Beware The Fury

by C. I. Lopez

  Is this how it feels to be dead? Yasmin questioned herself, feeling her entire body go limp, and an irresistible desire to close her eyes overcame her. Maybe, I deserve to die for all I’ve done. Her body relaxed into Tomas’ arms, and her lower body felt paralyzed. Yasmin’s panic receded into a drug-induced euphoria, followed by sleep. As Yasmin drifted into a comatose state, she could hear Tomas’ voice, as if in the distance.

  “Calm down, baby; this won’t hurt a bit.”

  Yasmin assumed she was dying and would soon be in a safe place away from Tomas.

  *

  Still dazed from the medication, Yasmin opened her eyes to see she was alone in the room, unsure if she was alive. Looking at her surroundings, she was in Tomas’ room.

  Did hell look like Tomas’ room?

  Memory returned slowly, and she recalled Tomas holding her down and the injection, which violated her spine. Looking across the room through the window, the sun was directly overhead, indicating she had been asleep for several hours.

  Awareness washed over her as she understood the purpose of the doctor. With tears of fury, she yelled at the empty room. “No, Tomas … this wasn’t what we had agreed.” She slammed both her hands against the bed. It was too late. Instinctively, she felt her abdomen and knew that her baby was already gone. Noticing spots of blood on a white pad placed below her mid-section to protect the luxurious bed sheets, confirmed any doubts that might remain.

  An unexpected tender touch with a warm towel on her brow startled Yasmin. In her anger, she grabbed for it. She was holding a slim wrist which she aimed to twist, or in some way, inflict pain on the people who had invaded her body without her consent.

  Instead, Yasmin noted that the wrist was delicate and brown. The touch wasn’t coming from either Tomas or the doctor, and she turned to gaze into Miss Belky’s soft dark eyes. Exasperated at her situation, Yasmin stared at the housekeeper.

  The young woman gazed down sympathetically at the teenager.

  Yasmin said,” You always show up when I need you, but you never have any answers for me.”

  “What do you need to know, Boss Lady?”

  “Tell me how to get away from this place.”

  “In time, Boss Lady, you will find the way.” Miss Belky’s answer was cryptic, which Yasmin let hang in the air between them before she spoke again, almost incoherent in her own frustration.

  “Tomas told me he’d take care of the baby, but he never said it would be this way.”

  Miss Belky continued assiduously wiping the blood from Yasmin’s bloody thighs. Oblivious to the girl’s complaints, the gentle maid gathered the blood-stained laundry to remove it from the room on her way out the door. Miss Belky reached for two small bottles on the dresser and for a round pill holder. Removing one tablet from each container, she held out her hand containing the three tablets, offering them to Yasmin.

  “The little pill,” Miss Belky said and indicated with her slim finger, “is to relieve your pain. Take them as you need. You have to take the big one every four hours to keep from getting an infection. This last one is to be taken every day, so you don’t make another baby.” Handing the teenager, a glass of cold water, Miss Belky whispered, “At least you had a doctor.”

  The unexpected statement startled Yasmin, making her take another look at the lovely dark-skinned woman.

  Miss Belky’s eyes glistened as she turned toward the window. The maid didn’t shift or squint but stared straight ahead as though the sunlight didn’t affect her eyes.

  Yasmin felt sorry to have been so insensitive about complaining when she didn’t know anything about what the other woman may have experienced. A contrite Yasmin reached for her maid’s hand and squeezed it with her own. It was her turn to give comfort to her friend.

  “I’m sorry, Belky. I’ve been insensitive while you’ve been nothing but kind to me. Do you want to tell me what happened to you?”

  “No, Boss Lady, you didn’t do anything to be sorry about. It’s just that my memories sometimes sneak out of my head.” The moment passed, and Miss Belky turned on her cheerful smile to help Yasmin climb out of bed.

  “Feel dizzy?” Miss Belky asked, carefully balancing the young woman to stand on her wobbly legs. The maid helped her put on a lovely light green sundress that complemented Yasmin’s eyes. “The Boss Man is waiting to see you.” Miss Belky kept her gaze lowered.

