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"I'll love you until my last dying breath, Janie." Walker bent low, kissing the top of Janie's head.
"No. You don't leave it like this." In an act of desperation, she was pulling him to her lips and putting everything she had into the kiss. He didn't have to leave. He didn't need to go after them.
He reluctantly released her. She could tell he was thinking about his decision. The way his shoulders grew rigid, and his jaw set tight; his body was locking up. She'd seen that look before. It was the look he made when he had come to a decision, and everyone who knew Walker, knew that once his mind was made up, there was no changing it. He turned away from her, walking quickly.
"If you love me like you say you do, then you won't walk out that door!" Janie yelled at his retreating back. She hoped he'd give her one final glance back. This was it, the kind of love she'd only ever dreamed of, but with one last footstep, he was gone. He never looked back.
"Alejandra, put that book away. He's coming," Sasha scolded, interrupting the best part of the story.
I tucked the novel I was reading into the back of the vanity. Sasha picked up a blush brush and moved it over my cheeks, making it look like she was still working on my make-up. The door opened without a knock.
Just once, I wished he knocked, or better yet, I wished he'd just disappear.
"Mr. Sokolov's plane is grounded. A hurricane popped up out of thin air. Wipe that shit off her face," my Uncle Enrico ordered Sasha. I wanted to bare my teeth, then take my make-up brush and jam it into his eye, but I didn't. I couldn't; he'd proven to me too many times that his strength was far superior to mine. He had men and power, and I had none.
Despite wanting to gouge his eyes out, there was something I needed to ask him. I knew it would be risky, but I had to know. The cries were too loud. The pain was too remarkable to ignore.
"The woman..." I began.
"Is none of your concern." He cut me off, irritation lacing his words.
"You're hurting her. It's too much. Please," I begged for the stranger that I could hear crying through the vents. I never asked him for anything, but for her, I had to try. I didn't know where she was in this house, but I knew he was hurting her. Her cries haunted me. I laid awake in the evening, and all I could hear was her tortured pleas.
I should've known better than to question Enrico.
His hand connected with my cheek. The force of it sent me to the floor. My face stung, but I felt it was worth it, if I gave that woman a voice.
I looked up at Enrico, as he spoke. He straightened his tailored jacket and relaxed his body like he was calm and in control. "Sasha, clean her face up. I don't want a mark on her when Sokolov arrives." Sasha nodded and kept her head down. She was the dutiful servant in his presence, and I really couldn't blame her. Perhaps she did everything she could to make sure she wasn't the woman in the basement.
"Lock the door when you're finished," Enrico ordered as he left the room, not looking back.
I knew what he was going to do before I opened my mouth, but I did it anyway. If I said something he didn't like, he didn't hesitate to leave me locked in here for days at a time with no food, no water, and no one to speak to.
I knew better than to say anything to his fleeing back. It would have consequences. I probably shouldn't have even asked about the girl, but her cries broke my heart.
"Girl! What were you thinking?" Sasha scolded. "I'll get a salve for your face, and I'll see if I can't find a sleeping pill, so you don't have to be awake for your stay."
As enticing as going to sleep and not waking up for a while was, I had learned that I needed to keep my wits about me. If he woke me from my sleep, I couldn't be groggy.
"It's not necessary," I replied. Sasha nodded as she went to get the salve.
Sasha returned with a metal pot in one hand and the salve for my face in the other. I didn't know what was in the salve. I just knew that if he smacked me, this would stop it from swelling up. The pot was to be my bathroom, a reminder that I had a place, and speaking to Enrico like I was his equal was not it. I hated him. I prayed for the day he would get his.
Three days had passed since Enrico locked me in. I was only let out when Sokolov arrived. I had no energy, and it felt harder than normal to play the role he wanted me to play. Besides Sokolov, I had no interactions with anyone except for when Sasha came in to get me ready and one other time when she rushed in with a glass of water, hurrying to get it to me before she was caught. I hadn't seen her since. It was day three, and I was starving and thirsty. My throat was dry, and my belly had moved beyond the growling stage.
I was sitting against the door with my book in my hand. I had finished it the first day and ended up rereading it yesterday. I heard footsteps in the hallway and knew it had to be Enrico. His steps always seemed measured. Everything he did was calculated in some way or another.
I stood against the door, banging on it with my fist, "Fine, you win. I'm sorry. Now, let me out."
He didn't unlock the door that night. The next day, I felt so weak from the lack of food and water that when Enrico came in, setting a glass of water beside the bed, telling me the puta was not my concern, I stayed quiet.
I drank the water when he was gone, noting that he didn't lock the door.
I was too weak to go to the kitchen. Sasha came up a while later and brought me food, explaining that Sokolov was coming back tomorrow, and I needed to get it together. I learned he complained to Enrico that I didn't have any energy. He was getting a do-over, and I wanted to be sick.
I hated this life. I hated that Sasha was right. I needed to get it together. Still, there was a part of me that stared at the knife that was on my tray for my chicken breast that wondered, could I end this? I knew what Sokolov was like. I knew he was beginning to have an obsession with me. I knew how horrible this life had always been. I could take that knife and end it all. I thought about the girl's screams and how bad it had been for her. It could be worse. I knew it. I had to keep on hanging on.
No, today was not the day for me to end it all. Today I'd eat, and tomorrow I'd play dress up for a Russian mobster. I'd leave the knife alone, this time.