Page 31 of Trapped

It has only been five days, and this man has broken me. But I think I had been broken long before now. Maybe when the threats started. If a psychiatrist saw the way I had ranted to the chickens on the ranch, I would likely be locked up. You can only get so much from talking to chickens. I am desperate for human attention. Every night, I touch his side of the bed, where my fingers linger in the cold, empty space. Every morning, I lie awake, staring up at the ceiling, thinking of Silas and his second family. In that rage, I plan another escape, which motivates me to shower and get dressed. Then I wait patiently by the door like a little dog for Vero.

The woman was a bit cold at first. Granted, I had tried to tempt her to betray her boss, whom she talks about as if he is her lord and savior. She’s warmed up to me, though. I found her soft spot when I asked about the town’s history. This woman knows everybody and everything about everybody. I don’t even know the people she is telling me about, and yet I am hooked on the gossip.

Vero’s sister is on husband number three, and every one of them has mysteriously died within a year of marriage.What a badass. I might need to learn some pointers from her. Every morning, I wait by the window, and every night, I beg Vero to stay a bit longer. She never had her own children, and her husband has passed, so it doesn’t take much convincing. The only downside is I have to watch her favorite Spanish novelas, despite the cringeworthy love scenes.

I’m sitting inside the large window in the front sitting room that overlooks the driveway. My eyes bounce between the clock and the window—nine oh-nine. Another twenty minutes pass, and my chest expands when I finally see Vero coming up the long driveway. She’s not alone, though. Another person walksbeside her. The closer they get, the more I can make out the other person. Her bust is hidden behind a black dress shirt, with rolled-up sleeves displaying an array of tattoos. She wears black dress pants and shoes. Her hair is long and tightly braided to show her faded undercut. They get closer to the house, and I run to the couch and pretend to read a book on the table.

“Señora Macias,” Vero calls out before her eyes find mine. Her brows pinch together, and her eyes zoom in on the book in my lap. I look down to find The Holy Bible sitting there. Not a book I would usually choose. Vero shakes her head, then looks at the tall woman that dwarfs her.

“Señora Macias, this is Alejandra Macias.” Our new visitor walks toward me and offers a soft hand.

“Ale,” she says. I extend my hand to hers and take in the similar but more delicate features she shares with Silas. She has his straight nose and full lips. Her eyes, however, are not the same demon-possessed ones Prince Uncharming has. Hers are lighter and friendly.

“Where’s Silas?” I ask, dropping my hand back to my side.

“Miss him already?” I raise a brow, unamused, and she laughs.

“He should be back tonight. He sent me to come check on you. Is everything alright? Vero been good to you?”

“Vero’s been a fucking saint.” And she has been. She makes me the best café de la olla, she hand washes my clothes, and yesterday, she ran me a bath and brushed out my hair. My mommy issues are definitely showing through with the amount of times I have teared up when this woman does something kind for me. The same way Olivia had cared for me when we were younger.

“Do you have a phone, by chance?” I ask Ale.

“I do, but I’d like to keep my life,” she responds.

I sigh and walk up the stairs, back toward the bedroom. I flop to the bed and lie there. Ale follows me and stands inthe doorway. She looks down at the vanity, where Silas left the picture of our wedding day. She picks it up and smiles at it.

“You know he did all this for you?” I sit up, and she walks to the bed to sit beside me. “Aurelio would never give Silas much information on you; not if it was something that would jeopardize your safety. But Axel—Axel would play with Silas’s emotions. Bribe him with small tidbits about you. What you liked, your favorite movies, your favorite color.” She smiles to herself, and I look down at the picture in her hands.

“It wasn’t long before he didn’t have to ask Axel anything. Your fame had spread all over the border towns. When the time came to restore the house, Silas built something fit for his Goth Queen.”

A lump forms in my throat, and I swallow it down. In my life, if I wanted something, I had to be the one to make it happen. I had to make sacrifices, even if it meant swallowing my pride to access my trust fund. People didn’t build things for me. They watched in awe as I built them myself. They’d praise me for my strength, but they were ghosts the moment my strength wavered.

“Why didn’t he come back for me?” I whisper. The silence grows between us before Ale clears her throat.

“At first, it was because he didn’t trust you. After, it was because Aurelio warned him not to.”

I stand up and cross my arms as I begin pacing the room. Ale grabs my arms to stop my nervous behavior.

“I don’t know why he brought you here, Thalia, but I do know anyone who tries to take you from him again, myself included, would find themselves six feet under.”

I don’t try to convince Ale to help me escape for the rest of the day. Her loyalty to Silas is evident. Loyalty is the greatest form of respect in our world. If put in the same situation, I know Osiel and Ricky would remain loyal to me as well.

Instead of the escape plan, Ale and I walk to the end of the road, and I help her haul a Christmas tree from the back of her truck. I can’t help but wonder how Olivia and the kids are decorating for the holidays. I’m zoned out, placing tiny hooks through the decorative balls. I barely notice Ale’s question. She coughs loudly before repeating herself.

“Does that tattoo have any significance?” I look down at the cage tattoo I often get complimented on. I refocus on the task at hand and place the decorative balls on the tree.

“The tattoo is always evolving, I guess. When I first got it, it meant one thing, but as I’ve grown, it’s morphed into other meanings.” She nods in understanding. That was the truth.

Right now, I feel like I am trapped here with Silas, but by choice. The last few days, I have experienced feelings I thoughtwere void in me. Feelings of longing, for him and for my family. There’s this need to be vulnerable and ask him the questions I know may show that soft part of me, the part I protect in cages, with high walls and barbed wire fences. It is the part of me I hide from everyone, the part of me that cares. Cares about being loved. Loved by Silas. Loved by my family and by Lucia.

It is easier to escape the feeling of rejection if I avoid every situation where that was a probability. I avoid serious relationships so I won’t feel the heartbreak that comes with love. I avoid fighting for my daughter because of the fear that she, too, will reject me. I could have fought for Lucia sooner. I could have tried harder, but there has always been a lingering feeling of not being enough for her. I am able to protect her, but I am afraid of disappointing her. I didn’t risk the chance of being a bad mother by giving her the only mother figure I knew. I barely register the tears until Ale’s arm falls on mine.

“Are you okay?” Her voice is soft. I wipe my eyes.

“Yes. Sorry. The tree just reminds me of my family, and I didn’t realize how much I would miss them.”

“Of course, you’d miss them. They are your people.”

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