One (34 page)

"Does it hurt?" I ask.
She shakes her head, her smile widening. "I want the pain to
stop," I confess.

"We're sewing her
up now. She's under heavy anesthesia and shouldn't feel a thing."

Silence.

"Shit, these
American girls bleed so damn much…"

Laughter. "It's
all the food in their country,
amigo!
American pigs," he
spits.

I'm coming together,
like colored pieces of a mosaic.

Then something loud
pierces the air, shattering the quiet.

A man cusses. "They're
close. Fucking
policia
!"

"Work faster."

I'm being pulled
tighter, harder. I can't move.

"They are here for
her."

"What's the
difference between this bitch and the others? We should kill her now
and be done with it." The voice is angry and hard. I hear
sounds.

Then the pain explodes
inside me.

I break again.

She looks empathetic
at my pain. Her eyes dart to my midsection. The compassion is
fleeting, and lasts for only a moment. Then a determined look crosses
her face, the kind that used to scare me. It makes her eyes hard and
angry.

"Go back."

"No."

"There is
nothing for you here." She gestures around her. "Nothing
but fields and blue skies…"

"That doesn't
sound too bad."

Her eyes narrow.
"You've never wanted it. It's not who you're meant to be."

"I'm meant to
be with you," I plead, trying to make her understand.

"No," the
word is forceful. Her eyes get stormy. "You're meant to be with
someone else."

Those words hurt.
They remind me of him. I see his face in my mind's eye. I shake my
head, but my actions are slow, uncertain.

Jules!

I hear his voice in the sky.

"What the fuck are
we supposed to do with her? They're smoking us out!"

"Gonzales said we
must stay with her. We need her!"

My head hits something
hard. I whimper.

"She's fucking
bleeding all over me. You didn't sew her tight enough!"

I feel something
squeeze the breath out of me. I can't breathe. A struggling, guttural
moan breaks from my lips. Then I hear blasts of sounds.

Gun shots.

"I'm not dying for
this bitch!"

"You'll die if you
don't have her when we meet Gonzales at the check point!"

"Fuck that. He
can't survive that shit they threw at us. No one can! It's each man
for himself!"

Another blast.

"Fuck!"

"What should we
do?"

"Leave her. Let
her burn like the rest of them."

Pain.

"Let's get out of
here!"

I'm falling.

Falling.

She won't catch me.

I see it in her
eyes. I feel pain everywhere.

"Go back,"
she repeats.

I'm stubborn. "No."

Jules!
His voice is thunder clapping in the sky. I feel it inside my bones.

"Go back,"
her voice echoes around me; it swirls like a cloak, coming through my
skin and into my head. I don't have a chance to refuse because
suddenly she's gone.

"Grandma?"
I start to panic. "Grandma?"

My feet are inches
from the ground as I float above, desperately searching for her. I
can't let myself feel the warm grass otherwise I'll be pulled in and
unable to fly. I shout her name until my throat is hoarse.

All the while I
ignore
his
voice. I
remember him kissing another woman. I won't give in.

I move until I can't
move anymore. Hours pass, days even. Finally, when I'm seconds from
falling into the earth I hear her voice. It mixes with his voice. "Go
back." Both their voices echo, wrapping me in warmth. There is
nothing here for me. I need to return.

I go.

I am a survivor.

I come back to life.

Everything is a low hum
at first. It's as if I've heard something deafening and only now are
the sounds slowly returning, faint and dim. I register several things
at once. I hear a beep, low and steady. The sound repeats every few
seconds, slowly becoming louder with each passing moment. I hear the
faint whisper of cloth rustling. If I strain my ears I can make out
footsteps, hard and heavy. The more I focus, the more I can designate
other sounds- low murmurs, someone weeping, sighs.

My body feels heavy
like my whole body has been transformed into a rock. I think if I
push hard enough I might be able to get enough momentum to roll over.
I decide to try it, focusing on my energy on moving my body. I will
my body to cooperate, mentally pushing one side to lift up.
Instantly, sharp pain stabs inside my head and I let out a breath of
frustration.