  “I don’t want to see him, Belky!” The livid teenager received no response from the faithful maid.

  Miss Belky proceeded to brush Yasmin’s hair, bringing back the luster and soft waves as the auburn locks cascaded down one shoulder. Feeling satisfied with her effort, Miss Belky picked up all the dirty laundry, leaving the girl to her thoughts, as she slipped out of the room like an angel.

  PART TWO

  Chapter 4

  Vexations and Violence

  Yasmin’s married life consisted of attending mind-numbing evenings with Tomas and his friends at nightclubs. The ones that had music and dancing and tables lit with an array of tiny candles. After dinner, Tomas often danced with Yasmin to waltzes, rumbas, foxtrots, and even a tango. Tomas had diligently taught his wife the dances to further show off her talents and good looks. It was not a difficult task, since Yasmin had a natural ability for dancing, having won the first prize for dancing at her coming-of-age celebration. It seemed to her a lifetime ago.

  Otherwise, Yasmin was allowed to spend afternoons purchasing expensive and revealing clothes, mostly hand-picked by Tomas, to wear at night while parading in discotheques on Tomas’ arm. It was Tomas’ custom to meet with clients at the clubs to discuss business, which Yasmin didn’t care about, nor understood.

  Complaints from his wife about not being able to go out during the day were solved when Tomas assigned Yasmin a chauffeur. A large, dark-skinned man with muscular arms wider than Yasmin’s thighs. His name was Pedro Peralta.

  With Pedro as her bodyguard and chauffeur, Yasmin was allowed and encouraged by Tomas to regularly shop at the store of his choice and nowhere else. The first night Yasmin spent in Tomas’ house, he’d surreptitiously taken the humble clothes the girl had laid at the end of her bed. He’d also taken the tiny sandals she’d left in the foyer before entering the main part of the house. At that early stage, he’d taken them to the owner of the most exclusive boutique in town, thus establishing Yasmin’s size and her position as a client at the boutique.

  For Rebecca, the boutique was a recent investment. She had been trained and been a successful attorney but found herself forced to leave her home and country to escape an abusive husband. Under a new name, she’d opened the business to make fashionable clothes available for professional women and evening clothes for the very wealthy.

  The boutique was a convenience for the wealthy or businesswomen who liked to look their best. ‘The Boutique’, as it was often referred, carried the most expensive and fashionable clothes in the city, suitable for women of all ages and occupations.

  On the first day, Yasmin came to the shop, Pedro, Yasmin’s chauffeur, followed the girl’s every step, even attempting to enter the exclusive dressing room. He was stopped when Rebecca placed one well-manicured hand on his chest, telling him he couldn’t enter a woman’s dressing room.

  Pedro agreed to stand outside the dressing room, looking like a riot policeman with his muscled arms crossed and a pistol showing under his coat. While some women in the shop admired the man’s physique, they were intimidated by such a person standing outside the dressing room of a woman’s clothing shop seldom frequented by men.

  During another of Yasmin’s visits to the boutique, one of the clerks complained to her boss about Yasmin’s chauffeur following Yasmin around in the store, looking very menacing. He was scaring some of her regular clients.

  Rebecca did not want to upset her best customer and risk losing her business, so she wanted to be as diplomatic as possible regarding the man’s presence in the store. Having filled a rack of her most beautiful styles, Rebecca appr
oached Yasmin to lead her to the dressing room. As tactfully as possible, she brought up the subject of her chauffeur being inside the store.

  Yasmin explained that she was outraged by the man watching her every move.

  Rebecca asked, “How can you live under such close scrutiny all the time? Are you saying that you cannot ask the man to sit in the car, or go for a walk while you shop?”

  “That’s exactly what I am telling you, Rebecca. Pedro only takes orders from my husband, Tomas.”

  “Would you mind if I give him a try? There are legal reasons why he cannot do this, and I think I might be able to convince him to at least wait outside.”

  “Bless you, Rebecca, I would love that.”

