Chapter 9
Solana Damita Ledesma
I’d been struck breathless. As I struggled to take my next breath, it felt like I’d been punched in the chest. Along with my throat, my skin, my bones, and my eyes—all felt raw.
It was as if I’d been dragged through the pits of hell, and the trail was never-ending.
Except there was no devil. There was no dragging.
There was no fire. Well, there was fire in the dark eyes of the man I’d come to obsess over.
Popping sounded in my ears, and puffs of air fluttered my nostrils.
I didn’t know how long we’d been driving, because I’d been in my head, trying to make sense of it all.
The date. The drugs. The shootings. The child.
The woman. The plane. The mail. Then, I was removed from the home for the second time in twenty-four hours and stuffed into the car.
And like yesterday, Shio hadn’t said a word to me.
The truck came to a screeching halt, jerking my body forward. My heart leaped in my chest, pounding against my rib cage. My hands were shaking, my feet were bare, and I was wounded in pride. I shook my head and grabbed Shio’s arm as he put the truck in park.
“Shio. ?No era mío! Te lo juro. No era mío. ?Jamás haría eso! ?Jamás! ?Jamás podría! ?Shio! ?Por favor, mírame! ( Shio. It wasn’t mine! I swear to you. It wasn’t mine. I would never do that! I would never! I could never! Shio! Please look at me!)”
Shio, instead, got out of the truck, leaving it running.
With my eyes wide, I glanced around. I wasn’t familiar with this neighborhood.
It was suburban, but instead of homes like those in Shio’s area, these were casas adosades (townhouses).
All the yards were neatly manicured, and the only other person outside—from what I could see—was an older gentleman across the street, checking his mailbox.
Mail. Less than an hour ago, Shio’s mailman had knocked on the door.
Nel was dead asleep, so I answered and took the mail.
The baby was still sleeping, so I walked it to his office.
Instead of leaving the pile of mail there, I began reading the names.
Why Uriah was receiving mail at Shio’s residence was baffling to me and stirred something in my chest.
The summer air brushed my side and shook me from my thoughts. The passenger door had opened. Shio, in all his glory, stood. He’d changed. A hoodie—black. But the look in his eyes hadn’t. Scary and very unsure.
He took a step back, instructing me without a word.
With my head bowed, I stepped out of the car, barefoot, feeling the warm concrete beneath my feet.
Saliva flooded my mouth at the thought of the bag of cocaine Bahati had found in the baby’s hands.
I’d wished I had grabbed it, even though I had no idea what Shio was about to do to me.
He trudged behind me as I trekked up the sidewalk toward the front door.
The attached houses on the street looked identical, but porch décor and flowerbeds gave each one its own personality.
Shio’s arm brushed my shoulder as he reached around me and twisted the front door’s doorknob.
I stepped inside, enamored by the décor.
No matter how this place looked or smelled, I didn’t want to be here, especially if Shio wasn’t staying with me.
From the urgency to get here, I knew he wasn’t.
Turning on my feet, I faced Shio. I hadn’t gotten the chance to plead my case when my feet were dangling in the air, and I was being carried out over his shoulder.
I could feel his face on the side of my bottom with each thump of his steps.
I knew better than to fight as I watched the world around me upside down.
He descended a set of stairs, which made my stomach sour.
We were in a basement—that much I knew because I’d frequented one multiple times per week to work out with this man.
He flipped me back over, setting me on my feet.
The carpet felt comforting, a stark contrast to the hot concrete outside.
Towering over me, Shio swiped his nose with his thumb, something he seemed to do when he was upset.
My eyes pleaded, begging him to hear me out.
His were fiery hot; the uncertainty just moments ago, gone.
I knew in that moment that there was nothing I could say or do to make him believe me. Still, I had to try.
Reaching up, I palmed his face, my panties flooding as our skin connected, even though arousal was the last thing my body should have been feeling.
“Shio. Por favor—”
“Solana, baby…”
My heart sped, and my eyes widened. “?Si?”
He grabbed my arms, but not in a way that would hurt me.
Holding them up, he squeezed them, then released the pressure before placing my wrist to the side of his face.
With his eyes lowered, he took a long sniff of my skin and closed his eyes.
My chest was going haywire. It was nearly impossible for me to stay still.