"Jules?" The
voice is hoarse. I recognize it.
Pax
.

The first emotion I
feel is joy- pure, unadulterated joy.
He's here.
We're
together again. The second emotion I feel is fear. Gonzales will find
him; or worse, Pax has already been taken. Then I feel panic.
Whimpers burst from my throat.
Run,
I want to shout.
Get
away!

Something warm and
heavy touches me. The touch is calming, but only for a second. The
touch opens a floodgate of memories. I relive every moment from the
Hearts of Love fundraiser until now. I remember Pax's betrayal. I
remember how I refused to forgive him. I remember how Braidon took
me. I recall the feel of his strong body overpowering mine. I
remember Gonzales's words.

Meat.
You
.

I want to run. We
need
to run.

"Pax," I
croak out, barely a whisper. "Go… now."

He palms my forehead.
"Shh."

I try to lift my hands.
No
. "Go," I struggle. "Leave."

He kisses my mouth. His
wet lips are a balm for my cracked lips. "You're safe, baby."
He kisses my cheek. "You're safe."

This is a dream. It
must be. I need to wake up. I need to run. I make another effort to
move. I grunt, finally able to shift my hands.

"Go slow,"
Pax cautions me. "You're pretty banged up."

"Where are we?"
I whisper.

"At the hospital."

My eyes snap open. His
face is above me, inches from my own. There are dark circles
underneath his eyes and black stubbles covers his chin and the top of
his mouth. One side of his hair stands up, messy as if he's just
woken up. There's a cut across his cheek. I blink, abruptly realizing
that the dark circles under his eyes are
bruises
and they're
the size of half dollars.

"Pax," I
whisper in alarm. "What
happened
to you?"

"A couple guys
punched me in the eyes." His lips are set in a grim line. "But
don't worry, I got them back good. Real good." He sounds dark
and violent and I feel a fierce urge to take it away.

"Are you okay?"

He looks pained at my
question. I raise trembling fingers to touch his face. He clutches my
hand, keeping them on him. "Of course," he answers gruffly.
"Don't worry about me. You-" he swallows hard, "you
shouldn't worry about anyone but yourself right now."

"Why? Do I look as
bad as you?" I attempt to joke, concerned when he winces. Is
Gonzales listening to this? Why is he letting us talk? I beckon Pax
closer until his ear is right next to my mouth.

"Where is
Gonzales?" I whisper.

Pax stiffens, and when
he pulls back I see storms in his eyes- angry, violent storms.
"Dead."

I shake my head, unable
to believe it. My heart starts to accelerate. I can't tell if it's
from fear or from hope. "Are you sure?" I breathe. He nods.
I shake my head in disbelief. Gonzales has been a figure on the edge
of my subconscious for so many years that it's impossible he's gone.
Heroes die. Monsters don't.

"We need to go,"
my panic coming back in full. "He doesn't die. He'll get us.
He'll-"

Pax puts a finger to my
lips. "He's human, Jules. He bleeds. He cries." His voice
hardens. "He dies."

"Ghosts don't
die."

"That particular
ghost does." I feel him tremble with rage. "I made sure to
watch him." Pax's gaze bores into mine. "I watched his skin
melt like candy. I watched his blood burn. I watched his body turn
into ash and settle deep into the earth. I pray it falls deeper. I
pray he goes straight to Hell."

My eyes travel down and
I finally notice he isn't wearing a shirt. There are bandages
covering parts of his chest, his arms. I start to cry. Pax gathers me
in his arms, his fingers in my hair, his mouth on my face. My body
shakes, and even though it hurts to cry so hard, I can't stop. I feel
relieved, but mostly I feel anger- anger that I put him in danger,
anger that I couldn't be the one to destroy this monster, anguish
that revenge doesn't stop the burn- it only makes the blaze hotter.

"It'll be okay,"
Pax says. He tells me he loves me. He whispers it into my hair, on my
face, beside my ears, and on my neck. He clutches me tightly as if
he'll never let me go. I hug him just as hard back.

We're not two people
anymore.

We're one.

"The agents are
ready for you now, Ms. Hendricks."

