Page 16 of Punished

She wraps the blanket around herself as he lifts her upand carries her into the bathroom. I start the water and she sits on the toilet, her face blank. She’s trying to make sense of all this. I can tell, with the disorientation written all over her expression. Gael will have to run more tests to figure out what drugs were in her system. I repeat my mantra to her, “Breathe, Soledad. It’s just me. It’s Mireya. You are here, in this moment; you are safe, and you are cared for.” I look up to see Adrian watching me. His arms are crossed as he leans on the frame of the door. I want to reach for him and comfort him.

“Do you need help?” I ask her, motioning to the bathtub. Everyone leaves to give us privacy, and she nods her head slightly. I shut the door and help her into the bathtub. There is woman empowerment and then there is this. This raw feeling where you see the scars of another woman and you can feel everything they are feeling in that moment. You understand how truly little you are in the eyes of a society that claims you the weaker sex. My fingers move gently as I use a sponge to bathe her. By the time I have helped her dry off and into some of Thalia’s PJs, Gael has set the room up for her.

“Let’s get an IV going. I don’t need any test results to see she is extremely dehydrated,” he says to me, and I help with the IV. Once we have her set up and comfortable in the bed, Patricio makes his place in the chair next to her. Heand Adrian have had it out several times about him taking her to his estate. I know Patricio has a private staff that can care for her 24/7, but Adrian refuses to let her out of his sight.

I am beginning to pack up my medical supplies when Patricio shoots up from the chair.

“Mireya, please, can you stay the night tonight? Just so we have someone on hand?” He runs his fingers through his thick brown hair. His green eyes are pleading, his face exhausted.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea.” I look to Adrian, and his eyes meet mine. We stand there for a second. I know they are all worried about her, but I don’t want to make Adrian uncomfortable.

“You can sleep on the couch.” I can see the torment in his eyes as he walks away. I want to follow him. I want to wrap my arms around him, tell him how I messed up, and figure out how to be there for him the way I need to be. I want to talk through what the last six years have been like for me. How much I needed him at one point. How I underestimated Bryan’s plans that night. I never wanted to hurt him, and I need to make things right.

I can’t sleep. I thought I would be able to once I knew my mom was safe, but I hadn’t realized how stressful the process would be. Images from that farm where they kept her appear every time I close my eyes. Young girls drugged and disoriented. Even in prison, if we found out grown men were hurting children, we would cut their fucking heads off and all play basketball with them. Even criminals like us loathe pedophiles.

But I know my mother is safe now. Patricio refused to leave, and she seems more content to see him than me, so I didn’t fight him on it. The same way I didn’t fight him over the busty brunette sleeping on my couch. When she looked at me tonight, I could see the pity in her eyes.Poor Adrian. I don’t want her pity. Not when she played a part in my incarceration. To be honest, my anger has no landingpoint right now. I am pissed at everyone who had been in that room. I am mad at Patricio for not protecting my mother from his brother, mad at Mireya for letting Bryan use her as an alibi, and mad at myself for being born. I hated the way that doctor stood up for Mireya, and I had wanted to reach out and rip his heart out of his chest. He was the exact person I had envisioned her with when I let her go. The type who could offer her the world, and yet I still can’t see her with anyone but me. I hate myself for that, too.

Watching her with my mom made me want to stop this push and pull game with her. They are the only two women I have ever cared about. I can see why Patricio asked her to stay. I know she cares about my mom, and not just because she’s a nurse, but because she cares about this family.My family.

I look at the clock on my end table and I see it’s 4AM. I throw the blankets off me. Trying to sleep at this point is useless. The penthouse is quiet, and I need a cigarette and something to eat.

I’m mouth deep into some corn flakes, trying to stay quiet, when I hear footsteps coming from the living room. I reach for the gun in the back of my pants but stop when I see her. Mireya is walking around the living room in her bra and panties.

What the fuck?

This is exactly why I didn’t want her to stay. I knew it would be awkward, but I didn’t think in a million years she would be stripping down and walking around my penthouse half naked. She bumps into the couch but keeps walking towards me. I’m already prepared to ask her what the fuck she’s trying to do when I notice the deranged look on her face. As if she is a zombie, mumbling but detached.

Holy shit. She’s not… sleepwalking, is she?

One of my old cell mates would strip down to his whitey tighties and wander the halls. He had been locked up most of his life, and the senior guards were aware of the behavior. They would warn us not to wake him. He would get violent if we tried, but as long as nobody woke him up, he would eventually wander back to the cell on his own. Other times, they would gently guide him back to his bed. He was already prone to violence in his waking state; no one wanted to see what a disoriented version of him looked like.

