Bride

by Sara Fields

  I decided to keep quiet, at least for now.

  “You know, at first I was just going to let it go. Marry a nice girl, perhaps from another family, but then I learned about what you do,” he began.

  I really didn’t like what he was insinuating.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I have friends all around the world in various industries, but only a few in medical tech. They told me about your company, about the potential in the compound you’re developing, and I decided that I was curious enough to look into it,” he continued.

  I took a step back.

  “I’ve never gotten involved in the legal world of pharmaceuticals. It’s typically much more lucrative that way, but from what I’ve heard, your compound is going to turn the drug world on its head. As my wife, your assets are mine and as such, it belongs to my family. The money you bring in for me is going to change everything. It might be enough to wipe Ismael’s sorry ass off the map. Mexico will be mine and I won’t stop there,” he chuckled dangerously.

  “I will give you nothing,” I scoffed.

  His gaze hardened and I wondered if I’d gone too far.

  He grasped the gun on his belt and pulled it free from the holster. Slowly, he stroked up and down the barrel. With a hard pull, he cocked it and aimed it lazily at me. I stilled, staring down the length of the barrel knowing that all he had to do to end my life was pull that trigger. Everything would be over in less than a fraction of a second. He looked back at me with a dark expression that insinuated all that and more. I pressed my lips shut.

  I wouldn’t say anything more. I wasn’t stupid.

  “Go bring her to Esmerelda and get her cleaned up. I want to see what she looks like when she’s not covered in filth,” Nemesio demanded, and Scar grunted in understanding behind me.

  I had my fists by my sides. I was still only wearing my bathing suit and the knitted coverup, but it had long since lost its clean hue. My legs were covered in dirt and my shoulder was throbbing from the fresh cut of that rock. My head was still pounding and to avoid any further complications, I turned and faced Scar with a sigh of acceptance.

  “Lead the way,” I said quietly, and he pointed down the hall. I didn’t look up at Nemesio again. Seeing my compliance, Scar started walking. I followed, with Righty and Lefty close on my tail.

  They escorted me into the right wing of the mansion, where there was a woman waiting in an oversized guest suite for me. It was in the center of the house on the ground floor. There were only two windows, but both of them had decorative bars on the outside. I had a sneaking suspicion that they were actually more of prison bars than anything else.

  “We’ll be right outside,” Scar murmured, nodding politely to the woman. My three guards exited the room, closing the door behind them. There didn’t seem to be any way out and even if I could, I wouldn’t know where to go and what to do in the dense jungle all around the house. I had never had any sense of direction, and I didn’t even know if Grayson was still alive. At this point, I just had to survive and get out of here alive.

  I didn’t want to assume the worst. Nemesio could have had him killed, or maybe he was just fucking with me to keep me compliant. For all I knew, Grayson could have just assumed I’d taken the first opportunity at escape and run off. He had more money than he knew what to do with.

  To be honest, he could do better than me. He could have the prettiest girl in the world. With me gone like this, maybe it would be for the best.

  I blinked back tears. I turned my gaze to the floor.

  “My name is Esmerelda,” the woman offered gently. Her accent was thick. English probably wasn’t her native language.

  “Zoe,” I whispered. I couldn’t stop the way my voice trembled, and I felt her reach out to me. Her hands were soft as she squeezed my shoulders.

  “Nemesio likes his women silent and obedient at all times,” she said quietly, and a disgusted shiver raced down my spine.

  That was something Grayson had known. He’d liked that about me. He hadn’t sought to change me or control my life in the way that I knew Nemesio would.

  I choked back a sob.

  This wasn’t how my life was supposed to go. Less than a week ago, my whole existence had been consumed by my work. Every minute of my day was dedicated to growing my company so that I could save those around the world. But that was before I’d walked into Grayson’s office that fateful morning.

  Now the only thing I could think of was that I may never see him again. I may never feel his arms hold me. I may never listen to the constant steady cadence of his heart when I curled up against him or get to see the tiny dimples on his cheeks when I sassed him. I’d never get to feel his fingers on my skin or get to touch him in return.

  He could already be dead.

  I started to sob in earnest. Esmerelda pulled me into her chest, wrapping her arms around me to calm me but it only made me cry harder because I couldn’t stop thinking about how I wanted it to be him holding me rather than her.

  “There, there. It’ll all be alright. Let’s get you cleaned up and you’ll feel better,” she murmured.

  She was an older woman, maybe in her late fifties or early sixties. Her long brown hair was streaked with gray. The wrinkles around her kind eyes were soft, but they showed the passage of time all over her face.

  “I don’t want to be here,” I blurted, and she reached into the pocket of her skirts, handing me what appeared to be a handstitched handkerchief.

  “When I first came here, I didn’t want to be either,” she replied, her kindness emanating with every syllable.

  “What?”

  “My father sold me to this house. Our family was deep in debt to Nemesio, and the only thing that could keep them alive was me. My hand in marriage erased what my family owed,” she continued.

  “And your husband?”

  “He’s one of the men outside. I was his reward for his loyalty to Nemesio and the family,” she continued.

  “Which one is he?”