I nod, brushing my hair
back. Pax squeezes my hand gently, giving me a small smile of
encouragement. We're at the police station in Minnesota. I want to
leave this state and never return, but I want to resolve my past. I
won't let it haunt me anymore.

I walk into a small
room. There are mirrors surrounding us, and I wonder if it's glass so
other people can watch us. Two females in business suits sit at a
small table, smiling at me when I enter. They try to look friendly
and approachable, but their eyes are hard and give them away. I nod
at them, sliding into the chair they offer me.

"Good morning, Ms.
Hendricks," the taller one with brown hair greets. "I'm
Agent Caldwell. I understand you've just been released from the
hospital yesterday, and I know you must be very tired. We appreciate
you meeting us this morning."

"It's no problem."

"This is Agent
Ames," she gestures to a blonde woman with small brown eyes.
"She and I will be conducting your interview today." You
interview for a job. You don't interview about a criminal dying. Even
though Bill and Pax have assured me I won't be arrested for the
choices I've made, I'm reluctant to trust the women in front of me.

"You look better
this morning," Agent Ames offers, trying to make me comfortable.
It's like a lion trying to comfort a baby deer.

"They pumped some
blood into me yesterday," I inform them.

"Yes, you were
hurt."

"Tortured is
probably the better word." Both seem a little taken back by my
candidness. Their sharp eyes are a reflection of my own.

"We're sorry to
hear that we didn't get to you in time," Agent Caldwell says
with compassion in her voice.

I shrug. "It
happens." Pause. "I only lost one kidney. It could've been
worse." I could have ended up some sick bastard's dinner.

"I understand you
spoke with Mr. Gonzales for a time," Agent Caldwell continues,
her fingers clasped in front of her. "Can you tell us how you
got to him?"

I nod. I take a deep
breath, closing my eyes. I begin with the night Braidon attempted to
run us off the road. They nod when I say his name. It's obvious they
know who he is. They've already talked to Pax. "I'm not sure how
he did it, but he found me."

"That family has
many criminal connections."

I don't doubt it.
"Where is he?"

"Arrested, along
with his uncle."

"Good." My
eyes blaze. They belong in jail.

"How did Braidon
get you?"

"He easily
overpowered me," I answer with ice in my eyes. "He drugged
me with a cloth. It had something on it. I blacked out and woke up
tied to something in a house." I described my feeble attempts to
escape, and finally how I became desperate enough to convince Jose to
take me to Gonzales.

"Why would you
want to go to him?" Agent Caldwell asks, genuine confusion in
her eyes.

"It's the only
place that Pax and Bill know about," I answer. "I thought
that if I didn't return, Alex and Nat would be suspicious. They'd
alert Bill. He and Pax would find me. I just had to survive long
enough for them to come to me." I close my eyes, stiffening,
remembering how I was tortured.

"Don't think about
that," Agent Caldwell says gently. "Tell me what happened
when you were with Braidon."

I breathe deeply,
pushing the memory away. "He wanted to take me to Mexico,"
I inform them. "I was desperate. Gonzales was a slim chance, but
it was the only one I had." The hard chair underneath me hurts
my body. I sit straighter. "Jose drugged Braidon because he knew
Braidon wouldn't allow me to leave. Then he drugged me, and when I
woke up, I was chained to a metal bed with Gonzlaes in front of me."
The venom is thick in my words. He's dead, but the anger and hatred I
feel toward him is raw and fresh. Maybe with time it will lessen.

Maybe it won't.

I describe what
Gonzales told me, how he confessed to the drugs and to selling human
body parts on the black market.

"I was in a cold
room. It's where they did the surgeries. They kept it cold for the
organs," I say, shuddering despite my efforts not to.

I see both agents eye
my abdomen. "Gonzales had a surgeon come in after he talked with
me. He wanted the surgery done right away," I answer the
unspoken question.

"Do you remember
any of it?"

I nod. "Yes.
Gonzales refused to put me under. He said he wanted the other people
to hear my screams." Agent Ames flinches. I look directly at
her. "How many victims did you find?" How many survived?