Page 82 of Life

God, please don’t take Bree or her baby. Not because of me, or because of my past. Please don’t. Let them live. Spare them. Take me. Do whatever you must to me. Just save them.

“Save them. Take me,” I whisper, eyes closed tight, hoping God heeds my prayer.

“Oh, I plan to take you, and there will be no saving of your soul.” Antonio bites the words at my ear.

I shiver and move my head back as best I can, and then cry out as more pain rips through my clavicle and shoulder.

Antonio stands above me, his arms crossed over his chest. “You have been a bad, bad girl, haven’t you, Maria. And starting today, you will pay long and hard for what you did to me.”

“To you! And what about me, Tony?” I sneer. “That night, you were going to kill me. For what? For cheating on you? I never cheated.”

He grimaces, and his eyes get blacker right before me. “You let men touch what was mine. All the time. I wasn’t enough for you. You had to go and take on all those other dancers. The body you gave to me, promised was all mine, you gave to them, repeatedly. Do you not think you should suffer for that?”

“Let me go, Tony. Everything that happened is in the past. Just let it go. Disappear.”

He scoffs and leans close to my face, spittle hitting me as he grips my hair at the roots and pulls my neck back. Something digging into my skin near my neck causes me to shriek in pain.

“You do not scare me. Your new boyfriend and that rich bitch friend of yours will never find you. And even if they do, all they’ll find are the pieces I’ve left behind.” He slams my head down onto the concrete, and I see flashing lights.

“Tony,por favor. Mi rey…we can still be good together.” I try for reverse psychology. I now know he’s too demented and twisted to let me go. He’ll never reason with me. My only chance now is to give myself more time. Hopefully, someone will have seen the accident and followed him.

“Your king? Is that what you call that bounty hunter boyfriend of yours, too?” His words slither like snakes leaping from his mouth. Then he shakes his head. “I will not fall for your deceit. Your time is up, and I want blood. But first, I need to reintroduce you to a well-known friend of yours.”

He grips my head and forces me to look across the room. A tall, exotic-looking woman with black hair and dark eyes is standing by an old claw-foot tub. She flicks on the water at full blast and grins evilly.

No amount of courage or strength can stop the shaking that comes over me at the sight of the bathtub. He’s going to torture me. The same reason I can’t even step foot into a bathtub to this very day is because of all the torture I’ve suffered by his hand.

“Tony, no…” I plead.

“Si,mi reina. My queen. Your bathtub awaits.” He lifts me by my armpits and brings his head close to my ear. His citrus-and-clove scent has me nauseous, my mouth watering, readying to vomit. “The temperature is perfect and all for you. I do it all for you.”

Chapter Twenty

The water isice cold when Antonio drops me in the tub. Water sloshes out, hitting the concrete floor. My head is barely above the water. I can’t move my arms, and my hands are crushed under my weight. I wiggle as much as possible, but my ankles are tied together so tight the rope cuts into the skin. Water floods into my mouth, and I maneuver best I can to keep my head above the overflowing tub.

The dark-haired woman laughs maniacally. “Look at you. Dirty, wetcadela. You think you’re so hot now. How does it feel to be stranded? Threatened. No one to help you. Just like you did to myirmão.” She intermingles Portuguese into her words.

“Your brother?” I gasp and suck in a bit of water. I use my toes to push against the edge of the tub to hold my head up. Water still splashes into my mouth, but I can breathe through my nose for the most part.

Her coal-black eyes become hollow puddles of disgust, the same way her brother’s do. “Sim, meu único irmão.”My only brother, she confirms. “And you took him away for five long years. There is nothing you can do to repay that. Even your pitiful life isn’t enough.” She flicks my nose and then pushes me underwater.

I shake my head back and forth, trying to break loose. My lungs burn as I hold my breath for as long as possible. Just when I’m about to suck in a breath of water, she rips my head up by my hair. My scalp stings at the violent hold.

“You think one go is enough? Oh dear, you have the hounds of hell to take you under before we give you the relief of death. Right, Antonio?” She sneers and pushes my head back against the cast iron tub, smacking the giant egg I already have from the car wreck and the slam against the concrete. I’m on the edge of consciousness, the room spinning like a twister around me.

Smack, smack, smack.

“No, no, no.” Antonio tsks. “We want you awake for every moment of this,” he mocks.

When I get a handle on my vision, his lips turn up in a sinister smile and he forces my head back underwater.

Over and over, they half-drown me until my lungs are burning white-hot fire, pain lancing through every limb. I can no longer feel my feet or hands as the ropes have cut off all circulation.

The sound of Tony and his sister’s laughter rings in my ears like sirens as they push me under again. This time, I can no longer fight it. I hold my breath for as long as humanly possible and close my eyes. Visions fill my mind, taking with them the fear of death. Beautiful moments in time that comfort and soothe in my time of need. This. This is what people see when they say their life flashes before their eyes.

My mother’s soft, dark hair, just like mine. Silky soft as I ran a brush through it when I was four years old.

My dance teacher applauding me during my final audition when I got into the elite dance company.

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