  “He’s got the scar on the side of his face. He earned that when he failed to obey Nemesio’s orders once. He hasn’t made that mistake since,” she explained.

  “Do you love him?” I asked.

  She sighed.

  “In a way, I suppose. Santiago has his moments of kindness. A bit rough around the edges, but that’s life. It’s better knowing that my family is alive rather than dead lying in a ditch somewhere,” she mumbled softly.

  Her story didn’t give me much hope.

  “As Nemesio’s wife, you will be treated with respect from the family. It will afford you luxury in that way,” she added.

  “Unless he decides I deserve a black eye instead,” I muttered. When she didn’t correct me, I wasn’t surprised. Nemesio looked like a man who was used to getting what he wanted no matter what he had to do to get it.

  “Nemesio likes to hide those kinds of marks in places where others can’t see,” she finally replied, and I shuddered hard with both disgust and fear.

  “Come. Let’s get you washed up,” she offered, and I took her hand, feeling numb inside. There was a tub full of water, scented with roses and jasmine. I didn’t fight her when she grasped my coverup and pulled it over my head. She quickly shimmied my bikini bottoms down my legs as I reached behind my back and untied the top. I threw it on the floor beside the rest of my clothes.

  She gave me a hand as I climbed into the copper claw-foot tub. The water was hot at least and when I settled inside it, she started getting to work on cleaning me off. Her hands worked at my flesh purposefully, but without any feeling. She’d probably been told to prepare me for the wedding tonight and knowing the reputation of the cartel, she wasn’t given much choice in the matter unless she wanted to wind up dead.

  I lost myself in my thoughts of the past several days, trying to imagine Grayson beside me so that I didn’t go into a full-blown panic. She washed the filth off my skin gently, but I didn’t really feel anything. When she was done, she ha
d me soak in the water for a while before she rinsed me off. She conditioned my hair and left me once more, walking out in the room to leave me be.

  I enjoyed the moments of privacy, knowing that they’d probably be the last I’d be afforded in a good long while. When it was finally time, she used a small cup to ensure that all the oils and conditioners in my hair were fully washed out before she helped me to climb out of the tub. She wrapped me in a fluffy white towel and led me back into the bedroom where there was a lacy white wedding dress waiting for me.

  To be honest, it was really quite hideous. I could even smell the cigar smoke coming from it from several feet away.

  It was a modest design, but the amount of lace was so overwhelming that it was off-putting. The skirt was massive and covered in more layers of grimy fabric than I could possibly count. Esmerelda must have seen my distaste because she smiled politely and placed a soothing hand on my arm.

  “It’s traditional. Nemesio’s mother wore this on her wedding day and now you will too,” she tried to explain.

  Fucking fantastic. Not only was he an abusive asshole, but he was a momma’s boy too.

  “I see,” I replied flatly.

  “Let’s wait to put it on. I’ll do your hair and makeup first. I think there’s a robe around here if you get cold,” she offered, and I nodded.

  She sat me down in a chair and started to brush out my hair. She worked quickly and efficiently, as if she’d done something like this many times before. She styled my hair into a partial updo once she’d fully brushed and dried it before she started on my face. I closed my eyes when she told me to. I pursed my lips and opened them when she wanted. When she was through, she had me look in a mirror and I did what was expected and told her what a wonderful job she’d done.

  When it was time to put on the wedding dress, I resigned myself to smelling like an ashtray for the foreseeable future. I tried not to gag as she pulled it off the hanger but failed when I stepped inside the massive lace skirt. She buttoned the back all the way up. The neckline went all the way up my throat and was a bit too tight.

  The whole thing was rather ill-fitting. The sleeves were puffy at the shoulders and the hips were too loose around mine. My breasts were a bit too full for the dress and were flattened by the unbreathable material, but all that paled to how much stronger the cigar scent was now that the fabric was surrounding my body.

  I hated everything about it. The lace was scratchy and uncomfortable. When I looked in the mirror, I loathed the way I looked because it wasn’t anything like the one I had worn for Grayson.

  No. Now I supposed to walk for an infamous drug lord who would probably kill me as soon as I outlived my usefulness.

  I felt like crying, but I didn’t want Esmerelda to have to fix my makeup after she’d done such a nice job.

  “When Nemesio take you to his bed tonight, take your mind to another place. Don’t think about him. He won’t even make you look at him because he prefers taking a woman from behind, so that will make what I say next easier. Think about a lover, back to a time that you enjoyed yourself the most and lose yourself in that memory. He won’t last long. Probably less than five minutes, most likely less than three. It’ll be over before you know it,” she whispered shakily.

  “Why do you know this?” I asked hesitantly.

  “There was a stipulation in the agreement when I was brought here,” she began, and I stared back at her hazel eyes for a moment, seeing her pain radiate from within them. “Nemesio would fully forgive my family’s debts if he was able to enjoy my body whenever he wanted as well. He didn’t want me as a wife, which is why he gave me to Santiago.”

  I licked my lips, horrified at her admission.

  “I’m sorry,” I finally managed to say.

  “It’s a life,” she replied.

  I held my tongue from saying anything further. It wasn’t my place.