Mireya walks past me with her eyes open, but barely acknowledges my existence. I check down the hall to see my mom’s room is closed. Patricio is in there, and I don’t want him to see her like this. She walks to the patio, and I am right behind her as she makes her way to the pool. She sits on a patio chair, and when I move to face the front ofher, I have to do a double take to make sure I am seeing this clearly. She is sitting on the edge of the chair and her legs are spread wide. She’s mumbling something, but I can’t make out what she’s saying, so I move in closer.

“Adrian.”

“Adrian.”

“Fuck me, Adrian.”

My spine straightens.

Hijo de su chingada madre. Motherfucker.

Did she say what I think she said?

My dick sure as hell heard that as it grows beneath my sweats.

I don’t have time to tell it to calm down when I see her striding in a seductive way right towards my pool. I run my hand over my face as I watch her plump breasts bounce. She’s walking on her tiptoes, like she’s walking a runway in heels. I can’t help but laugh. If I had my cellphone, I would record this shit. Blackmail her with it. I step in front of her. She stops, like she can see me, but her eyes are glazed over. She’s still stuck in whatever erotic dream she’s in. I gently turn her around, so she is facing the penthouse. The touch of her skin doing nothing for my hard on, and I pray Patricio stays in that room. I doubt any of this looks innocent. Her half dressed and my hard on. She barely registers my touch and stands still. I move tothe front of her to see if she is finally gaining consciousness. My eyes roam over her red lace bra and the see-through panties, her cunt glistening under the Texas moon light. We are only a few inches away when she runs her hand over her breasts. It’s seductive, and it only gets better when she runs that same hand into her underwear and begins to massage herself. Her hand palming her shaved pussy as her middle and ring finger slide in and out. My eyes are glued to the movement. The moon continues to shine on her, the brisk air hardening her brown nipples under the thin material. She looks like a goddess, and sounds like one, when she begins to moan. The sound is low and sweet. The long syllables ringing out, an invitation to join her. I grab my erect dick and begin to pump it at the same speed. Back and forth, back and forth. I can hear her wetness as she moves her fingers quicker. What kind of sex demon comes out of her at night if she’s masturbating while she sleepwalks? Does she do this every night?

I start pumping my cock faster, my strokes matching hers. I pull up my shorts just in time to catch my cum shooting out. She’s breathing deeply as she tries to catch her breath from her own self-induced orgasm. Then, like nothing happened, she walks back into the penthouse. I follow behind her but guide her back to my room. There’s no fucking way I’m going to chance her walking aroundlike that with Patricio in the other room. I guide her into my bed and whisper for her to lie down as she continues to mumble. She lies down effortlessly as she returns to sleep, but not before I hear her murmur again. “Fuck me, Adrian.”

When I wake up, I am in complete dismay. I’m IN ADRIAN’S BED! I’m in Adrian’s bed in my bra and panties. Oh, and to make matters worse, my panties are soaked.What the hell happened?!I look over to see my clothes neatly folded on the side table beside me. I panic more when I see the clock. It’s a little past 8AM, and I quickly begin to get dressed.Shit, I must have been sleepwalking again.

I don’t know how I got here. Did I fuck Adrian last night? Oh my god, what if I tried forcing myself on him? Images of me breaking into his room, sex deprived and unconscious, flood my mind, and anxiety takes over. Worse than the anxiety is the fact that I’m slightly turned on by the idea. “¡Calmate!” I scream internally, hoping the message makes its way from my brain to my vagina.Assuming she speaks Spanish, since she obviously didn’t get my English memos to stop lusting over Adrian.

I finish putting on my shoes and make my way to the door. I slowly open it, sending out silent prayers to any slut-shamed ancestors who could spare me this embarrassment. I peek down the hallway. The door is shut where Patricio and Soledad stayed. I listen and don’t hear any sounds of Adrian in the house. He could have left already. I listen for a second longer before determining the coast is clear to run out. I have no time to do the walk of shame. I need to do a full-speed slut sprint out of here. I tiptoe to the hallway and double check the living room. It looks empty. I come up with my mastermind plan to shoot straight across the hallway, past the kitchen, and to the door before making contact with anyone.

I am halfway through executing my plan when I get to the kitchen entrance and run right into Adrian. The cup of coffee he was holding now all over the front of my shirt. I gasp, and he moves to grab some paper towels.

---