An annoying beep creeps into my fuzzy consciousness, prompting me to feel around the nightstand to find the alarm clock. A thousand sharp daggers stab at various parts of my body all at once and I cry out. When something clinks as if dropped to the floor, a hand catches my wrist and forces my arm back on the bed.

"Lie still, baby." Though Miguel's voice is soft and gentle, it still manages to send a shiver to the depth of my bones.

I force my eyes open. Bright fluorescent light blinds me as pain floods my brain. Nausea seethes in my throat. My eyes squeeze shut again with a whimper. When my muscles spasm, I scream, my throat raw and scratchy.

"Doctor, she needs more medicine."

Cool fingers clutch my wrist to take my pulse. "She just had a dose thirty minutes ago. Impossible to give her more."

"But she's in so much pain." Miguel's words overflow with despair. Despite what happened between us, I'm touched by his worry.

"I'm sorry, Commandante, but I can't give her anything for at least two hours."

A door opens and closes, making my head pound harder.

"Stacy, can you hear me?" Miguel's warm breath brushes against my cheek.

The yes is more like a croak.

He strokes my palm. "Do you remember who attacked you?"

I open my mouth to form words, but even this proves an impossible task. "Rebels," is the only thing I manage to whisper.

"We thought so. Oh, Stacy, I'm so sorry this happened. Oscar should've never let you wander off by yourself."

I try to tell him that it wasn't Oscar's fault, but only hot air leaves my mouth.

"Don't talk."

Silence follows. I want the darkness to return, but the beeping of the monitor startles me every time I drift off to sleep. The constant throbbing intensifies with each twitching muscle and the harsh pain is overpowering.

When I cough, my scream vibrates in my ears. I sink deeper into the pillows, wondering if any part of my body was spared from the woman's fists. Miguel's mumbling voice distracts me for a while as he talks to someone on the phone in Spanish.

After what seems an eternity, the door opens again. I want it to be the doctor with a new dose of pain medicine, but Tomás's voice blasts my hopes. Something cool wipes the crook of my elbow.

"I'm going to give you an injection," Miguel says. "Hold still."

I can't even protest before the tip of a needle pierces my skin. Blood rushes in my ears and the noises around me become surreal as I drift into a land without pain.

~~~~

The pattern continues and I lose track of time. The few times I manage to open my eyes, the bright light makes it impossible to distinguish day from night. Miguel is glued to my bedside, cooing around me and supplying me with the magical injections that ease my agony by giving me a temporary buzz.

At some point, the pain becomes more manageable and I'm able to string a few words together. Since my head must have received at least a couple of blows, I claim that I hardly have any recollection of the attack. Miguel doesn't press the issue; he's convinced that the rebels are to blame and threatens to kill them all.

"When they found you by the river all banged up, I thought I'd lost you. It broke my heart, especially since we had that terrible fight the night before. I'm so sorry, Stacy. I love you and swear to be more patient with you."

His words open up a raw scar. The memories of that fateful night had been banished to the deepest part of my mind, and as long as the physical pain raged through me, I could even forget about it.

I swallow down the "you raped me" together with my tears. If I want to get out of Malaguay, I have to try and get along with Miguel.

"I want to get married soon."

He squeezes my hand. "Oh, Stacy, that makes me so happy. I'll talk to Naiara and she can start to organize things. She's really good when it comes to planning big events."

"Sounds good." An idea forms in my mind. Intending to exploit his good mood, I add, "Maybe Shauna can give her a hand. I really like her and want her to be my maid of honor."

He looks torn, but when I flinch in pain, his opposition dwindles. "Okay, I'll talk to Tomás. I'm sure he'll agree."

I close my eyes, faking exhaustion to avoid further conversation.

He strokes my arm. "Do you want another shot?"

"Uhum." I shift in the bed to find a more comfortable position. "What's that stuff anyhow?"

"Liquid cocaine."

My eyes go wide. "You have been giving me drugs?"

"Hey, relax. It takes a while to become addicted and I couldn't let you suffer."

I want to strangle him. "There's still a chance to become addicted. I don't want to take it anymore." Any pain is better than becoming the slave of some drug.

"Are you sure? You know, I have enough. It's not like your supply would ever run out."

The glare I give him summons a sheepish smile.

He brushes a kiss on my forehead. "I have to go. Ever since you've been admitted to the hospital, I've been neglecting my work and need to make a few phone calls. Is that okay?"

I nod, craving some alone time.

"When will the doctor release me?" I hope to stay at the hospital for a while longer, scared that the memories will come flooding back as soon as I set foot inside the mansion.

"How about tomorrow? That gives you an extra day to recuperate, and I can make arrangements for a nurse to take care of you at home."

"Okay."

When his lips meet mine, they are gentle. "Try to get some rest. I'll see you in a couple of hours."

After he leaves, I stare at the ceiling. It'll be exhausting to constantly pretend that I have forgiven him, especially since this could go on for months, maybe even years. The prospect sits like a block of cement in my stomach, but if I ever want to make it home to Indiana, I have to become a master of deception.

