Page 9 of Game of Revenge

I started going through the pile of clothes. There was one yellow dress with thin straps that was simple and delicately embroidered along the bottom. There was also a set of gray female gym clothes.

I had no idea where Dolores could have found these gems, but I was very thankful for them. I used all the lotion my body craved and put on the gym clothes. They would be handier if I decided—or rather, was presented with the opportunity—to try to escape again. I combed through my wet and now very curly hair and braided it in place. Much better, I concluded as I stood in front of the mirror.

My small figure looked well protected in gym clothes. My face was still bony, but at least it was clean. I stored the rest of the things in the two nightstand drawers and proceeded to make the bed. There were now clean sheets sitting on the mattress. And they were soft, promising me at least some rest—something I hadn’t had in too long.

Thank you, Dolores.

As soon as I was done making the bed, I turned to the plate of food Dolores had left me. It was an amazing quesadilla with a side of rice and beans. I almost swallowed the food whole. It was my first full meal in a week—or at least the first I accepted and devoured. I was enjoying the freshly squeezed orange juice and the very big, cold glass of water.

When I was done, I set the tray down on the floor by the door. Exhaustion was getting the best of me, and I let it. There was no point in thinking right now. I needed all the strength I could muster, to be ready for what was to come—whatever that would be. I got in the bed and fell asleep as soon as my head touched the pillow.

When I woke up the next morning, I felt very rested but . It took me a few minutes to remember the events of the day before. As I got off the bed, I noticed that the plate of food was gone. Someone must have come in to take it.

“Hello? Can someone hear me?” I inquired behind the door.

I heard a key turning in the doorknob, so I took a few steps back. Dolores entered with a smile on her face.

“Sleep well?”

“Yes, thank you so much for everything you brought me yesterday. I really needed a shower!”

“Si! And now you need bathroom again?”

“Yes, please. That would be great.”

Dolores took my hand in hers, just as she did the day before, and guided me to the bathroom. I was thrilled to get to brush my teeth and shower again. I put the gym clothes back on afterward. As I was combing through my freshly washed curls, the bathroom door was violently opened.

A man who was wearing a mask—likely the same man as before—dragged me out by my left arm. He put a bag on my head and forced me to walk.

”Pero porque tanta violencia!?” cried out Dolores, but he was not bothered and continued to walk fast even as I stumbled.

I tried to resist but to no avail. Finally, he opened a door and shoved me inside.

I heard the door close behind me.

I hurriedly took the bag off my head, finding myself standing in a big office with a thick, impressive oak table in the middle with oak cabinets filled with all sorts of books. The wood floor was half covered by a beige rug. The sun was shining through two very large bay windows across the room, and I could see an immense yard, bordered by trees peeking from behind the see-through white linen drapes. There was a table by the window, with a chess board and a record player.

There was a man standing behind the desk closest to the window, staring outside.

He slowly turned around to face me, and I couldn’t help the gasp that escaped me. Facing me was the man who so violently put me into his pickup truck and drove me to this unknown location. He continued to just stare at me, not saying a word, as I could feel the water from my wet hair roll down my neck and back.

I wanted to either scream at him or turn around and try to run away, but I restrained myself and held his gaze with a stoic face instead.

“I hope you find your new accommodations pleasing,” he said with a faint smile on his face. I wondered if that was mockery or if he was just a psychopath. Authority seemed to emanate from his every pore.

“Well,” I retorted with a hard swallow, “it was quite a low bar, considering I had rats as cellmates before.”

“My apologies for that,” he said with a slight bend of his head.

When our eyes met, I could have sworn I saw a flicker of amusement flash in his eyes, an eyebrow raised.

He continued to stare at me as he slowly walked toward his desk. He stopped by the corner and leaned his back against it for support, his arms crossed, never taking his eyes off me. His stance seemed like an intimidation technique.

And it was working.

He was wearing a pair of black jeans and a blue shirt with the first two buttons open. I noticed how tall he was again, his shirt tracing his muscles, letting everyone know he was a man to be feared. His tan skin indicated that he spent a lot of time outside in the sun. I got even more irritated as he just stood there, in all his glory, legs opened wide, looking like he owned the world.

I took a deep breath between clenched teeth.