  Noelis Lopez, ex-attorney at law, aka Rebecca Ortiz, owner of Rebecca’s Boutique, stood five-foot-tall and weighed less than fifty kilos. She was beautiful enough to turn every head when she walked into a courtroom. She was dressed to kill and in her five-inch heels, faced Pedro Peralta to move him out of her shop.

  Rebecca used her best prosecutor’s voice. “Excuse me, Sir. I am the owner of this establishment. I would like to know why you are following your employer’s wife while she shops in a woman’s store, standing directly outside of the dressing room, frightening my customers away?”

  “Those are the instructions I have from my boss, Ma’am.”

  “And who exactly is your boss? I will need to speak with him regarding you standing in this manner in front of the vestibule of a woman’s clothing store. Standing outside within the portal to my establishment, brandishing a weapon, is breaking several laws of this country. If you don’t move, I will have no other option but to call the police and have them remove you.”

  “Ma’am, my boss doesn’t like trouble with the police, so why don’t I move over to the restaurant across the street where I can get some refreshment? I’ll still be able to protect my client as per my boss’s instructions.”

  “That’s an excellent idea, and please, do so every time you bring your employer’s wife to my establishment.” She turned, and with the man admiring her magnificent figure, she sauntered back to her office.

  Pedro was no longer standing anywhere near the store. From across the street, he could see perfectly what went on inside the boutique through the large storefront windows. He sat under the shade of a massive parasol at an outside table of a pleasant pub. Pedro’s eyes were glued to the movements inside the boutique.

  Rebecca was happy to select the type of clothes Tomas requested. Rebecca’s Boutique was the only place in town where customers could purchase their one-of-a-kind outfits brought in directly from the top designers.

  Consequently, Yasmin became an excellent customer, encouraged by her husband’s constant desire to see his wife dressed in only the best and most expensive clothes. Tens of thousands of dollars were spent on clothing the teenager didn’t like or want. She did it for the sole purpose of keeping her husband from becoming abusive.

  *

  The girl became well acquainted with the owner of the boutique, who exclusively attended to Yasmin as one of her most valuable customers. During all this time, their conversations centered around fashion and designers. Rebecca also took it upon herself to teach the young girl how to apply makeup like a professional. She taught Yasmin how to walk and talk with the proper attitude of a woman of her means. Intimacies of their private lives were never discussed.

  All the new arrivals fresh from the designers were hand-picked by Rebecca, according to her customer’s needs. She saved items for the beautiful young girl married to Tomas Chacon. The fashions she felt would best fit Yasmin’s preferences, within the parameters set by her husband.

  “You are going to love these, Yasmin,” Rebecca exclaimed as she rushed to bring a rack of clothes she had already chosen as appropriate. It didn’t take Rebecca long to recognize Tomas’ taste in clothes for his wife. As an expert in fashion, she knew what would look best on Yasmin.

  “The colors this season are your colors,” Rebecca said and proceeded to bring dresses from the backroom to their special show room. It was a place reserved for customers such as Yasmin. Rebecca suspected the reason for Yasmin’s occasional long absences from the store. The sad look on the girl’s face indicated the look of a woman who might be abused, especially knowing that Yasmin was married to a man with a vile reputation.

  *

  Alcohol was an addiction with Tomas, starting the day with Bloody Mary’s, followed by several beers in the afternoon, and finishing the day with wine, champagne, or scotch. He often topped-up his evening liquor with brandy or cognac.

  It took the slightest provocation from Yasmin to turn Tomas abusive with verbal put-downs complemented by violent slaps across her face. He once locked her in their room for two days without food, and the list of abuses increased every time Tomas found a new reason, whether real or imagined.

  Yasmin feared he might be losing his mind from the excess of alcohol he consumed. She usually stepped lightly around him to avoid another abusive attack.

  It was evident that the people Tomas associated with were not actual friends, but instead, customers or clients trying to tender deals with Tomas. Consequently, the kissing and hugging with affectionate-looking pats on the back upon greetings seemed to indicate a friendship that wasn’t genuine. They were just as likely to kill each other as to share a meal and drinks. They laughed, joked, or screamed with anger at each other. It was a world full of deceit that was undecipherable to the girl. In her life in a small village, the lines between friends and adversaries were clear.

