GRINGA (26 page)

             
‘Yeah.’ I open and close the empty box.

             
He nods and leaves.

             
Hours later, a box of chocolates is delivered. Happy to have more chocolate, Maria and Rosa dive for it only to find the box is empty.

             
I look at their crestfallen faces. ‘What?’

             
Slowly, as if it is a hand grenade, they pass the empty box to me. It really is empty.

             
You don’t mess with a patient’s chocolate. ‘Go call him,’ I say in a controlled but icy voice, ‘I need to ... ’

             
As if on
cue, he enters my room, a huge smirk on his face.

             
I lift up the box. ‘Explain.’ 

             
He shrugs. ‘You say you need ’nother one of thiiis so I give you wha
t
you ask for. Empty box.’

             
Maria and Rosa fall about laughing at his cheekiness.

             
‘Did you wan
t
chocolate
too
?’

             
I chuckle. ‘Very funny Diablo. Hand it over.’

             
He steps out of the room and returns with three huge boxes of chocolates and hands one to each of us.

             
‘Aaaah! That’s better,’ I say, pleased the two ladies won’t need to steal my chocolates.

             
I cram two into my mouth. ‘Pank wu.’

             
He leaves with a huge grin on his face.

   
18 August 02

Up and about now. Diablo’s back to his obnoxious self now that I’m okay. But he still doesn’t visit at night. Great.

He was nice to me though. Bought me chocolates, magazines in English and DVDs. Had
Troy
install a Television and DVD player in my room. Watched Spanish movies with no subtitles. Couldn’t understand a fuck they said, so Maria and Rose took turns translating to me while eating up all my chocolate and hogging the TV remote. 

Diablo now works from the ranch so I get to see more of him these days.

Q: What’s wo
rse than being shot three times
, thrown off a cliff and being fucked in the ass by Diablo?

A: Being whipped by Christa.

PS:  Thank God for
Troy
boys.

PPS: Christa broke her leg when she fell off her horse. Yay! Neig
h

CHAPTER SIX

The whipping incident confirms that my life depends on Diablo being alive. He doesn’t want anyone hurting me. He can violate me, slap me, cut off my clothes with a knife and grab me by the hair, but nobody else can touch me.

  
             
Now that I’m on my feet, I’m expected to join him at the dinner table again. Soon my injuries are forgotten and he’s back to being his old self again - offish in front of his men. Knowing he’s capable of extreme tenderness and that he doesn’t want me hurt, gives me a different perspective on things and I overlook a lot of his bad behaviour. 

             
Concerned about scars on my back, I’m swimming again in the rock pool, hoping the salt water will aid healing. Maybe even reduce the scarring. I swim everyday from
2 to 3 PM
.

             
Maria and Rosa assist by applying some foul smelling potion daily - supposed to help minimize the scars.

There is great excitement at the entrance of the ranch
. M
en scurrying off to the entrance. Even the gardeners are hastily making their way to the front. Maria, Rosa and I follow them to see what the commotion is all about.

             
We
spy
three sexy senoritas, dressed in the shortest of shorts and skimpy halter tops talking to the men. The men stare with mouths open as the Senoritas explain that they are exotic dancers who have lost their way. 

             
‘
Putas
,’ Maria says.

             
Rosa nods.

             
I
s
hake my head at the sight of the men fighting each other to direct the Senoritas. Some of the men offer refreshments and the senoritas accept and walk into the ranch where the men shove each other out of the way to fawn over the ladies. 

             
‘Well, I’m off to the rock
-
pool,’ I say.

             
The ladies wave me off and continue their disparaging remarks about the sexy ladies.                    

             
The water is lovely and as I float on my back in the pool, I think about Christa – she’s left her mark on me for life. I really despise her. She’s evil and she gave birth to evil.

             
Suddenly, to my absolute horror, men, at least fifteen of them,
are
pointing guns at me, shattering the stillness of the day with their screams. ‘FBI! Put your hands up!’ they chorus, moving towards me, flashing badges and guns.

             
American accents!

             
For a moment, I freeze, unable to comprehend any of this. What the hell have I done now?

             
I have a few unpaid parking tickets in
Los Angeles
that I’ve been meaning to take care of.

             
A female agent inches closer weapon in hand. ‘C
’mon
on out, ma’am,’ she coaches. She has a profound Southern accent.

  
             
Relieved that they’re American, I relax a little and reach down to adjust my bikini bottom. They go nuts. ‘Keep your hands were we can see them!’

   
             
Fuck! All I want to do is adjust my bikini so that I don’t walk towards a village full of men with half my ass showing.

  
             
‘Okay! Okay!’ I cry. ‘I’m coming out. Jeez!’

   
             
Terrified, I hold up my hands and wade out of the water, feeling terribly self conscious that I’m so scantily clad in front of so many men. Worse, my scars are so visible - I must look like a red and white zebra from the back. Even worse, I’m swimming topless!

   
             
‘Can I at least get my bra and towel?’

             
I have never had – let’s count – one, two, three ... thirteen
! Thirteen
guns pointing at me before and I’m scared. Whatever crime I committed must have been really heinous if they’re sending
thirteen
FBI agents with amazing larynxes like these after me.

             
The female agent brings me both.

             
‘Thank you,’ I say and drape the towel around me.

  
             
‘What ... what’s this all about?’ I finally ask, squeezing water out of my hair. ‘I’m an American citizen ...’

  
             
One of the men steps forwards and introduces himself. ‘I’m Special Agent Blake Depp,’ he drawls.

             
Depp’s tall, lanky, with sandy coloured hair and cornflower blue eyes. His voice is gentle and apologetic.

             
Maybe they heard about me being taken
prisoner
by Diablo and maybe they’re here to rescue me from him. Hope ignites in me.

             
‘We need to talk to you about Diablo.’

  
             
‘
Ha! Di
ablo
… he
took me ... eh ... like, I didn’t want to come here ...’

             
Depp nods and explains. ‘We’re aware of your situation, Payton.
Your father filled us in.
Diablo, well, he’s facing a number of charges, including murder. Two policemen and intelligence tells us that he’s targeting a third. Not to mention a prominent businessman - Jimmy Gomez – killed him too.’

             
‘Wow! Policemen …’ I shouldn’t be this surprised. 

‘Our biggest problem,’ Depp continues, ‘witnesses to testify against Diablo.
See, one visit from Diablo’s men visits and they vanish like magic.
That’s why we need you to help with his arrest and trial.’

‘
His arrest?
Okay ...’ The thought of Diago being arrested and everyone being free of him appeals to me. ‘Okay …’I’m a little disappointed that they’re not here solely to save my ass. ‘But do you know what would happen if like, Diablo like, finds out that I’m talking to you – the FBI?’ I run my index finger across my neck. ‘Seriously, he will.’

 
             
‘If you do as we say, he won’t find out. We can assure you of that.’

             
‘Really?’ I’m happy to hear he is so confident.
‘So, like, what’s the FBI doing in
Mexico
?’

             
‘When there’s drugs, cop killings, the
US
sends us to help and
Mexico
– let’s say, they’re, that is
Mexico
is grateful.’

             
‘
Ah. So, like, h
ow did you guys
get here without being spotted?
There’s so many of you and …’

             
‘Three decoys – exotic dancers. Saw them?’

             
‘The dancers? Oh the ones …?’

             
He nods. ‘We will find a way to get what we want.’

             
‘Wow.’

             
‘We can meet here,’ Depp says
as he hands me a business card
. ‘It’s a spa, sort of massage parlour. We can talk there without raising suspicion. You know, you’ll be like having a massage meanwhile …’