GRINGA (25 page)

     
             
‘Wait!’ I hiss, but she continues running. It’s dark and I worry she will be snatched by one of the other men patrolling the ranch. I sprint after her and eventually catch up with her.

     
             
‘Let me help you, please!’ I beg. ‘English? You speak English?’

             
‘Si, Senorita,’ she says.

             
‘Thank God! Come with me.’

    
             
‘E
xhausted and crying, she allows me to lead her to my room. I lock the door and offer her a shower, which she accepts. But she is terrified of Tongue finding her again, so we turn off the lights and creep around like clumsy burglars in the dark. Finally, she crawls into my bed and falls asleep.

             
When I wake up the
next morning, she is wide awake
, her eyes the size of saucers.

    
             
Her name is Anna and she is fourteen. Fourteen! Tongue the Motherfucker – he really deserves to die.

    
             
As soon as the men leave the ranch, I, with Maria and Rosa’s help, make plans to get Anna back home. I suggest she reports the rape to the police, but Maria and Rosa tells me that it’s not a good idea as the police are friendly with Diablo and Christa and, well, Tongue may exact revenge by hurting her family, maybe even killing them all to set an example. 

    
             
I look helplessly at my ward, then give her a hug. But she gently pushes me away. At first I’m taken aback but then I think maybe she doesn’t want to be touched right now. I get it.

             
Anna speaks rapidly to me in Spanish.

             
I look to Maria for interpretation. 

             
‘Eh, she say ... she eh, is grateful that I saved her and if ever I ever need help ... ’

             
I smile grimly at Anna. ‘I’ll remember that.
Gracias
.’ 

             
Over time, I see Tongue bring in a few more young girls, but I’m unable to help them. Anna was one
who
managed to get away. The others, he just kept until he grew tired of them then cut them loose.

    
             
Tongue deserves to die a horrific death. I hope one day I will be the one who kills him.

*
             
*
             
*

It’s obvious Christa is seething – she gives me dirty looks and hisses threats whenever she sees me. Clearly she hasn’t forgiven me for disrespecting her during the
Austin
incident. Her insults and cursing grows in intensity and I know it’s only a matter of time before she avenges herself, so I’m wary. And scared. 

    
             
To add to her frustration, she probably realises she is losing control over Diablo these days. He seems eager to hold onto me and her jealousy and insecurity surfaces randomly.

             
Today, Christa is yelling at everyone about
something
. Diablo is out for the day, so I tread carefully and avoid her. I’m in the courtyard when Tongue suddenly walks up to me and presses against me.

             
‘Can you feel my hard on? We go to my room? Now? Whachusay, eh?’   

    
             
The men laugh at Tongue’s antics, but
Troy
yells at him to leave me alone. Tongue and
Troy
engage in another heated argument. To my horror, Tongue draws his gun and fires into the air.
             

             
Troy
immediately backs away.

    
             
Christa arrives on the on horseback and demands an explanation. She listens to both guys and yells at
Troy
to holster his weapon. Then she looks pointedly at me and I flinch.

             
‘Maria,’ she yells, ‘bring my whiiip.’

             
Now Tongue’s going to really get it. Good.

             
Maria hesitates and glances at me.

             
Christa turns really slowly and gives Maria a cold, hard stare.

             
Maria quickly runs into the villa and returns with Christa’s whip. 

    
             
Christa takes the whip, smiles and trots towards Tongue. But suddenly, she turns and lashes at me, tearing my dress of my back.

             
I scream in agony and even try to run, but she’s on horseback and has an advantage over me - she whips me again.

             
Troy
, who I believe is my saviour by now, runs after Christa and tries to grab the whip of
f
her, but he’s not fast enough. I get a third lash before he manages to yank the whip out of Christa’s hands.

    
             
I lie on the ground whimpering and in agony. My clothes are in tatters, the skin on my back is in shreds and I’m going into shock.

             
Troy
kneels next to me. ‘Gringa … Gringa …’
The distress in his voice tells me I must be in worse shape than I thought.

             
Maria and Rosa are holding each other and crying but they do not help. I realise by now that they dare not or they will suffer the same fate as me.

   
             
‘Gringa ... Gringa …’
Troy
chants. 

    
             
‘Diablo ...’ I whisper, still expecting Christa to
whip me, ‘get ... Dia …blo ...
’

    
             
Then I hear the thunder of hooves and turn my head slowly to the side. There he is - my big, terrifying beast on a black horse, galloping at me at an incredible speed, looking as terrifying as he did when I first encountered him. At that time, I was petrified of him, thinking of him as a monster. It’s a different story today - he’s my rescuer today and he’s going to save me from the vindictive witch with the whip.

             
At the sight of me lying on the ground, bloodied and in tatters, Diablo suddenly slows down and trots towards me.

             
‘Gringa …’ I see him mouth.  

             
‘Diablo!’ Christa says. ‘How nice to see you. I think you cooome home tomorrow, eh?’

             
Diablo does not answer, his eyes are fixed on me. He looks at
Troy
for an explanation
. 

    
             
Troy
explodes in Spanish and points to Tongue and Christa. Diablo listens silently, his eyes hooding up and his jaws starting to jut. Then he nods, takes the whip off
Troy
and rides up to Christa.

             
‘N
o Diablo
!’ Christa screams. ‘I’m your mooother! Pleeeeease!’

             
Diablo lashes out at her. She falls off her horse and we hear a snap – like the sound of a bone breaking.

             
I had no idea Diablo would turn on his own mother because of me!

    
             
Next,
Diablo turns to Tongue.

             
‘No, no, no Diablo!’ Tongue pleads.
‘Is a misunderstanding, tha
t
’s all,
amigo
.’

             
The closer Diablo trots, the more desperate Tongues voice becomes.

    
             
Diablo
lashes out at
him. Tongue screams in agony and sinks to his knees. Diablo whips him again and again. Three lashes.

             
Not finished with Christa, Diablo turns and looks at her.

             
She drags herself into one of the villas and bolts the door. Everyone knows that Diablo killed his father at the tender age of thirteen. Obviously, Christa remembers that as well.  

             
Diablo rides back to me, gets of his horse and kneels besides me.

    
             
‘Diablo ... help ...’ I croak.

    
             
He shakes his head from side-to-side and gently scoops me into in his arms. Even though he is careful, I scream in agony as he carries me to my room. With great care, he places me on my belly on my bed.

    
             
Rosa and Maria rush in and start snipping at whatever’s left of my dress so they can administer treatment. Some of the men hurry in and start helping – getting hot water, sending for a doctor, while others shake their heads and tsk.  

             
A doctor
is brought in. He
administers intramuscular sedation and I sink into a deep sleep.

    
             
A couple of times during my deep slumber, my eyes flicker and I see Diablo sleeping on a chair nearby. I’m glad - I feel safer with him around.

             
In the morning, I feel someone stroke my hair. I open my eyes and look straight into Diablo’s. Slowly I turn my face so that my cheek connects with his hand that is stroking my hair. Now why did I do that?

             
When I open my eyes again, he’s asleep next to me, fully clothed. And snoring really loudly.

It’s been three weeks since the whipping and I’m wide awake and healing nicely with
Rosa
and Maria’s constant nursing.

             
Diablo sits at the edge of my bed and cocks his head to one side.
‘
Y
ou need anything?’ He’s
been
thoughtful
lately
and I appreciate it.

             
‘Mmm.’ I reach over for an empty chocolate box and flip it around. ‘’Nother one of these.’ 

             
‘Of thiiiis?’