“Time for baptism.” He says to the men assembled. Many wave bottles of liquor and beer. Some take swigs as they look on with lust filling their eyes. They almost look rabid, like the hare Snake had to put down once out by our little cottage.
For such a rowdy group, they line up with no problem in dousing us with liquor and beer to pour over our bodies and down our throats.
Rudy pinches our noses closed as each man laughingly pours alcohol down our throats, dousing our hair and sprayingour faces. They find it particularly hilarious when either of us retches, spewing it out onto the floor.
“Lightweights,” he chuckles cruelly, grabbing my locs at a ridiculous angle.
“You’re all going to die.” I gasp, giving Rudy a wrathful stare.
“Maybe, maybe not, puta, but you and this little butterball are definitely going to be ran through and split open first.” Chuckling loudly, his eyes gleam with promise before taking a swig of tequila.
“String’em up.” Fear seizes me. Easy and I fight against them, ignoring the slaps and smacks against our flesh that are sure to leave bruises. Neither of us has a chance against the two dozen or so men in here, but we try.
Overwhelming us takes no time. They hang us by our wrists on chains linked to meat hooks they obviously got from a local slaughterhouse or farm. Vicious pinches tear into my skin, and I know from the sounds Easy is making that she’s faring no better.
“Don’t cry.” My gaze finds Easy’s wet, yet steady one. Though tied and strung up like meat, I’ve never seen such ferocity in my life from someone, save for the night, my mother tried to save me, only to be struck down, then Hadrián’s face when he came to kill my would be rapist.
“I-I won’t.” I find the resolve to hold back the tears already streaming down my cheeks. They won’t get another tear out of me.
“Think of your happiest memory,” she advises, sniffling like she’s already accepted the inevitable. “The other day at the covered bridge out by Angel’s house was the most beautiful moment we’ve shared.” She confesses, glowing even in this moment of darkness.
“Okay,” I gasp. The pain in my arms is blinding. I push it away, concentrating on making it one more moment, like Snake taught me on the trek to the US. Just one more step on thejourney, and then the next thing we knew, we were here, safe and among friends with Ellie.
“We are going to make it out of here,” I promise Easy.
“Aww, ain’t this sweet,” Rudy croons, coming over after he overhears me. “Too bad that ain’t happening, sweet butt.” Dirty nails dig into my cheeks as he makes me look at his hideous face. “They’ll never find your bodies once we’re done.” A greasy laugh erupts from him.
“Now, who’s after me ‘cause as your new el presidente, I’m screwing first. Angel’s so-called ol’ lady is first. Wet’em up.”
The words barely register before one guy pries my mouth open, pouring whiskey down my throat, then shakes the bottle over me, leaving me no choice but to swallow or gag. My eyes are still stinging when the entire place erupts, as more riders pour in.
I make out Angel cutting his way through men like the Àngel de la muerta, he’s named for. Snake appears out of nowhere, slicing the guy who’s dousing me with whiskey, throat so deep his head looks as though it’s barely hanging on when he falls limp to the concrete floor, his blood pooling under him so dark it’s almost black.
He turns to me, his eyes skating over me for all of a second before he’s cutting us down. He wraps one arm around me, pulling me tight against his hard frame, keeping me from collapsing to the cold concrete, turning to Easy, cutting her down in time for Angel to catch her in his arms.
Madness ensues as a full-on melee breaks out. “Get them out,” Angel tells Snake, who sweeps me up in a bridal hold as the alcohol hits my system like gasoline on a fire.
The ride back to the clubhouse has me trying to cling onto consciousness. The entire ride is silent as Padre maneuvers the truck over the back roads leading to the compound. Easy and I cling to each other beneath the blanket. Snake’s draped over us.
The ride seems quick and endless at the same time.
The cool air of the night is a sharp, stinging thing when the door swings open, snapping me out of whatever stupor I’d drifted into.
The clubhouse is lit-up when we arrive. Cringing, I shake my head when Snake comes around to my side.
“I’m not going in there.” Looking wildly at him, I pull back into the seat, refusing to budge. I know everyone probably knows what’s going on, and to think that half of them probably are happy it did is too much for me to endure. Not all of Rudy’s crew was present. This may not be over.
“I got Easy. Take Saban home,” Padre tells Snake, scooping a groggy Easy up, leaving us at the truck.
Shutting me in, Snake takes the driver’s seat, peeling off toward our house.
“C’mon.” I wake-up to him pulling me back into his arms. He takes the step up to the little cottage we share in one leap. The door is already open. He must have done that before coming back to get me.
Not stopping, he takes me straight through the house into my bathroom.
“Can you sit? You were slumped over the whole time here. Did they shoot y’all up with anything or is it just liquor?” His inquiry floats around me like air bubbles as he eases me into a rose gold slipper chair he bought for me after seeing it at an estate sale when I was twelve and wanted to be surrounded by girly things.
Turning on the water, his gaze lasers on me. I’m hyperaware of my nakedness, but he seems unfazed and completely unmoved by it.
