Heroine Hearts Page 19
“You be okay here while I clean up?” I inquire, hoping she’s settled.
“Yeah, go,” she replies, giving me a smile. “I’m going to sleep.”
She lies down, curling up on her side and closes her eyes. I have no idea what this could mean for her recovery, but I’m not prepared to run away just yet.
It’s hours later after we’ve eaten that I leave her on the bed, moving into the bathroom to wash my hands and start a shower. I turn the water, letting it warm up as I start to strip down out of my clothes. I know a shower will help refresh me and liven up my muscles, but I worry about leaving Isla alone. I hear the door open and freeze, not yet under the water’s rays. I hesitate, hoping it’s Hector. If it is I’ll continue with a quick shower, but if not, then I’m not leaving my girl.
“Hey Eighteen,” I hear Santiago’s voice. This causes me to step away from the shower, grabbing a towel and wrapping around myself. “Just wanted to see how the detox was going,” my blood boils at his ruthless jab at her. “Although, can’t imagine how easy it is for you, so I thought I would come by and see if you wanted a little hit. Something you can hide,” he sniggers, causing my rage to become vehement. “If I were you, I’d rub it in your gums while he sleeps. It’ll be like you never did it.”
“I don’t want that,” Isla argues and while I’m proud of her, I can hear the struggle.
“Are you sure?” Santiago persists. “I mean, Javier isn’t here right now. By the sounds of it, he’s in the shower so you have some time alone,” there’s a moment of silence then another snigger. “You could be a little more thankful that I chose my timing so well.”
He thinks I must be stupid. Like fuck would I allow him the chance to destroy the progress she’s making. She’s far from saved, but she’s willing to try to seek for salvation to get there one day.
“I’m not,” she grounds out, hardening her tone. “I don’t want that!”
Good girl, Isla.
I move silently so I can peer through the doorway of the bathroom, silent and watchful. Isla looks like an animal caught in the headlights – bright-eyed, bewildered and terrified. Her eyes flick around the room, struggling to look anywhere but at the bag in Santiago’s hand.
“Leave,” Isla’s response bites the air.
I struggle to keep calm, not wanting to make a public display. I want to give her the benefit of the doubt, see how strong she’s being, especially after her earlier show.
“I don’t want it,” she replies, even though I see the struggle she has to resist. “I don’t need it.”
“That’s a lie,” Santiago states, glee taking him over. “And you know it, puta.”
He lifts his hand, grazing his knuckles against her cheek, his fingers carrying the bag with it so that too brushes her skin. He smirks, watching her close her eyes and draw in staccato breaths as she strives for resistance.
Isla’s hand come up to his chest, pushing him way just like how she did with me once. Santiago staggers backward, stumbling his way.
“I don’t want them!” Isla bites; this time, her voice yelling. “I never wanted them!”
“But look how relaxed and willing you were with them,” he tries, testing her. “You were never more carefree.”
“I said no,” she states, her voice breaking some. “I don’t want them.”
I step into the doorway, watching as he holds a bag of heroin up to her. He’s offering it up so easily to her and she’s struggling to keep up a resistance.
“You don’t sound so convincing,” he says, stepping toward her. “Now, sweet Eighteen, take the drug and satisfy us both.”
I watch as her mouth parts and her head moves so she can look up at the bag. I know all the thoughts in her head, know she’s finding every good reason to take the bait.
“I suggest you leave now,” I say, stepping out of the room. Isla immediately backs away. “Before I fucking throw you out.”
“Ah, the hero,” Santiago sneers, his eyes narrowing. “You’re trying to make a warrior out of weak foundations. It won’t last.”
“I didn’t ask for your opinion,” I utter, asserting a dangerous tone. “Now, I suggest you leave the room and let Isla continue on with her recovery like your father wished.”