~~~~

Getting back to the mansion has its perks. In addition to Miguel, Naiara and all the servants constantly wait on me hand and foot, making sure I have everything I need. As soon as I wake up, I usually settle in the shade by the pool, getting spoiled while enjoying the warm breeze. The nurse brought along plenty of painkillers and Miguel arranges for me to have a Kindle with an unlimited supply of books to kill the time. I even discover The Soul Summoner, a super cool paranormal series by Elicia Hyder, who becomes my new favorite author.

On the third day, I'm just getting ready for my afternoon nap when Shauna appears on the terrace. Her escort is the young boy who almost raped me, stalling my initial elation.

"Hey, Charo," Naiara greets him while pulling herself out of the pool. "Que tal?"

They exchange a few words in Spanish and she joins Shauna and me under the umbrella. While she orders herself a margarita, Charo gets settled in his own chair out of earshot. He starts reading the Kindle.

My forehead wrinkles. "Does he know how to read?" Most child soldiers can't read the simplest words, let alone a complex book.

"Who?" Naiara turns around. "Charo?"

"Yeah."

"Oh, he's really bright. He lived in the orphanage for many years and is not only fluent in English but even speaks a little French."

Then why did he pretend he could barely speak English the night we met?

As Naiara rattles on about the wedding, my gaze keeps flicking to him. Roasting in the sun, he's engrossed in the book, only sipping his water from time to time without giving us the benefit of a glance.

"Stacy." Naiara waives her hand in front of my face. "Are you listening?"

I try to focus back on the conversation. "Sorry, what did you ask?"

"The cake. I need to know if you'd prefer the chocolate cream or the raspberry fudge?"

"Not sure." I turn to Shauna, who has hardly muttered two words. "What do you think?"

When I nudge her with my foot, she awakens from her daze. "I don't know," she responds automatically, like someone pulled a cord on a chatter doll.

Naiara rolls her eyes. "Some help you are. Picking a cake is a huge deal."

I disagree. Given that the majority of Malaguay's population is just scraping by, the whole subject of cake flavors seems superficial. Add that this will never be my dream wedding, and my motivational level is below rock bottom.

Shauna's pupils dilate and I follow her gaze to find Tomás pacing behind the open living room door. Angry Spanish words drift our way as he shouts at someone on the phone. Even Charo has torn himself away from the book and is listening intently.

When Tomás's broad frame appears in the doorway, Shauna jumps up. "Can I please use the bathroom?"

"Sure." Naiara's face is twisted with curiosity as she glances from Shauna to her husband and back to Shauna. "I'll show you where it is."

She ushers her the other way toward the kitchen just as Tomás steers right in our direction. He briefly halts to chat to Charo and they do that weird guy-handshake-side-hug thingy.

After that, he graces me with this presence. Hostility pours out of him and he slams into the chair with so much force that the legs squeak. It's the same seat his wife just occupied moments ago. "Where did Shauna go?"

"The bathroom." My brows crumple. "Is everything all right?"

He lights himself a cigarette and inhales deeply. "That bitch convinced my nephew to borrow his phone for a minute. Turns out she made a call back to Ireland, and I have the embassy inquiring if she's being held against her will. Ridiculous. They finally backed off after our lawyer faxed them the marriage certificate."

