by Keta Kendric
On the weeks that I was released from family prison, I used an escort service to have my needs satisfied. It was a secret that I’d never tell a soul. My situation didn’t leave me many options for dating. I didn’t have time to cultivate a relationship nor was I motivated to put forth the effort anymore. I glanced at August.
“Before you arrived, August, Bradley was all I had to talk to or socialize with. Even though he creeped me out, anything seemed better than the loneliness. But, I was never desperate enough to go there with him, if you know what I mean.”
I went on talking to August until I fell asleep next to him, holding his warm, limp hand. The act of holding on to a warm living hand was enough to provide me a certain level of happiness that I hadn’t experienced in a long time.
The echoing footsteps that were growing louder by the second were what snatched me from my sleep. I was in such a lazy haze that I failed to move out of the closet fast enough. Someone was at the double metal doors and pushing into the room by the time I stepped out of the closet.
I was a kid who’d been caught with her hand in the cookie jar. I certainly felt like one. Bradley stared at the door as I eased it closed behind me. The elongated screech it made called even more attention to it.
“Can I help you, Bradley?” I asked in a clipped tone, irritated that he’d disturbed my time with August. It was nine o’clock at night, and I was usually in bed at this hour or reading. Was this Bradley’s usual routine, to creep around the cellar while I slept?
“What are you doing in here at this time of night?” His glare traveled back to the closet door. “Are you hiding a man in that closet. Regina?”
The seriousness on his face had my lips hanging open. Speechless, I stood frozen, trying to but failing to think of a quick lie.
“Ha, ha,” he barked out, laughing. He pointed at my bemused expression.
“When’s your next break? This place is going to drive you crazy if you let it. I can keep you company anytime you need it,” he offered with that grin dancing across his thin, dry lips.
I bet you can, fluttered across my mind as I fought to contain the thoughts that my frown hardly concealed.
His tone insinuated more. I needed to tell him what I should have months ago.
“Bradley, I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be hanging around me at all. If my family finds out, especially my cousin, Sorio, you could end up being one of the guys on my table. Then into the fire, I’d have to toss you.”
At those words, Bradley’s gaze found the incinerator before he glared at me with a hint of apprehension on his face.
My gaze remained pinned on Bradley’s as I continued to drive the statement home. “I don’t want to do that to you, Bradley because you have been too good to me. You know how Sorio is, though. He’d make me toss you into the flames while you were still alive just because he can. Then, into the red plastic bags your ashes would go and then—”
He raised his hand to stop my words. “I get the point, Regina. I was just checking on you. That’s all.”
He glanced at the closet door once more, before lifting his gaze to meet mine since I hadn’t moved an inch away from it.
“Well, I better go.” His gaze landed on the closet door again. “See you later, Regina.”
He cursed under his breath in Spanish as he left, calling me a teasing bitch and my cousin a deranged asshole. The men didn’t know or had all forgotten that I spoke fluent Spanish. I never corrected them when they switched from Spanish to English when they had to talk to me about something. I never let on that I knew exactly what they were saying when they talked about me in Spanish.
“Later, Bradley,” I called after his back. My statement about him ending up alive in the incinerator must have spooked him because he took another quick look back at it before pushing at each of the exit doors. If I’d known crazy talk was all it would take to get rid of Bradley, I’d have started doing it long ago.
After heaving a deep sigh, I walked over to and locked the doors, before going back into the closet to care for August.
Chapter Six
August
My eyes fluttered below my lids as sparks of life pinged in random parts of my body making me twitch. The darkness circled like a hungry vulture over its prey, and I had no way of knowing what shape my body was in. At least there was movement within me this time. Movement! Was my sense of touch returning? Had my eyes been moving, or had I been trapped here so long, my mind made me believe I’d felt movement?
There weren’t any words to describe the state I was in. I was helplessly trapped inside my own mind. Shit, maybe I was dead, and this was my hell.
The cozy voice of the stranger pierced the darkness and made my ears perk each time the sound rained over me. I clung to every word, every syllable, even when the tone faded in and out of focus—even when it had dwindled to a low murmur. The voice was my connection to the world outside of the darkness and led me to believe I was alive but physically unable to respond.
I couldn’t remember anything about my life, so I didn’t know if I’d been shot or hit by a car? Had someone attempted to kill me or had I failed at suicide? Was the sweet voice I’d been hearing all in my head or was someone out there watching over me?
From what I could recall, the voice belonged to a woman named Regina. According to her, I was an enemy of her family, but she didn’t see me that way. She hated her family and found comfort in the fact that someone was brave enough to fight against them. She’d even admitted that one of her reasons for saving me was to spite her family.
She said she was lonely, and I seemed to be her main source of entertainment. The idea that I, someone who couldn’t move or speak or remember my own name, was her entertainment made me wonder what type of situation this woman was in.
A tingle started at my toes and worked its way up my legs. If I could smile I would paste one on my face as more pangs of life started to spark back into my body. My toes. Were they moving? Was I wiggling them? It certainly felt like I was. Fuck, if I wasn’t. When the rest of my body started to tingle, I urged my brain to move my hands, my legs, anything that would listen to my commands.
