Chapter 10 Chapter 10

Ella's POV

As the night crawled through the hours, I found myself unable to stop

my mind from drifting back to Leo. I missed him more than anything

which is weird considering how desperate I was to get away from him

just hours ago. My mind could hardly handle the conflict of hating him

and loving him at the same time and I could feel it slowly driving me

insane.

The dream was bothering me too. Why Lili and not any of my other

children? Why the swing? The mist? Leo? I tried to make sense of it but

my hunger from not eating in hours was clouding my thoughts and

making everything seem weird and delusional.

The two guards were playing cards. Richardo had so far lost his belt, his

crucifix and the 200 pesos (11 dollars) he had on him to Esteban.

"You cheat,” Richardo protested.

They'd been mostly speaking in Spanglish for my benefit. Neither spoke

particularly good English but it was good enough to allow me to follow

the conversation and not die of boredom. How considerate of them.

"You are a bad loser," Esteban replied with a laugh. "Now I want de

picture of your mate from your wallet.”

"No, man. That is not cool,” Richardo said. "She is my mate. Find your

own."

"She's sexy and I like something to imagine when I...how do you say in

English...?"

"Feel free to say it in Spanish. I don't wanna hear it," I announced and

they both turned to me.

"How about a new game?" Esteban suggested deviously before picking

up an empty tequila glass from the table they were both sat at. "You

shoot de glass from her head, I give you back everything and you keep

de photo. If you fail, then you give me it."

"I don't think the boss will like dat,” Richardo replied unsurely.

"I don't fucking like that. If he fails, he loses the photo and I lose my

life!"

"Shut up, puta," Esteban snapped before grabbing a spare piece of

rope and fastening it around my mouth so that I could only make

sounds that vaguely formulated words. "Are you a man, or what,

Richardo?"

"If 1 win, you give me your watch and we have a deal,” Richardo said

taking the gun from the back of his jeans.

"Agreed," he replied placing the shot glass on my head and taking a

few steps back.

"Stay very still, puta,” Richardo said closing one eye and aiming the gun

just above my head.

I closed both my eyes tightly and tried to stop myself shaking.

I heard the trigger pull, then the bang, then the bullet shoot through

the air and then a glass smash above my head.

"Ayyy," Richardo cheered as I breathed a sigh of relief and thanks for

my life.

Richardo threw his arms up in the air as Esteban grumbled and took off

his watch. Just before he was able to hand it to Richard, the door of the

warehouse flung open.

Andrea marched in, gun in hand, with an alert expression as he scanned

the warehouse. He then saw the gun in Richardo's hand, the broken

glass and the rope around my mouth and began hurling fast Spanish at

the two men. They had gone pale with fear as they stuttered and

spluttered trying to explain themselves.

Pointing the gun directly at Richardo's head, Andrea stepped closer

now with an enraged expression as they cowered back.

"She is not your plaything,” he growled before pulling the trigger of the

gun. My eyes widened as the bullet hit Richardo in the shoulder and

blood began to pour.

He whimpered with pain before sinking to his knees.

"Get him out of here,” Andrea barked at Esteban and he immediately

nodded and began dragging the crying Richardo out, leaving a trail of

blood behind them.

Andrea watched them intensely until they were out of sight before

finally turning to me.

He looked me up and down before marching over and pulling the gag

off and untying my hands.

"Now I see why they all fear you,” I mumbled once my mouth was free.

He crouched down and lifted my arm and examined it carefully. "You

just shot a man. He could die."

"He'll survive but it will be painful enough to ensure he never defies me

like this again,” he replied. "Your arm has been cut," he added.

I looked down to see quite a nasty gash along the top of my lower arm

that I hadn't noticed before.

He took a white cloth from the pocket of his suit and began dabbing

the wound. I winced at the pressure.

"There's glass in there," he said taking a closer look. "Stay still.”

I watched as he pulled a long shard of glass from my flesh, cast it aside

and dabbed the wound again this time causing much less pain.

He then stood up, walked to the table and grabbed the open bottle of

tequila

"This may sting a little," he warned me before splashing some of the

strong alcohol onto my arm.

"Motherfucker," I hissed as a searing pain shot through my arm. "Why

the fuck did you do that?"

"Tequila serves as a brilliant disinfectant,” he replied looking at the

bottle. "45% alcohol. Nothing can survive that."

"Including my flesh. Did you have no other option?" I asked.

"Just be glad I am even bothering to treat your wound at all,” he said

crouching down in front of me again. "Apart from this, are you okay?"

"I'm starving, longing to get out of these ropes and a few minutes ago,

a man, who had just had four shots of tequila, shot a tiny glass off my

head,” I replied.

I looked down at the red marks around my ankles where the rough

fibre had been rubbing.

"Us Mexicans have high tolerances and good aims, Blanca,” he replied

taking the rope off my ankles. "And good food,” he added.

"Where are we going?" I asked as he took my arm and began leading

me out.

"To get something to eat,” he said as we reached the door. "Consider it

a date,” he added kissing my cheek.

Just before we left the warehouse, he pulled me closer to him and

covered my eyes with his hand.

"What-?"

"Top secret location, Blanca. I can't have you knowing where I pile my

stock...or where I keep my prisoners,” he interjected before we exited

into the fresh air and warm sun rays.

Before long, I heard a car door open and the voice of a man I didn't

recognise talking to Andrea in Spanish.