  For a while longer, she fussed over me. She tried to pull in the dress in a few places to make it fit a little better, but there was so much fabric that it didn’t do much good. When there was a knock on the door, she sighed in frustration before she called out to whoever was there.

  “One more moment!”

  She pulled me close.

  “Keep your head high, Zoe. I know you’re strong. You’ll make it through this,” she whispered hoarsely, and I smiled.

  “Thank you for your kindness, Esmerelda. I won’t forget it,” I answered quickly before the door burst open.

  It was her husband, Santiago.

  “They are ready. I’m to escort the bride to where she needs to be,” he said curtly.

  Esmerelda nodded silently. The way her body bowed toward him showed that she was subservient to him, or at least she’d accepted her life to be this way. She didn’t look at him with love or anything that remotely resembled it.

  I didn’t know if I was capable of something like that, not after what I’d felt with Grayson.

  I stared at the floor as I walked out of the room and followed Santiago. I didn’t really see the finely decorated interior of the villa. Everything passed by in a blur. The paintings morphed together in one long line, and I blinked quickly, knowing I was close to crying once again.

  The heels Esmerelda had slipped on my feet clicked along the tiled floor with every step. My heart hammered in my chest, one numb beat after the next as each step brought me closer to the nightmare my life had become. Along the way, someone shoved a rose bouquet into my hands.

  I wished I’d never woken up inside that trunk.

  Santiago led me out the back door onto a cement path. We stopped so that another woman could unclip the train at the back of my dress. Another placed a tacky tiara atop my head.

  It took everything in me to hold back my tears.

  When we reached the gardens, I saw that there was a large group of people seated and waiting for us. Nemesio was wearing a fitted tuxedo and I swallowed hard as I was guided to the end of the aisle.

  He stared at me, and I glared right back. His chubby face looked me up and down, leering at me as if he was undressing me with his eyes right then and there.

  I gripped the bouquet in my hands, feeling the sweat on my palms grow clammy. My hands were shaking with my endless nerves. I jumped when music started playing behind me, the traditional beats of a wedding song far too loud and jarring for me.

  I didn’t want this to be real. I didn’t want any of this. I lifted my eyes to the sky and tried to find some semblance of courage from within me. There wasn’t any to be found. This wasn’t like Grayson and me; there wasn’t even a modicum of tension between us, not a single sliver of curiosity. Nemesio was a monster, a ruthless criminal who ran one of the most dangerous cartels in the world. He’d spill my blood in a heartbeat if it would get him a bit more power or money or probably even for a prettier wife.

  I took a shaky breath, resigning myself to the terrible fate lying before me. Nemesio could take my body. He could take my business and everything else that was mine, but he would never have my heart because that already belonged to another.

  It belonged to Grayson.

  I took that first step and lifted my head. I pretended that the man at the end of the aisle was him. I imagined the perfection of his dark eyes, of his proud smile as he watched me come to him. I fantasized about the hard expanse of his chest and the corded muscles of his arms waiting to catch me and wrap me up in their warmth.

  For several moments, it worked, but eventually the vision faltered, and I was left with the ruthless gaze of the monster that had taken me. I blinked. Something was wrong. I furrowed my brow and stared at Nemesio’s dark evil gaze.

  There was a tiny bright red dot at the center of his forehead, almost like a laser.

  I stopped in my tracks and his grin of conquest morphed into an even more dangerous scowl. A quiet pop reverberated somewhere far behind me. Instinctually, I pitched myself forward. My palms caught my weight on the sculpted cement beneath me and at once, someone began to scream.<
br />
  I looked up just in time to see that Nemesio had been hit. A small circular hole between his eyes started to fill up with blood. His gaze was stunned at first before it turned glassy, his body wavering back and forth. He fell to the ground with a sickening crunch, and I turned away, not wanting to see the pool of blood grow beneath him.

  Someone else in the audience screamed and a chorus of shouts followed. Men jumped up, grasping at the guns on their belts with furious glances all about. I pushed myself up and lurched toward the altar. With each step, the amount of panic behind me only escalated, but my courage pushed forth anyway. Nemesio’s lifeless body was to the right of the altar, so I chose to rush around the other side before I ducked behind it in search of cover.

  An all-out war exploded behind me. The sound of gunfire was deafening, and I closed my eyes and curled up into a ball as I shivered with fear and blatant adrenaline. After taking a deep breath, I peeked around the edge of the altar, trying to figure out what was happening and what my next move should be.

  Men in black combat gear were storming into the gardens from the jungle. All of them carried assault rifles and seemed dead set on mowing down all the cartel members who had come to see me get married to their boss.

  A stray shot ricocheted off the altar and I yelped as the wood exploded above me. I pressed my body down against the ground, but the rest of my cover was quickly blown to splinters and toothpicks in a matter of seconds.

  I couldn’t stay here. I had to run and fast.

  I pushed myself up off the ground and took off across the garden. I lifted my skirts the best I could and when someone caught the train under their boot, I took the opportunity to use their weight to tear it. The monstrously long train ripped as if it were old dried-out paper and I kept running. I jumped over a few bodies along the way, trying desperately to avoid stepping in any pools of blood. I couldn’t avoid it all though.