“Recovery?” Santiago sneers, chortling. “You’re hilarious, Santos! She’s not in recovery. She’s taking a fucking hiatus from this life. The moment she’s out of this room and away from you, she’s anyone’s and everyone’s. Keep that in mind,” he assures, looking so confident in the matter. “When she’s out of here, she’s fair play, including for me and I can use her as I so please... drugs included.”
I would do anything to wipe that smug smirk off his face right now. He speaks like he’s won this game, that there is no do-over, no second chances, but a thought enters my head. One way that will guarantee he’ll see he’s not a winner here.
“Show him,” I say, my tone gravely becoming lower than ever.
“Javier,” she whispers, clearly uncomfortable but knowing what I mean.
“Show him what his actions made you do,” I order her meekly, willing her to be honest. “He deserves to see.”
Santiago places the heroin back in his pocket and starts to rub his hands together. I know he’s happier than ever when she starts to push the band of her sweatpants away from her hip, pushing the material down her hip and revealing her panties and the large gauze I’d strapped over the wound. Peeling away one of the edges, she reveals angry, red gouges, some deep, some across the surface of her skin. No longer does the El Salvador emblem stand clear and embedded into her skin and Santiago’s name is a mess of cuts and ripped skin.
Gasping, Santiago looks at Isla and then straight at me with an accusatory gaze.
“What the fuck did you do to her?” Santiago asks, accusing me.
“Me?” I gape at him. “That was all her because of what you did to her! The girl hates you so fucking much she mutilated herself more than you ever could!”
“I’ll kill you for letting her do that!” Santiago bellows, his face reddening with his newfound anger.
“You really want to do this here?” I ask him, cocking a brow. “Best believe I’d willingly take you on butt-fucking-naked just to show you that not every man cowers to you!”
“She’ll be your downfall!” Santiago declares, pointing at Isla as she covers the raw wound up. “You’re so invested in her and what she’s doing you’re not taking notice of the bigger picture, of the people who will stand beside you long after she’s gone!” Santiago lets out an incredulous laughter. “You’re trying to save a lost cause, Santos! That bitch lasted longer than most, but that don’t mean we’ll be keeping her. Her time here will start to come to an end and you’ll be made to watch her die. Life doesn’t revolve around these girls, so stop this fucking shit and sort it all out!”
“No one is a lost cause in this life,” I state, my voice holding steady. “Now, leave. I’m following through on your father’s orders. Guess he doesn’t know you’re here trying to feed her heroin.”
For a split second, I take a chance to catch a look at Isla. She stands looking shaken, her eyes looking at Santiago like he holds all the answers, but really I know she’s thinking about the packet in his pocket. She’s thinking of what it’ll do for her, but she needs to remember the harm it’ll do.
“He doesn’t know anything,” Santiago replies, his smile not quite so bright. “He’s growing a heart. Bastard never had one until you came along. I don’t get it.”
“It’ll make him a far stronger man,” I counter, going toward him. “Now, leave. You’re doing more harm than good,” I usher him from the room, not allowing him another word. I close the door, locking it with the key I have and place it back in my pocket. “You okay?” I ask turning back to face Isla.
She stands white as a sheet, her hands hanging limply at her side, her eyes staring off at absolutely nothing, the life hard to find in them.
“I wouldn’t have said no if yo
u weren’t there,” she admits, her eyes dropping some before she looks at me. “I would’ve taken that.”
“But you didn’t,” I affirm, approaching her. “You said no, even before I was out here. I heard you.”
Her eyes look at me with shock, her eyebrows shoot up.
“But for one second, Javier, for one split second I wondered if I could take them and let him leave. I thought about pretending to sleep so I could wait for you to sleep so I could take a hit,” her eyes look at me, fitfully racing to take in my entire face like she’s trying gauge my emotion. “I don’t want to think like that. Please believe me.”
“I do... you said no,” I repeat, as if repeating the litany will have an effect soon.
“But if you hadn’t been here, though...” she trails off, her voice becoming small.
I do nothing but capture her face in the gentle frame of my hands.
“Then I’m glad I’m here.”