My heart may as well have been the drumbeat to a Metallica song as loudly as it banged around inside my chest, sending blood through body parts that had been immobile for an unknown amount of time. Metallica, I knew the band and knew their songs, so why was it so difficult for me to recall my own name?
Finally, my fingers moved. One of my hands was wrapped around something warm, soft, and moving. Regina had taken hold of my hand. Her warm grip was a gift I welcomed as I attempted to squeeze my fingers around hers.
The fluttering of my lids quickened, and the anticipation of seeing anything but darkness had me hysterical and full of impatience. My mouth worked back and forth, left and right. My legs and arms twitched and turned, but my stubborn fucking eyes remained closed. I sucked in a calming breath, hoping it would ease my anxiety enough for me to pour every ounce of willpower I had into opening my eyes.
When I thought I would explode with anxiousness, my eyes blinked open and blinding light filled them. It hurt like hell, but I didn’t care. I’d finally broken free of all that darkness. The calm voice soothed me as I attempted to lift my hand.
“Stay calm and give your body a chance to awaken slowly. You’re okay. I’m right here.”
It was hard not to listen to a voice so relaxing. After I’d forced my body to relax, pain reared its ugly head, trying to steal my joy. Sharp, poker hot pangs shot through my skull. Had Regina doused my chest in gas and set it on fire?
My leg felt like it had been put through a fucking shredder, backed out and put through again, but I didn’t care. I could feel. Squinting, I started to make out dark shapes and colors as my rapidly blinking eyes focused, pulling in my surroundings.
“August, you’re going to experience some pain and discomfort. I didn’t want to give you heavy doses of medication when it appeared you might wake up.”
My mouth moved, but my words remained stuck in my dry throat. Had I swallowed a fucking pail of hot sand? My damn Adam’s apple bobbed for dear life, signaling my dismay as my eyes struggled to stay open.
“Here, I’m putting a cup of water up to your mouth. Drink slowly please.”
Drink slowly? Did she have any idea that my fucking throat was one move away from cracking and flaking into a thousand pieces?
As soon as the rim of the plastic cup touched my lips, my hand came to life and shoved the cup up, sending cool water all over my mouth and chin. I gulped and gasped, not caring that I was spilling more than I was drinking.
When there was none left, I wanted to ask for more, but my damn voice and mouth weren’t coordinating. However, the small amount of water that had gotten into my system seemed to rejuvenate my body even more. My focus cleared enough that I could see the blurred vision of a woman pouring me another cup of water at the foot my bed.
Her shadowy figure became clearer when she moved closer and stood at my shoulder. The way she’d talked about being lonely and of me being her only entertainment, I’d assumed she was a homely woman with a bad acne problem. To the contrary, Regina had golden skin that seemed to twinkle against the light. Her big, brown doe-shaped eyes shined with innocence, but there wasn’t enough innocence in the world to hide the amount of hurt and pain lingering in her gaze. Her aura exuded patience and genuine sincerity.
“Here, try to sip slower this time,” she instructed, her voice heavy with amusement. I think I shook my head, but my attention was taken by the refreshing water that I failed to drink at a gradual pace.
“That’s enough for now, August. I don’t want you to overextend yourself or over consume anything too soon. You’re still in a fragile state.”
“What’s…” my voice inched out, my vocal cords struggling to carry my words. “Wrong…” That was the only other word I could force out before I started coughing. Regina placed a calming hand over my aching head. My fucking head weighed a thousand pounds, and it had just occurred to me that I was sitting in a lean, trying, but failing to hold my head up.
Regina assisted in easing me back. “Please lay down so I can explain your situation to you.”
I calmed at her words because trying to do anything else had pain kicking me straight up and down my ass.
“You sustained a gunshot wound to the head. Judging from the injuries on your body, I believe you were tortured before you got shot. You have three cracked ribs, your right fibula was broken, and you had multiple lacerations and contusions all over your body. A few required stitching. You were nearly dead by the time you made it to me.”
When I sat motionless, the pain remained, but it didn’t bite as hard as it had when I sat up. Shot? My brain was slow to process the updates Regina had revealed. I’d been beaten and shot, but I couldn’t recall any of it.
“You are in Texas. You were captured and brought here by the men who work for my cousin. My cousin was the one who likely did this to you. No one knows you’re here with me. I’ve been hiding you from them.”
Bits and pieces of the conversations she’d been having with me while I was trapped in the darkness started to make more sense now. She hated her family and wanted to keep me alive to spite them. I also recalled her wishing I’d wake up and kill someone for her.
“My name?” I croaked out, my voice struggling to crawl from my throat.
Regina’s hand brushed my forehead as a sorrowful look remained etched on her face. Her touch made me aware of the fact that I had rags or bandages wrapped around my head.
“I was hoping you hadn’t suffered any memory loss, but with head injuries you can never be sure. I’m afraid I don’t know your name either. I’ve been calling you August. Your tattoos indicate that you’re a part of the August Knights Motorcycle club and you were their enforcer. Does any of that sound familiar?”
Seeing her more clearly, I shook my head. My mind refused to grasp its misplaced thoughts.
