” Her words are quiet, and I recognize this for what it is: a show of power. A reminder that, without them, I’m homeless. I have no money, no degree, minimal work history, and now no car .
“Anything is better than this,” I toss out as I pick up my shoes, prepared to walk out.
“Maria,” Papi calls out from somewhere upstairs. “Come to bed.”
“Wilfredo, she?—”
“I said come to bed,” his voice booms out. “Leave the girl alone.”
She grants me one last look before shaking her head. I watch as she stands and makes her way upstairs. And once I hear their door shut upstairs, I’m surrounded by silence once more.
Good. Time to get the fuck out of here.