DRINK THIS
From somewhere far away, the sound of Eva's scream ripped through my consciousness. "Carla, wake up! That bitch Madeleine fucked us."
The impact of her statement hit me like a tidal wave, jolting me awake. I shifted my body as I came to. My hands and legs felt as if they were modeled in concrete.
"Carla! Can you hear me?"
I grunted, frowning at the bitter taste in my mouth.
"What? Hello. Wake the fuck up, girl. Now! I don't know where I am or how long we've been knocked out." Chains rattled suddenly, almost as if Eva was tied up and struggling to get out of her shackles. "All I know is, Madeleine poisoned you and then these mob-looking guys walked into my apartment and took you. When I fought back, they took me too and drugged me."
Another grunt. This time lower, so low it made me question my sexuality. Damn, my body hurt.
"There was a guy there. Big and intimidating. For some reason, he looked familiar but for the life of me, I couldn't place him. Any idea who he is?" Eva continued, unbothered by my discomfort.
I forced my eyes to open. I blinked several times as my eyes adjusted to the overly-lit room. Dark brick walls, curved ceiling, concrete floor, and two bright ass construction lights beaming from two corners of the room, reminiscent of what I assumed the second coming of Jesus Christ would look like.
Since Eva was a white girl, she looked damn near translucent in the harsh light. Her brown hair was a mess and there was a bruise on her chin.
"Big and intimidating, huh? I know a lot of men who fit the description. Starting with my husband. He's tall and intimidating. And then there are my bodyguards: Schipper, Vlad, Bruce... and if he tries to look intimidating, there's Sergio. You're going to have to narrow that down for me."
Eva and I were shackled on opposite sides of the room. Our chains ran through a thick iron hook behind us. Eva was upright tugging her way to freedom while I sat against the wall with my legs stretched out in front of me.
She stopped to glare at me. "You're no help at all, but I'm glad you're awake."
"That's too bad. I could have gone a little longer without seeing the beautiful sight of your trustworthy face."
"I can't believe that bitch betrayed us." Her disdain was audible above the continuous rattling of the chains she was desperately trying to escape.
"I guess Dante was right. I feel stupid now." I wiggled my toes, trying to ward off the numb sensation I felt creeping up my legs.
"You couldn't have known. Hell, she and I grew super close these last months and I didn't know."
"The hardest part is not understanding why she did it." I rested my head on the wall and sighed. "Dante thought it was Jenna at first."
Eva gave up on the tugging and slid down the wall in a miserable heap. "And who do you think it was?"
I winced when I realized I had a headache so severe, I feared my skull would split in two.
"None of you," I managed to say after a long pause. "I couldn't even fathom the thought."
Eva met my stare with somber eyes "Thank you for trusting me."
"I trusted Madeleine too," I said in a sad voice. "My judgment sucks. I wouldn't read too much into it if I were you."
"Well, I'm not her. Bitch, look around you, you're locked up in a psychopath's dungeon, and look who's here with you. Your day one. Your bestie. Put some respect on that."
I smiled at Eva's way of speaking. She'd spent most of her childhood years in the United States ministering with her parents in impoverished societies, namely hoods, and ghettos, before moving to Haiti where she and I met. Most of her friends from the states were African American, and through those connections, she'd managed to retain a more urban way of speaking.
Before I could tease her, a door hadn't noticed until now, swung open with a loud creak.
Two men dressed in all black strode toward Eva. One held her still while the other released her from her shackles.
"What's going on?" I demanded when they started dragging her out of the room. "Where are you taking her?" The men ignored me, not bothering to stop to look at me. I stood up. "Hey! Stop! Where are you taking her?"
The door slammed shut and I heard Eva screaming my name. "Carla!"
"Eva," I wailed, fearing what was going to happen next. I pulled at my chains, hurting myself in the process. "It's going to be okay. I love you."
My best friend's screams abruptly ended. Two seconds later, the lights went off and the room plunged into darkness.
I wasn't afraid of the dark, but after hours of nothing, I started imagining things in the room with me. All the scary movies I had ever watched were suddenly at the forefront of my thoughts.
Hunger gnawed at me and I continuously swallowed my spit when my mouth dried out in thirst. Tired of standing, I dropped myself to the floor. More time passed. Hours. Still no sign of Eva. That couldn't be good.
My legs cramped up again, pins and needles wreaking havoc on my circulation. Like a cripple, I slowly stood up, kicking my legs out in front of me as I paced the room.
And then I needed to pee.
More walking. Pacing. Leg shaking.
Fuck.
Quickly, I managed to lower my underwear before getting rid of it altogether. I didn't even have a chance to give my mind permission before a long steam of hot piss gushed down my legs.
I watched as the puddle grew larger, cringing as drops of warm pee splattered on my ankles.
