Chapter eleven

Chapter eleven 

Eileen sat quietly in the kitchen, her heartbeat still skipping. She kept staring at the phone, hoping the detective had sent a message, but there was nothing. Mrs. Maya was worried too—so much that she couldn’t sleep. Eileen told her to go get some rest while she finished up the chores. She could tell Mrs. Maya was completely worn out.

Eileen waited for over an hour, but still, no reply came from Detective Alvarez.

She stood in the shower, but her mind was far away. Far back in Canada, in Steve’s gentle arms. Henry’s beautiful laughter echoed in her ears. So many emotions ran through her.

Minutes later, José stepped into the room. She could hear her own heartbeat in her ears. She took quick, steady breaths, trying to calm herself. José reeked of wine and cigarettes—he only drank this much when he was pissed. His smell overpowered the sweet lavender scent of her soap. She saw him drop his gun in the drawer before he started undressing. Holding his big cigar, he stepped into the bathroom naked.

Eileen kept her eyes on the wall. She didn’t want him to see the fear in her eyes or the redness in her face. José stood behind her for a while, watching the water run over her body. He lifted her hair and pressed the burning cigar against her back.

“Ah! It hurts,” Eileen cried out.

“Shh... shh... shh... pain makes us stronger,” he replied.

He held it there until the water quenched the fire. Then he touched the red spot where he had burned her. “Let this scar remind you that you’re mine. You’ll always be mine.” He placed his tongue on the burn, licking the water from her skin.

It had been two months since she returned, and José hadn’t sex-tortured her until now.

José softly touched her nipples. Even though she was hurt and angry, her body still reacted. Tears ran down her cheeks but were washed away by the water. He began fondling her breasts, his hand slipping lower to gently caress her clitoris. She moaned, placing both hands on the wall for support. He kissed and bit her neck lightly. Shivers of disgusted pleasure and water ran down her spine.

She moaned louder, gripping the wall. He dragged her hair, pulling her into a new position—now bent over the bathroom sink. The reflection of herself in the mirror disgusted her. He smacked her twice, hard, on the butt before thrusting into her.

She screamed.

He fucked her roughly, still groping her breasts. Choking her from time to time, digging his fingers deep into her skin. Leaving visible marks on her, marks of ownership.

“After tonight, Josh should be expecting a sibling,” he said with a smirk.

Never. Never. I’m not bringing another innocent child into your shitty world, she thought to herself.

He kept going, hard and long, until she was begging with tears for him to stop. But he didn’t. Not until he was satisfied. That was his pattern—whenever he was angry, he took it out on her body.

José slept for hours that morning. Eileen and Mrs. Maya tried their best to act normal. If José was home, all his men were home too. They tried to stay busy to distract themselves from the fear.

Eileen had already overheard the men outside talking—they had successfully retrieved the shipment. But she needed to hear from Alvarez, to know he was okay. To know she hadn’t given him information that would get him killed.

It wasn’t until evening that José and his men left for Evie’s club, leaving Eileen, Josh, Mrs. Maya, and three other maids in the house. Eileen rushed to the kitchen, Mrs. Maya following closely behind. She pulled out the secret phone, but still, no message from Alvarez.

Restless, she texted him: Hi, tell me you’re okay.

The message didn’t deliver. The number was out of service.

If it wasn’t so dangerous, Eileen would’ve walked to the station herself to look for him.

________________

It had been three weeks since Steve arrived in New York, but he’d made no progress finding Mia. It wasn’t easy tracking someone down in a city of almost nine million people. He posted her picture in every large New York group he could find online.

He never liked big cities like this. He never thought Mia would either. But there were many things about her he didn’t really know.

She told him she grew up in an orphanage called Mother Theresa’s, but he’d looked that up—no such place existed. He began to wonder if anything she told him had ever been true.

Any normal person would’ve given up. But Steve wasn’t normal. He was a man who had loved deeply—and got hurt deeply too.

He drove around the city in his rented car, changing hotels often. Showing pictures of Mia to strangers. He needed to find her before Henry’s third birthday. It would be heartbreaking if Henry celebrated without either of his parents. But if he got lucky and found her, maybe—just maybe—Henry could celebrate it with them both.

He returned to his hotel a little past midnight, exhausted from the day’s driving. After finishing the spaghetti he ordered from room service, he sat on the bed, staring at his laptop wallpaper—his favorite picture of Mia.

She was wearing that red sleeveless gown. It made her look so cute with her baby bump. She had a big smile on her face and her hair was let down—she never liked wearing her hair down, but that day he had convinced her.

Damn it. He really loved this woman.

The tears he had held in for days finally broke free. He poured himself a glass of liquor and downed it in seconds. Then another. Then grabbed the whole bottle, gulping it straight. The burning didn’t bother him.

He stopped abruptly when he heard the laptop ping.

A F******k message.

He opened it and read:

You posted a woman in a group I’m in. I think I’ve seen her a few times, but I’m sorry—I can’t really remember where. Something about her looks different from the photo. Maybe her hair or something... but I’m sure I’ve seen her around.

Steve froze. It felt like a huge weight had lifted off his shoulders. More tears spilled down.

“She’s alive… she’s alive…” he whispered through the tears.

He never allowed himself to believe she was dead. And now—this message brought him hope.

He quickly typed: Thank you for reaching out. Please, where do you stay? I’d love to meet up.

The woman replied: I don’t like meeting strangers, but I’ll text you on my free day.

Steve answered: I’m really grateful. I’ll send you my number—you can call me anytime you see her. Truly, I appreciate this.

That night, Steve slept like a baby. His Mia was alive. And as long as she was alive, there was still hope they could fix this together.

He dreamt of her in that cute red dress, playing with Henry, they were running through a field, laughing. She ran to him and gave him a deep, affectionate kiss. 

This wasn’t just a step for him.

It was a leap.

______________

Thank you guys for reading, please leave your thoughts in the comments.