Chapter 3

Miguel, now thirteen, and I, fifteen, seated in the dark room where our foster father always kept us when we had committed an offense. The air was thick with dust and a scent of damp wood.

He would be back soon.

Miguel shifted beside me. Even in the darkness I could tell he was trembling. His eyes kept wandering to the locked door. I, on the other hand, was angry.

“Miguel, we have to try again” I whispered.

“No” so softly I could barely hear.

“Miguel”

“No, I listened to you, and now we are here. I don’t want to anymore, Manuel, I can’t. And what’s your plan when we finally leave. How will we survive?” he’s crying now.

“The money mama and papa left to us, I still have the documents and bank details contained in the envelope, we don’t need to stay here any longer”

“I am scared, Manuel”

“I know Miguel, but remember what mom said. We are brave and we have each other I would never allow anything happen to you I promise. I need you to trust me and just do what I say, we would try again, please. It would work this time”

“And Ann? Are we going to leave her with this horrid man?” he sniffles. A tear rolling down his cheek.

Ann was our foster mom a sweet soul. Paralyzed to a chair. Had lost her memory a long time ago.

“ she’s not our responsibility Miguel”

Just then, we hear the front door slam shut. We both stiffen.

I brace up. Adrenaline surges through me.

We hear footsteps. Louder, louder.

“Manuel, he’s back. He’s back Manuel” he’s jerking my shirt sleeve.

“Sssh” I straighten myself in front of him.

Jiggling of keys.

The lock turned and the door creaked open.

The light from the corridor illuminating the room. A tall shadow stood over us.

Jack.

I could perceive the strong smell of alcohol.

“Y’all now grown wings eh” .

As he walks towards us he unbuckles his belt and drags it from the loops of his jeans. “ I always known y’all were possessed, ima flog the devil outta you two today”

Miguel, sobbing behind me.

I raised my arms and crossed them. The first lash stung like fire.

I wasn’t going to cry. Never.

Miguel was screaming

“Stop! Stop!”

“Bastard children.” Jack muttered. Mercilessly repeating strokes.

Five days later.

Miguel and I are seated at the back of a truck. The stale air filling our noses. Seated quietly as to not draw attention to ourselves. Our bodies are sore, but it didn’t matter.

Washington DC was ahead and jack was behind us and that was all that mattered.

Present day.

“I must say I am duly impressed, we haven’t seen this kind of sales in a long time, I am quite old and rusty you know. A blessing to have young hands on deck.” He laughs.

I flash a fake smile. I am lost in thought. Glancing from Mr Delmont to his body guard standing behind him staring at me. And then to my surrounding.

Beads of sweat escaping my face. I adjust my tie and reach for a glass of water. I keep checking my phone to see if I have gotten a reply.

Rereading the text.

We know who you are, Mr Donald or should we say Manuel Perez. And we are sure Mr Delmont would most likely be interested as well.

What do you want?. No reply.

“Are you okay Donald, you seem tensed and oddly quiet”.

I snap back to the conversation “Ohh, Mr Delmont” I say trying to sound estatic. “A lot of things to take care of I must say. The launch, the investors, it’s quite a handful.

He narrows his eyes. “A man like you? Overwhelmed I highly doubt that”

I let out a chuckle. Picking up

My glass again, mind racing. “You flatter me, but even I have my limits.”

He leans back, tapping his fingers against the table and watching me “I understand, we’ve got a good thing going on here Donald. It would be a shame if anyone disrupted it”.

Was that a warning? I clear my throat. “If I am to be honest I am not entirely set up for lunch today and I am really happy you are satisfied with our services, if you could excuse me”.

“Ahhh, Donald. You couldn’t even stay a good thirty minutes and have launch and a little chitchat with an old man?” He pats his stomach. “Anyways I understand, reminds me of my youth”

I smile, Disgust building up within me. Being compared to this fat fuck? Unbelievable.

I call for the waiter to hand over the bill.

“Let me handle it” he gestures for his bodyguard.

“Mr..”

He raises a hand. “I insist, let me help in the little way I can” a smile on his face, reaching into his breast pocket.

“Thank you” I say. “See you some other time Delmont” I push back my chair and take composed strides to the exit, hoping I didn’t give anything away.

I hurry to the parkng lot, tension building within me. I keep glancing over my shoulder for anything or anyone. I reach for my phone.

Still no reply.

I open up my call log, my fingers hover over mikes name. Should I tell him? Is that a good idea?

No. I shake my head and place my phone back into my pocket.

Just then I bump into someone, books, papers splattering into the air.