Page 73 of In Love with the Devil

The door bells ring as it opens. I cover my mouth with the blanket, muffling the scream that wants to come out, but I don’t let it. The images of the night he stabbed, kidnapped, and whipped me flash through my mind again. The memory of thepain makes me nauseous. I can’t push my back flatter against the shelf. The clerk turns his gaze toward me and I cannot beg him any louder with my eyes to help me. My heart is in my ear and I try everything to calm my too-loud and fast breathing, but I can’t. I'm pushing the blanket against my chest so hard it hurts.

Please don’t let it be him. Please, God. Please. I beg you.

The clerk’s hand slowly takes hold of a gun on a shelf under the register and I squeeze my eyes shut, cover my ears, and turn my face toward the shelf to my left. I don’t want to know what happens next. I don’t want to be responsible for anyone’s death. Why can’t he let me be? A sobbing threatens to escape me, but I fight it. It chokes me.

The steps thunder further away from the counter. I look up to the mirror and see it’s a man, but it’s not Julian. It’s some trucker. My eyes meet that of the clerk again, and I guess he sees how relieved I am because he slowly places the gun back under the register. I try to catch my breath, to calm my heart. I bite my bottom lip, trying to keep silent. I don’t mind the taste of copper, but my lip hurts.

“How are you doing this morning?” the customer asks the clerk while I pray to the universe that the TV is covering my obnoxious, heavy breathing.

“Very well, thank you. Would that be all?”

“Yup.” The customer pays for a cup of coffee, and a pack of cigarettes, bids the clerk goodbye, and leaves.

It’s only after the cops arrive that I accept I’ve escaped. They ask me a million questions and I can’t answer any of them. Everything is a blur. It’s almost as if I can’t understand English. The words jumble and refuse to come out of my mouth coherently.

I escaped.

God only knows how long before he finds me again, but I escaped. I’m not such a weak whore after all. I walked miles away from him.

The nurses at the hospital help me change into a gown. The cops take the bag with my clothes but when they ask me for the yellow blanket; I hold it tight against my leaking, swollen breasts and shake my head until the nurse tells me it’s okay, that I can keep it. As they collect my blood, I watch the news announce that I’ve been found. Apparently, the reason I only saw a gas station was because I walked all the way to the next city over. That explains the road, too.

How am I here? Is this real?

When the doctor shows up, the first words that I can pronounce are: He has my baby.

“Baby?” Both he and the nurse look at me with disbelief and their eyes sweep down to the wet spots on the gown.

“I gave birth yesterday. He has my baby.”

“Let’s run an ultrasound and a few more tests on you,” proposes the doctor.

“Can you please contact my friend? Her name is Mindy Estacio.” I give them the last phone number Mindy had before Julian took me.

“I’ll take care of it,” says the nurse to the doctor before I'm left alone.

Hands tug at my arm, then nudge it. It’s hard to wake from the first deep, safe sleep I’ve had in more than a year. “Tory?”

The touch and voice startle me. “Mindy?” She’s standing right next to me and I can’t believe my eyes. I lift my head from the pillow and scan the room to find Fernando at the door, but I’m too shocked to greet them. Is this another dream tricking me into believing everything is going to be fine? I’ve had so many of those. I take her hand. It’s real and warm. I can smell her perfume. Mindy is right next to me. “Mindy…” A shaking sob pours out of me while I lean my forehead on her belly. She holds my head and her tears wet my shoulder.

“Tory.”

I sit up with my legs over the side of the bed, and we have a proper hug. I never want her to let me go again. Leaning my cheek on her shoulder, I see Fernando shedding tears, too. Slowly, we release each other.

“You’re okay,” she says it as if she's surprised while cupping my cheeks. I don’t know what to say to that because I’m not okay, not at all.

They still haven’t brought me my baby.

“Hi, Astoria,” greets Fernando while still standing by the door, guarding it from all evil.

“Hi.” I smile at him. He doesn’t know he’s the only nice guy I’ve ever known. Maybe one day I’ll have the courage to tell him that.

“I’ll let you two talk. I’ll be right outside,” he says.

“I’m so glad you’re okay. I was so scared he’d done something to you that I never asked him. You must understand, I was scared, but you were the only thing that pulled me through, Mindy. I’m so sorry.”

“Sorry for what, Tory? You were kidnapped. I’m sorry we couldn’t find you. I’m sorry I didn’t pick up that you were being stalked.”

“Is Mom alive? I tried to convince him to leave her alone, but he-he wanted to kill her.”

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