“Can we go outside?”
I feel so pathetic asking if we can leave this room, but I’m starting to go insane. Cabin fever set in as the side effects of trying to get clean started to wane. Three days in and I feel like my sanity is returning. I still feel restless at night when there aren’t any distractions to pull me from those deeper thoughts that recede in the presence of others, but in general, I feel stronger, better even.
I know I’m not cured. I’m far from that and I’ll have to deal with the yearnings and urges for a long time yet, but this is the beginning.
“No,” he states, not even looking up from the book he has.
“Why not?” I ask, my lips assuming a pout. “I just want some air.”
“Then open a window,” he replies, waving over to the window to our right.
“Javier,” I exhale, my tone exasperated. “I’m bored in here.”
“That’s a good sign,” he comments, shutting the book down and twisting around to me. “When your mind’s completely numb to this life, then we’ll see.”
“My mind is completely numb,” I deadpan. My eyebrows furrow with how unimpressed I am. “I’m going insane in here.”
“I don’t care,” he responds, a blasé note hits every syllable he speaks while he fixes me with a blank look. “Right now, you’re at the make it or break it stage in this recovery and I’m not going to risk you falling back,” there’s a brief moment, him waiting for me to explode, but then he adds, “You’ll thank me later.”
“Will I?” I ask, petulantly crossing my arms over my chest. “Because, right now, I hate you.”
“No you don’t,” he says, a smug little grin turning the corners of his lips up. “You’re just grumpy and I’ll allow it.”
“You’ll allow it?” I ask, sitting up, unfolding my arms in the process. “We have been in here for what feels like decades and no one will be up anymore any-way. It’s dark, we can go out and come back in.”
“Not running the risk,” he tells me, shifting so he’s sitting with his back against the footboard of the bed. “So pick another activity. I’m game for anything that keeps us in here.”
I toy with the idea knowing full well he’s staring at me. We’ve exerted everything so far when I’ve not been so wrapped up in myself. It’s why I wanted to go outside, to give Javier some semblance of a life because right now, I feel like I’m smothering him. He’s been too good to me, too caring and I know it must be hard for him.
“Twenty-one questions,” I state dryly. “If I can’t go out or fall asleep, we’ll play twenty-one questions.”
“Wouldn’t you rather try to sleep?”
“Do I look like I’d rather try to sleep right now?” I quip, cocking a brow.
In actuality, I just want to know everything about Javier Santos – his likes, his dislikes, his every sordid secret if I can have them. I want to share everything with him just so I can have that idea of closeness again. He’s already filled so many voids in me, but my need for him grows with every second I spend with him.
Going outside would give me time to recalibrate, remind myself that my heart is a fruitless player in this life.
I fell for him when I shouldn’t, but how could I not fall in love with my own hero?
My head, now back in the game, has come back louder than ever trying to drown out my heart. I fell in love with a man who stuck by me at the height of this addiction. He held me when I needed strength, cradled me when I needed soothing and fixed me when I was broken. He’s still mending me, piece by delicate piece, keeping me a sole focus and I can’t help the way I feel for him. All of the things I felt that first time in the bathroom are magnified, suffocating me and willing me to embrace the impossible.
Everything has changed in the last few days. My entire outlook in this place has morphed and changed and become something I never thought I would think about again. But this feeling isn’t real, it’s created by need and greed and all unimaginable urges.
It can’t be real. I don’t dare to dream that it is.
This place doesn’t allow forever states, so this isn’t real.
“No,” he replies, grinning as he pulls me back to reality. “Okay, where do you want to begin?”
“Family...” I name the topic, giving him a wicked little grin. “Do they know you’re here?”
“Nope... no one to tell,” he tells me, offering a small shrug. “It was just Gabi and me for a long time, we had no other family we really needed. No parents, no grandparents, no aunts or uncles. No estranged cousins. Just the two of us,” he offers a sad smile as he realizes how alone he is. “It’s why this was all too easy for me,” he doesn’t wallow for too long. “Didn’t Gabi tell you about this?” he asks, furrowing his eyebrows.