“Based on some of your tattoos and the state of your body, you’ve lived a rough life. You survived another gunshot before this one, multiple stab wounds, and several other bones were broken previously.”
My eyes panned to my exposed arms. The tattoos didn’t look familiar nor did they spark any memories. One of my hands had a needle taped to it that had a tube running up to a bag of clear liquid. There were also tubes that ran under the white T-shirt I had on. The lower half of my body was draped in a pair of striped flannel pajamas. The covers were up over my knees, but my toes felt bare under the sheet and thin green wool blanket.
The constant beep had been with me so long that I’d tuned it out and only now noticed its low chirp. I was in a makeshift medical facility, a small windowless room the size of a closet. Aside from the narrow bed and the machines next to it, there was only room for the small table that held the pitcher of water and medical supplies and a brown wooden stool that Regina sat on next to my bed.
I’d attempted to count the days I’d been stuck in the darkness, but I’d only managed to get up to three. “How long?” Those words managed to escape before my throat tightened and stopped me from saying more.
“Four and a half months,” Regina confirmed, obviously realizing what I was trying to ask.
No fucking way! I thought. There’s no way I’d been there for four and a half months. But I couldn’t voice my concerns out loud due to my inability to speak like I wanted to.
Chapter Seven
Regina
My neck snapped my head up from my chest at the sound of my name being yelled.
“Regina! Where the fuck are you?”
I must have fallen asleep watching August who was as stubborn as he was strong-willed.
For a moment, I was afraid I’d have to tie him down to keep him from trying to get out of bed. Even though he couldn’t remember a thing, August’s instincts had kicked in. He wasn’t used to being taken care of nor was he accustomed to sickness and vulnerability.
Shit!
It was my evil cousin, Sorio. The hairs on the back of my neck stood to attention. What in hell was he doing down here? He never came down here.
August’s hand was still clenched in mine when I was jolted awake by Sorio’s monstrous voice. I tiptoed around the small bed as I struggled not to bump into anything. The sound of the metal doors springing open and my cousin’s heavy footsteps on the outside of the closet door indicated that he’d stepped into the morgue area.
I zipped out of the door, closing it behind me. I was seized by fear as I gripped the handle, not letting it go. My action led Sorio’s gaze to the area of my body that hid the door handle from his view. I dropped my hands away from the door and pasted a fake smile on my face.
“Can I help you?”
He didn’t answer my question. Instead, he frowned and stared me down like a detective who knew I was hiding something. I was one tremble away from freaking out. What if August coughed or stumbled while trying to get up?
“What are you doing in this dreary ass place? You’ve been around so many dead people that you sleep in here too?”
He didn’t give me a chance to answer his questions because he was coming up with his own scenario. He usually did. It was not like he was going to listen to anything I had to say anyway, so I remained quiet.
“What are you hiding down here?”
“Nothing,” I answered, my voice sounding nervous to even me.
He pointed an authoritative finger at the closet door, his brows pinching in curiosity.
“You got something in there you don’t want me to see? It’s eight in the morning, and you’re down here in the fucking closet of the morgue? I’m only going to ask you one more time. What the fuck are you hiding, Regina?”
His agitated tone had me such a nervous wreck that I rung my hands and bit into the inside of my cheek to chase away my fright.
I couldn’t let Sorio find August. Sorio was the reason he’d been tortured and shot in the first place.
Now that he’d finally recovered enough to wake up, I had to do everything in my power to protect him. If Sorio found him, he was going to make me watch him kill August before he killed me.
My head dropped to my chest as my gaze landed on the floor. “It’s…it’s my dildo. All my sex toys, actually.”
My gaze remained aimed at the floor until Sorio’s voice grated across my skin.
“Why don’t you do that nasty shit in your fucking room? Is it even sanitary to be doing some shit like that around this smelly-ass place? You’re sick. I’m going to see about getting you moved someplace else. Frankly, I’m sick of seeing your sad fucking traitorous face anyway.”
Sorio hated me because I didn’t embrace the will of this family. I was also labeled the rebel because I’d run so many times.
Sorio stepped closer, and I inched back, bumping into the door before gripping the handle again. He placed an authoritative finger in my face, his mean glare backing it up. His gaze ran up and down my body, my nervous reaction making his frown deepen.
“Are you kidding me right now? You think I want to go in there and see some shit you’re down here fucking yourself with? I don’t want to see that shit. I got more important things to worry about than the sick shit you’re down here doing. I came to let you know that we should have two bitches coming once my men round them up. I want you to bring their ashes to me instead of Luis. You understand?”
I inclined my head, glad he was more concerned about business than what I had behind the door. In the two years and seven and a half months I’d worked on the farm, there had only been three women I’d had to burn, and each time, Sorio wanted their ashes. I had no idea what he did with those women’s ashes, but I was sure it wasn’t something I wanted to know.
He walked off, glancing back at me with a mean scowl on his face like I was the one who had come bothering him. He shoved the doors open, sending them flying into the hallway before he exited. His heavy steps faded with each passing second, and I didn’t breathe until complete silence rained over the space around me.