“Yo no hice eso. No te haría dano... a tu...( I did not do that. I wouldn’t hurt your... your...)
He removed my wrist from his nostrils but kept them in his hand, and I understood now that it was to stop me from touching him.
“My what? My what, Solana? I want to hear you say it. Dilo. (Say it.)”
“Tu... Tu... Hija…” Spilled out of my mouth, and the admission was like a dagger to the chest—painful.
“Say that shit in fucking English, Solana. English, baby. My what?” He gritted his teeth, and at the same time, he was backing me into a wall. Well, it couldn’t have been a wall because it was cold and slick like a metal. Like steel.
“Your daughter,” I said, exasperated in my voice. Saying it nearly knocked the wind out of me.
“My fucking daughter. You so gone off that shit, Solana, that you can’t even see what the fuck is in front of you.”
“Shio. I… I, please. I don’t comprehend.”
“What the fuck do you want from me, Solana?”
“I… I…” I felt defeated.
Truly, I didn’t know what I wanted. I wanted Shio, but I didn’t want to bring him down with me.
My father didn’t seem to want me. He’d just admitted he couldn’t protect me, and that he would ship me off to the next criminal as soon as he found someone and the coast was clear with Felipe.
What I wanted clearly didn’t matter even if I did know.
It had never mattered—not then, not now, not ever.
What I wanted didn’t make sense because it had never been my reality in México.
The only thing that made sense was the guy I met at the party, and again at the club.
He had what I wanted and needed. He had what would make me forget the pain of being unloved by every man in my life.
Cocaína (cocaine).
Shio reached inside his pocket and pulled out the clear bag of drugs.
My eyes lit up, and my mouth watered. He had what I wanted.
Nothing else mattered in the moment. I couldn’t truly have Shio anyway, at least not with deaths and pain to follow.
This was the next best thing. In a perfect world, I would have both, but since I couldn’t, I would settle for the one that faithfully made me feel without consequences.
“You too fuckin’ good for this shit, Solana.
You lettin’ this shit win. You been lettin’ it win.
When it ain’t in you, you sleep. When it is, you party.
You don’t know who the fuck you are or what the fuck you want cuz you doped up all the time, and when you not doped up, you thinkin’ about dope.
But since you can’t seem to get your head right—”
He grabbed my chin, lifting my head as I ceased breathing. His touch was only to my face but had traveled down below.
“I’m gonna do that shit for you,” he mumbled.
He reached around me again, twisted another doorknob, and the wall behind me moved. Shio caught me around the back, tucking the drugs in his pocket. I wanted to claw them out, but I knew that was another battle I would never win. I knew his strength, and I knew my limits.
He’d backed us into a room where we were now standing.
It was smaller than the one back at his home, but it had the same necessities.
A bed, a TV, dressers, a nightstand, and an en suite bathroom.
A white duvet covered the full-sized bed, and the décor was calming yet girly, though neutral.
I could tell someone had just cleaned the bathroom from the aroma of cleaning products.
“I can’t have you in my home, Solana.”
I felt a momentary panic as my mind jumped on what he’d said. “Shio! Please!”
“Don’t fucking beg.” He spewed, a vein jumping in his neck. Even that was sexy.
“Shio, baby. I… I can stop. It’s not that bad. I can stop. I just want to be with you! I do. I just don’t want to get you hurt!”
“Me and hurt don’t even belong in the same sentence.”
“Shio!”
“I’m gonna hold onto yo’ phone. But here…” he tossed another cell on the bed behind me. “Don’t call yo’ bitch-ass daddy either. It ain’t shit he can do for you. And don’t put the fuckin’ police in my business.”
“I wouldn’t do that!” I looked at him as if he were the one on drugs. I’d learned very long ago that my life was meant to be off the policía (police) radar back home. I knew this to be true for America too.
“I know you wouldn’t, Solana, baby…”
Shio backed out of the room, and when I tried running after him, the steel door shut.
“Shio! Shio! What is this!” Using my fist, I pounded at the door, connecting with the cold metal. “Shio! Don’t do this. Papi! Papiiii! Don’t do this!”
Glancing around, there were no windows. I ran to the bathroom, and again, there were no windows there either. I was locked in—locked inside of a fancy prison with a mouth that craved only two things that I knew I couldn’t have.
Shio and cocaína (cocaine).