The humiliation was real, even when there was no one else in the room with me.
Left alone in the dark, I ruminated on everything that happened after Dante found that first note on our wedding night. I recalled the way we made love, oblivious, lost in my newfound wedded bliss. When he told me about the second note, I was more angry about him not telling me about the first note than about the note itself. I had undermined the seriousness of the notes and everything that followed.
I thought we were invincible, that my husband's reputation as a trained assassin and his familial connection to the mafia would have kept us safe.
I couldn't have been more wrong.
Madeleine had managed to weasel her way through the bubble of protection we had erected around us. The extra security had been for naught. I had given access to the enemy by being too trusting.
A betrayal like no other. Shit hurt.
My heart ached. I curled up in a ball and cried. I cried for my mother and for the relationship we never got to have. I cried tears of regret for running away from my husband, the one person who loved me beyond comprehension.
Whenever life didn't go my way, I tended to lash out verbally, and if that didn't work, I ran.
When I was seven I ran away from home after my father passed away. All this time, I thought my mother had forsaken me, but it was me who left her alone to mourn while I fostered a new relationship with Eva's family.
I played the part of the imposter child so well that Eva's parents eventually stopped asking me to go home.
The door opened, the sound loud in the darkness. Fluorescent light from the hallway spilled into the room. The outline of a figure with broad shoulders and long legs appeared in the doorway.
The figure approached me, his heavy, deliberate footsteps sending shivers down my spine. The dim light from the hallway cast long shadows ahead of the man until he came to a standstill in front of me.
He shoved a blue plastic cup in my face. "Drink this."
I looked up at him but was unable to make out his features. He was dressed in a grey suit. Had thick hair with a beard. Was tall and in shape.
Maintaining eye contact, I cleared my throat. "Um, not happening. You've poisoned me twice now. So thank you, but no thank you."
"Don't argue with me," he said in a low, gruff voice. The rough edges carried a sense of control, a stark reminder of the power he held at that moment. His accent was unmistakably Spanish and slightly familiar.
I grabbed the cup of what appeared to be water and drank. Gosh, I didn't notice how parched I was until now. I drank the entire thing and then sighed.
"Who are you?" I asked as the man continued to stare at me. He had an intense gaze, one that made me want to hide behind my skin.
"I can see why he left us for you."
I frowned. "What?"
"You remind me a lot of my wife before she ended up paralyzed." He took the cup from me and placed it on the credenza across the room. "She was fucking beautiful. Still is, but our enemies snuffed the light out of her."
Bells started ringing in my head. "Wait a second. Are you Dante's uncle?"
A heavy silence settled in the air, stretching into a palpable tension as the question hung, unanswered.
"Oh my god, you are Dante's uncle. You're Mateo's dad, right? And Aunt Elena is your wife." Still no answer. "I'm so sorry for your loss. I met Mateo once and he seemed like such a nice guy."
"He was supposed to be the next Don. He had all the qualities, and nice wasn't one of them. That was just a facade. He had a way with the ladies." I caught a small at the corners of his lips before he turned away.
"Can you tell me why I'm here?" I asked softly.
He scratched his beard. "Our family lost a lot of women to our way of life, both in this generation and the ones before. I think it's God's way of punishing us for selling drugs to his children. It's our curse." He sounded sad, almost brokenhearted. "My wife is still alive and that's only because the enemy didn't get the dosage right when they tried to poison her."
"I'm sorry about what happened to your wife, but what does any of this have to do with me?"
He turned from the credenza toward the door. The bright ass lamp came on in his absence. Immediately, I shut my eyes to avoid the blinding light.
Dante's uncle, whose name I couldn't remember to save my life, strolled back into the room, looking better than Steve Harvey could ever look in a suit. He was handsome in an ugly way. His aura reeked of evil.
"Sweet, girl. Do I have to spell everything out for you?" This time he carried a small vial in his hands. He rolled the transparent glass bottle between his fingers as he spoke, and with every spin, the glass caught the glow of the bright ass lamps, nearly blinding me. "I've told you, the women in our family don't live long, and you're part of our family now."
The truth of what he was saying sank in as I took a moment to analyze his words. The vial, a vessel of unknown contents, became a macabre talisman in his grasp, amplifying the ominous nature of his revelation. "Are you going to kill me?"
"Yes."
I stood up and flew toward him, but the chains holding my arms and legs captive, dug into my skin, yanking me to a sudden, violent stop. The metallic chill bit into my flesh, a stinging reminder of my captivity. "Why?" I demanded. "What did I ever do to you?!"
My plea hung in the air for a moment too long. His next words, a haunting declaration, cut through the stillness.
"You married the wrong man."
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Did you see this plot twist coming?