“One question gone,” I muse, offering a little playfulness. “But no, not really... she told me how your parents died when she was little and she how her brother looked after her, but she never went further than that. I guess it was too painful for her.”
“What about you? Any siblings?”
“I have two older brothers,” I start, a small smile full of content at the memories that come forward. “Cooper would be thirty and Lucas would be twenty-seven now,” I comment, no need to think of the maths. “Every year since I was taken, I kind of would celebrate their birthdays. Stupid isn’t it?”
“No,” he replies sweetly.
“It feels it,” I admonish, crinkling my nose at how embarrassed I feel. “For all I know, they think I’m six feet under somewhere. They had every right to continue life, but a part of me would hate them if they did,” it’s then a thought pops into my mind and while it breaks my heart, I wouldn’t have denied it. “But I can’t stop them and I won’t ever know. Hell, Cooper must be married now,” a hint of sadness hits my tone and I can’t stop it. “I’m sure he would’ve still got married even with me gone.”
“Why?” Javier asks, giving a slight head shake as he appears confused. “I couldn’t have gotten married with Gabi still missing. My life fell apart as it was.”
“His fiancée isn’t the most understanding woman,” I inform him, grimacing as I remember Rebecca. “She was fixated on a date and I’m sure she wouldn’t have skipped that, especially for me. While Cooper loved me, she didn’t.”
“I find that incredibly hard to believe,” he tells me in a soft murmur. “You’re hard not to love...and I would know.”
I feel a blush heat my cheeks and I know with my still pale complexion I must look like a tomato – horrendously bright red. However, he continues to look at me with total adoration.
“What are they like?”
“Isn’t it my turn?” I ask, cocking my brow at him once more.
“Not anymore, you just asked if it was your turn...” he trails off, playfulness starting to lighten him up. “What are they like?” He reiterates.
“Protective,” I murmur, sarcasm heating me. “They hated it when I said I wanted to move into the dorms at college,” I laugh, remembering the arguments we had. “I always vowed I would never get caught up
in the drugs and the drinks and the sleeping around, and I didn’t,” I give him a bashful smile, knowing that a girl entering college should want to be wild. “I waited to meet a guy I felt something for, I kept my drinking to a minimum and I never touched a single drug at any party. I was a good girl. T-total...” I pause, gulping at the caustic taste forming in my mouth. “Until I got brought here.”
“Can we forget the game here?” he asks, cutting in with such seriousness. “I have to know.”
“Know what?” I ask, feeling my face stiffen with perplexity.
“How did you end up here?”
The question catches me off guard.
That day will haunt me until my final breath – I fell for the beauty of Santiago. It’s the one factor he can use to lure any girl in – he’s a good looking guy and he knows it. He got me hook, line, and sinker by just giving me a little attention, a moment of pure flirtation and a cheeky grin.
I was at his feet and then I was here.
“He drugged my drink,” I say, coughing to clear my front. I met Javier’s gaze, telling myself to remain looking. “Santiago that is. He was at one of the clubs I was in one night. He started to dance with me, said all the right things, made all the right moves. Then it kinda got blurry,” I trail off, my breathing slows. “He slipped a roofie in my drink, and the next thing I knew, I was waking up in a room with a bag over my head and my hands tied behind my back.” I start to rub my jaw, remembering how the teeth of that rope bit into my wrists, rubbing them raw before they were untied. “I can still remember how my jaw ached from the gag in my mouth. They made us completely powerless before we were thrown before the boss.”
“What about my sister?”
My mouth dries and I gulp hard. I know I could play the game here, but we are so far from resuming a casual game of twenty-one questions and I know he needs to know everything. He needs the closure.
“Gabi’s was more complicated,” I start, remembering how she cried night after night when we first got here. It was her tears that brought us together. I comforted her when no one else would. “She thought she was in love.”