"She is not my bitch, Pedro. Not yet anyway. I just think her pretty face

might be useful to me someday so I plan to keep her alive for now,"

Andrea said to him in English.

"You said that last time, Sir,” the other man replied as I felt Andrea lift

me into the car.

"The last one wasn't nearly as beautiful and she slept with one of my

exporters. She had to go."

"In my experience, if you want a job done properly, don't give it to a

woman. She'll find a way to fuck it up," the unknown man replied as the

Andrea got in the car too and close the door behind him.

"You shouldn't hold such old-fashioned views, Pedro,” Andrea laughed

as we began to drive. "A woman can be very useful.”

Andrea then removed his hands finally from my eyes. We were in the

back of pristine, black SUV with Pedro, a middle-aged man wearing a

suit similar to Andrea's, driving. Through the heavily tinted windows, I

could only see desert and cactus. No warehouse, no people, no

anything.

"Women are good for three things,” Pedro began. "Entertaining a man,

cooking for a man and raising his children.”

"You forgot cleaning,” I mumbled sarcastically.

In the rearview mirror, I saw Pedro raise an eyebrow and exchanged a

look with Andrea before Andrea pulled me over his lap and pinned my

arms behind my back. He held them tightly at an awkward angle and I

couldn't help but whimper with the pain.

"Don't speak out of turn, Blanca,” he growled in my ear before sitting

me back up leaving me dishevelled and shaken.

"You can rough her up more than that, boss,” Pedro said with a laugh.

I looked up at Andrea, who was staring straight forward with zero

emotion and thought better of making a second comment.

"She can consider that a warning,” he replied deeply. "The next time

won't be so gentle."

The rest of the car journey was silent. We eventually entered some kind

of town where Pedro stopped the car and Andrea practically dragged

me out.

"You can speak now," he announced as he took my arm and began

walking through the streets filled with people doing their afternoon

shopping.

"That hurt,” I said.

He smiled in amusement before placing his hand on my waist and

slowly slipping it a little further down to my hip.

"Perhaps I'll make it up to you tonight,” he said.

I turned to him and forced myself to give him a flirty smile before I

pushed his hand off me, "Perhaps," I said with a shrug. "Perhaps not.”

Luca's words rang in my head more than ever: make them think they

have a chance and they won't force it.

We passed a whole load of restaurants and cafes before Andrea finally

stopped at one. The strong smell of food was driving me mad with

hunger and I was prepared to eat anything. The place was fairly small

and dark but smelt probably the best in the entire street. There were

two rickety fans on the ceiling and lots of laughter and noise coming

from inside.

A friendly looking man spotted us enter from behind the bar and

approached us with a beaming smile.

"Andrea!" he exclaimed before launching into Spanish to which Andrea

responded to with as we walked further into the restaurant. Me and my

blonde hair and blue eyes seemed to turn a lot of heads but so did

Andrea. Maybe because he was well known or maybe because he was

the only one not dressed for the sweltering heat outside.

"And who is this?" the man asked eventually.

My focus snapped back at the sound of something in English to see the

man looking at me.

"Her name is Eleonora,” Andrea began placing a hand on my shoulder.

Oh, so he does know my “name. So far to him, I had just been Blanca

which I assumed to be a term for a white woman.

"American Italian. Not a word of Spanish,” he added.

"Nice to meet you, Senorita,” he said nodding to me. "I will get you

today's menus, Andrea. Please sit."

Andrea guided me to a table for two in the corner of the fairly busy

restaurant shortly before the man returned with two menus. As soon as

he was gone Andrea took the menu from my hand and placed it

underneath his own.

"Hey!" I protested

"I will choose for us both, Blanca," he replied without looking up.

"Why?"

"Uno, because it is written in Spanish and dos, simply because you are

my prisoner and I said so," he said.

"I want you to let me go,” I announced. "I can't live under someone

else's rule.”

"It is that or don't live at all,” he said.

"Why do you need me?" I asked. "I am of no use to you and I haven't

done anything wrong."

"All in good time, Blanca,” he said in a smooth tone as I felt his hand on

my knee from under the table. "Now be quiet and enjoy Mexico

Eduardo!” he called seconds before the man came scurrying back. "Dos

chilaquiles, por favor."

"Si. A drink?"

"Two beers," he replied and the man left again.

It wasn't long until the food came and it was delicious. When I had

finished that (which was pretty quickly), Andrea ordered me some

flautas and fajitas and an enchilada and a burrito and a taco and some

other stuff I didn't even know what was. The point is, by the end of it,

my hunger was gone and I had a new appreciation for Mexican food.

"Can I get you any more drinks, Sefior?" Eduardo asked.

"Another tequlia for the American,” he said and Eduardo left.

"If 1 didn't know any better, I'd think you're trying to get me drunk," I

said lifting up one of the empty shot glasses on the table.

He let out a short laugh and leant forward, "You're bold, Blanca.”

Eduardo then returned with the tequila.

"I've encountered enough men to know what you're doing," I said

before knocking back the shot. "But I'm surprised it's a tactic that a man

like you has to resort to.”

"A man like me?" he asked.

"Don't tell me that cute little face doesn't have the girls lining up," I said

running my finger along his smooth cheek.

"Maybe I don't want other girls,” he replied, his hand brushing against

my leg under the table.

"And why would you bring me to a nice restaurant if your objective is to

intoxicate me?"

"Maybe I'm a gentleman. Or maybe I just think good food and a nice

date will increase my chances,” he said with a shrug and a grin.