Page 9 of Trapped

“Did I do anything stupid last night?” I ask. Ariella’s eyes shift as she thinks.

“Not anything out of the ordinary. Oh, but you did tell Genesis, and I quote, to ‘loosen that pussy.’”

Well, that would require an apology text later. Genesis is as innocent as Ari when it comes to talking about sex. As Conejo’s eldest daughter, she had been raised to become a wife, a bargaining tool. I am crude with my close group of friends and family because they knew me. It is never my intention to embarrass or make someone feel uncomfortable like that. Especially not someone as sweet as Gen.

I rush to get ready for work while Ariella makes us coffee in the kitchen. I notice one of my necklaces is missing when I get out of the shower. I always wear the same two gold necklaces religiously. One is a sacred gold San Cipriano medal that myAbuela gave me. San Cipriano was the Patron Saint for witches. I rub my fingers over the chain.

The other necklace was a gift from Patricio at my first communion; a gold plaque with “Consuelo” engraved into it. I frantically rush into my room and search under the covers for it. I never took it off.

“Thalia, we have to go!” Ariella screams from the living room.

I throw on some baggy black cargo pants, my tennis shoes, and a plain black tee. Fuck. I know Ariella is going to gasp, but I am gonna have to force a casual Friday on a Wednesday. Thank god she moved down to help me. I am a mess, but Patricio still thought it was a good idea to leave me in charge. Since her degree is in finance, it only seemed fitting to offer her an internship with me as the new Chief Financial Advisor.

I go to grab my phone, but I can’t find it, either.What the fuck is going on?First my necklace, and now my phone. I search around my room one last time but come up empty. I had blacked out last night, so it’s possible I lost it somewhere along the way home. The conclusion does little to settle my anxiety. I look around my room and take in the energy of it. I always trust my intuition, and right now, I can feel thatsomethingisn’t right.

“Contigo sí me perdería en qualquier laberiento,” I sing into her ear.

Our bodies align.

Her arms wrap around my neck.

Her head rests on my chest.

I’m not a fan of dancing, much less dancing to romantic music. But here I am, the emo kid singing a Spanish song into the ear of a woman I met and married the same day—my wife. I could stay with her like this all night. Just like the lyrics say, I would follow her through any maze. She could walk into the depths of hell, and I would follow behind her.

I didn’t think I was ready for this, but everything my father said was true. Love comes with time. I’m not in love with her, but I want to be. I know I will be. If time is the variable that determines love’s arrival, then she is a ticking time bomb.

There is a sense of pride for the men in my family to watch over the women who care for us. My father divorced my mother so that she could be free of his demons, but he still makes sure she is taken care of. None of his short-livedmarriages could ever replace who she was to him. She loved him when he had nothing to offer her.

As much as I look up to my father, I don’t want to be him. When I said those vows, it was forever. I won’t make Thalia feel like she isn’t enough. When the song ends, Thalia steps back and smiles at me. I kiss her cheek and pull her into me.

“This will be the first thing to go,” I say as I hook my index finger underneath her necklace and tug gently. “You’re a Macias now.”

That memory of our first dance as husband and wife torments me all night. I squeeze the fist that holds the dainty chain I had ripped off her neck. I go through Thalia’s phone while I sit at my work desk. She has a unique method of naming the male contacts in her phone.

Sancho

Booty Call

Ugly Af but Gives good Head

I squeeze the necklace tighter as red flashes in front of me.

Dead

Dead

and Dead

My anger gets the best of me. A loud thud sounds as I watch pieces of her phone fall to the ground in front of me in satisfaction. She won’t be calling any of these numbers.

“Jefe.” I look up to see Jasper standing at the door.

“Did you set up the cameras?” I ask.

“Yes. I just emailed you the viewing link.” Jasper stares down at the shattered pieces, then back at me.

“Good. Now delete the link from your phone.”

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