All warmth leaves my face. "What are you gonna do to her?"

"Not sure yet." More anger spills out of him, together with a cloud of smoke. "I should cut out her fucking tongue. At least that will stop her whining."

Goosebumps spring up all over my body. "Tomás, please. You have to give her another chance."

"I don't believe in second chances." He takes another drag from his cigarette and flicks away the butt.

I'm about to pitch Shauna's case when his attention shifts to Charo who has walked up.

"Got a smoke?"

I toss him a dark look; he must have a knack for bad timing.

Tomás hands him the pack and Charo fishes one out, lighting the cigarette before reclaiming his seat by the pool.

I watch as he inhales deeply. "Isn't he a little young to smoke?"

"Not in Malaguay. Besides, Miguel lets him get away with murder. I find him kind of annoying."

"You know he almost raped me."

Tomás snorts. "You still don't get it, do you?" Amusement sparkles in his eyes. "That whole thing was a setup. It pissed Miguel off that you were so in love with Felipe when he wanted you for himself. He knew he didn't have a chance unless Felipe did something horrible and he could play the hero."

I stare at him, struggling to keep a straight face. "Are you sure?"

"Positive. Felipe told me and I took it as an opportunity to blackmail Miguel into a promotion."

I'm confused by his confession. "Won't Miguel be furious that you told me now?"

"Probably, but who cares? Maybe you haven't noticed, but I'm one of the few people who isn't afraid of Miguel. He won't kill me because he needs someone to do his dirty work, and Charo isn't ready to run the show on his own."

When Naiara reappears on the terrace with a very pale Shauna, he stands. Yanking his wife's wrist, he shoots her a vicious glare. Shauna recoils under his touch.

"Let's go home. You and I need to talk," he hisses.

"Tomás, don't." Naiara rests her hand on his muscled forearm. "She's pregnant."

"Seriously?" The tension leaves his face, maybe for the first time since I met him. "Dios mío, finally. I already worried something was wrong with her." He flings his arm around his wife's shoulders and actually kisses her temple. "Well done, honey. This calls for a celebration. Let's go out for dinner."

Shauna's eyes are filled with disbelief as he whisks her away.

"That'll get him off her back for a while." Naiara plops back into the lounge chair and studies her fingernails. "I think I need another manicure."

My gaze leaves the spot where Tomás and Shauna have disappeared into the house. While I'm thrilled he won't punish her for the phone call, the baby will be a total game changer. Getting out of Malaguay will be impossible for her.

Worry crawls up my neck; Miguel didn't use protection. Technically, I could be pregnant too, bound to him by the life we created. Since I would never consider an abortion, this could become an issue.

I give Naiara a fake-smile. "Do you know where Miguel is?" The weasel will have some explaining to do about Charo.

"I saw him go up to his room earlier."

When I step inside, the house is cool, the curtains drawn to shield the interior from the hot afternoon sun. Walking up the steps is still incredibly painful; when I reach the bedroom, I'm short of breath. Doubling over to fight the stabbing ache in my back, I prick my ears. Soft moans float through the closed door.

I decide to knock, but my hand stops midair as the moans grow louder. There's definitely more than one person behind that door. I take a deep breath, uncertain what to do. Without making a sound, I pull the door open a crack, just wide enough to slip in.

The room is dim, a light musky smell of sweat hanging in the air. Twisted sheets on the bed hide two figures. When I appear next to his bedside, one of Miguel's legs sticks out. The girl underneath him is young, maybe sixteen, if not younger. I recognize her as one of the kitchen help who usually washes the dishes and takes care of the garbage.

When the girl gasps, he stills.

"You son of a bitch!" The shock that he's actually cheating on me while I was planning our wedding is like a stab to my chest. I storm out, slamming the door behind me.

"Stacy, wait."

Almost stumbling over my feet, I run down the hallway to get as far away from him as possible. Tears blur my vision, a dull ache spreading in my chest. Screw that guy from the warehouse. I would rather die than marry a man who's a cheater like my father.

~~~~

© Sal Mason 2017

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