  Those evenings she spent out with Tomas, being shown off as his ‘trophy wife’, were the entire purpose of her role in his life. These outings ended in arguments and even fights between Tomas and his guests, most probably exacerbated by their mutual heavy drinking.

  At this time, Tomas was in complete control of the drug trade in the country and had been for several years. Nevertheless, he lived with the paranoia of losing this control and power to aspiring younger individuals. This constant worry, together with his excessive drinking, kept him on edge all the time. These nightclub deals included obtaining new markets for his product. Tomas was expanding his business to North America and other Central and South American countries, dealing with the most unsavory people in the business.

  Tomas’ insistence on Yasmin wearing more provocative and expensive clothes to these affairs bothered the young girl. Still, it was part of what Tomas equated with success, even though she felt used and humiliated by her husband during these affairs.

  With his arm firmly wrapped around the girl’s slim waist, Tomas made his entrance at the clubs, always making sure to be the last one at the party. He’d enter the room with Yasmin by his side to provoke the most dramatic effect. When Tomas walked in like a proud peacock with Yasmin, it never failed to turn the heads of everyone at the club.

  Customers turned to whisper to each other as they watched the spectacle of the Kingpin and his extravagantly young and beautiful bride.

  It bothered Yasmin how Tomas seemed to take pleasure in the lurid looks and remarks that his crude friends made about her. He even encouraged them, patting or fondling her buttocks while she walked, exclaiming out loud, “Just look at that ass.”

  Yasmin was humiliated by the laughter and the rude gestures the other men made in regards to what they’d like to do with her body. Tomas would laugh and place a protective arm around his possession.

  Not yet of drinking age, the almost sixteen-year-old girl sat at the table drinking cokes and looking gorgeous. All the while, she watched the rest of the group become exceedingly more intoxicated and disruptive. Predictably, at about midnight, the arguments began.

  Tomas being the loudest and most obnoxious in the group, reminded the others of his reputation as the most feared individual in the business. He talked of the cruel ways he used to control those who deceived him.

  Inevitably, these evenings at the nightclubs included the wives of the men. Although Y
asmin tried to engage them in conversation, they were as drunk as their husbands and too preoccupied with keeping their husband’s attention away from the young beauty.

  Even when Yasmin excused herself to visit the restroom, Chacon ordered one of the wives to go with her. But that was only a cover-up, as he knew they were drunk and unreliable. Occasionally, Tomas snapped his fingers to summon Pedro, Yasmin’s personal chauffeur and bodyguard. He would be sat at the bar all night waiting for orders from his boss.

  When summoned, Pedro positioned his massive body outside the bathroom door, his arms crossed. He guarded Yasmin by keeping any other woman from entering the bathroom until his mistress was out and back at the table with Tomas. Not that any woman ever went near that bathroom while the large black man stood at the door with a stern expression on his face. At the same time, another of Chacon’s bodyguards stepped outside of the building to stand by the bathroom window protecting his boss’s wife. Tomas’ possessiveness of Yasmin was an obsession.

  *

  Tomas’ days were filled with violence, as he dealt with dangerous situations that included the sale and purchase of guns and drugs on the black market, always from seedy characters. Not only did he deal with Central American dictators, but also with insalubrious North American groups. Often these deals led to capturing hostages for lack of payment or other unknown offenses.

  The victims would be brought to the house, where Yasmin could hear the muted screams of what she assumed were torture and beatings. The punishments included fists and objects of pain that, on occasion, led to the death of the victim. Deals gone bad did not go unpunished by Tomas. Anyone who crossed him incited his rage and violence like Yasmin never imagined.

  During these times, when Yasmin heard the screams of pain inflicted by men at her husband’s command, she wept until her rage at Tomas’ actions formed a ball in her stomach. She became aware of Tomas’ crematorium hidden in a vault in his back-yard. It was where his enemies were disposed of when the punishment had gone too far and led to their death. This terrified Yasmin.