Their Broken Pieces by Jessica Gomez
Chapter Fifty-Two
Jasmine
The smell of dry dirt rousts me back to consciousness. Miraculously, I’m able to keep my eyes closed and not give my waking self away. My wrists are sore; bound behind my back. My prison is a chair. How clever. My head is lolled to the side and propped up by whatever headrest is on the back. Each leg is tied by the ankle to a chair leg, making it impossible for me to move without them noticing. My body aches. What happened to me while they knocked out me? Then I remember the fight with Margret, and how the injuries are going to hinder any escape I try to make; I’m going to be useless against Mario and whatever cronies he has with him. What are they going to do to me? What have they already done?
The thought sends cold shock waves through my body as I mentally scan my private areas, assessing if they’ve stayed private. If I would have waited a few more seconds before taking my bra off, I’d still have it on.
I hear voices and freeze. For a moment, I stop breathing but realize that would give me away, so I let it out slowly. Most of the conversation is in Spanish, so I cannot understand their words. I really needed to learn how to speak Spanish! Shortly after the conversation begins, someone switches to English. I’m glad to hear someone speaking English, so I can understand what’s going on and how I’m going to get out of this situation.
The first thing I hear, I want to forget. “So when do we get to play with her?” Mr. English says.
“Chill out Curtis. I have special plans for this one.” Mario’s voice seems like a haunted dream, ominous. He trails his finger down my cheek and neck, his nail purposely biting into my skin where Margret left her claw marks behind.
It’s enough to make me flinch. I know I’m busted when someone else says, “I think she’s waking up.” I wonder how many people are actually in the room with Mario.
“Jasmine.” Mario chimes, trying to entice me to wake. “Jasmine, it’s time to wake up.” He says in his best singsong voice.
When I still refuse to open my eyes, a fist connects with my jaw. Searing pain shoots through me, and my lip is throbbing in time with the beat of my heart. My tongue is bathing in liquid iron. Not even Margret hit me this hard.
His plan works as I open my eyes. It takes me a minute to focus on anything. Faces are a blur, as if I’m drunk. I can only see a couple of feet in front of me.
“There she is,” Mario sings in that annoyingly, trying to be kind. voice. “Mamacita…” He lets the word hang in the air, like something spoken in a graveyard. He moves to my side and rubs his thumb over the side of my face where he struck me. “I see why Alex wants you so badly. You are beautiful, even with a black eye and scratches messing up your face. Alex finally tire of you?”
I turn my face away, disengaging his touch. “I’m not with Alex anymore. He dumped me in Hawaii.” Maybe that knowledge will help with getting me out of here.
Mario laughs. “That’s his MO, mamacita, but I’ve seen the way he looks at you; he would do anything to protect you. He will come for you.”
“Don’t get your hopes up,” I mumble.
The comment earns me a slap to the face this time.
“Do not back sass me, puta.”
If Margret were the perfect mom, I wouldn’t know what it felt like to have the bejesus smacked out of me. However, we all know how wonderful she is, so this beating that Mario is putting me through falls close to the one I just took the other night, although his punch is much stronger than Margret’s.
Instead of shutting up, I say, “What makes you think he’ll come for me? He doesn’t even know where we are, am I right?” I have no idea where we are, but maybe Mario is dumb enough to say it. Escaping will be easier if I know our location.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” He teases. He’s apparently smarter than he looks. “Alex will come for you, don’t you worry.”
This is his plan, to ambush Alex when he comes for me… a setup. No matter what happens, I could never let them hurt him. I’ll refuse to help him.
“I won’t help you,” I say boldly, proud of myself for the even tone that leaves my lips, while inside I’m scared as hell.
“Oh, you’ll help me, even if I have to beat you to do it.” He steps closer and when I don’t flinch, he realizes I mean what I say.
He turns away and says something in Spanish to his group. I can see them now; three Mexicans and one white guy. Two of the guys Mario speaks to leave the small room.
For the first time, I look around, taking in my surroundings. My prison is a small room, a shed maybe. The walls are made of wood, while the floor is dirty gray cement, and holds only the chair I’m sitting on. At some point, other objects littered the floor. I can see marks on the ground where they drug them out the door. They emptied this place just for me. How sweet.
Where were we? It has to be someplace people remote. My mind raced with the possibilities. Years seem to pass before the two return, and one of them hands Mario a pair of small objects and says something in Spanish. After this, I swear I’m going to learn Spanish, if I survive. It seems like I would benefit from it tremendously.
“All right,” Mario walks back over. He seems excited. On the one hand, he has a cell phone; on the other, he has a pair of dice. “Now, we call Alex.” He dials a number and hits speaker. The phone shrills in the empty room, screaming over the silence. On the third ring, I hear a scuffle and then breathing before someone speaks.
“Sí” It’s Alex. My heart drops to my stomach.
“Alex,” Mario says, his voice slithering like a snake.
“Where’s Jasmine? You…” I’m assuming he cussed Mario out with every word he knows in Spanish. I could only understand a handful of the verbal assaults thrown around, and Mario’s only response is to laugh.
“Where is she?” Alex is more pissed than I’ve ever heard him before.
“Admit it first,” Mario says calmly.
“Admit what?” Alex spits through the phone.
“Admit how you feel about her first… and don’t lie. I’ll know if you’re lying.”
There’s silence on the other end. Did he hang up? My stomach is in knots, my heart in my throat.
“I love her.” His words fill me with warmth.
“Aw. How sweet. Did you hear that Jasmine, he loves you.” I stay quiet, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of talking.
“Jasmine!” Alex yells through the phone.
“Now, now Alex, you’ll have time to talk to her.” He pauses. “I’ll tell you where we are and you can come and save your little lover. I hope you can get here fast enough. We’re about to roll the dice on her.”
Mario’s words elicit more yelling from Alex, which causes Mario to laugh harder. I can hear Carlos in the background, but can’t make out his words.
Alex stops, his voice broken. “Please… just tell me where she is.” He pleads.
Mario’s face looks pleased with Alex’s begging. “Listen up, Alex.” I think he’s going to say something, but he rolls the dice on the hard cement floor and holds the phone close so Alex can hear. “Oh, lucky seven. It could have been worse.”
“If you touch her, I swear to God I’ll kill you,” Alex growls. I don’t understand what the dice have to do with anything.
“You’d better get here fast, then. We’re in the shed behind the school.”
Mario’s still smiling. The satisfaction on his face repulses me; things are going the way he wants them to, so I scream, “Alex, don’t you dare come here! It’s a trap! Don’t you even consider it, do you hear me?”
Mario closes the small distance between us, stalking me like a bull, and slaps me with the back of his hand. His knuckles dig into my cheekbone, sending the chair and me toppling over and slamming against the floor. Some sort of screeching comes from my lips, my arm smashing between the metal of the chair and the cement floor. Searing pain shoots through my entire arm, enough to have me wondering if it’s broken. The impact knocks the wind from my lungs as I attempt to gasp, suffocating.
“¡Cállate, puta!” Mario’s face is a mask of insane horror. He’ll do anything to persuade Alex to come. He closes the phone after his earth-shattering backhand and laughs hysterically. The only thing reading in his crazy eyes is revenge, and this is how he is going to get it.
“So…” He begins, “Do you know how we initiate females into our gang, mi amour?” I refuse to cry, refuse to let him see how scared I truly am. He tips my chair up, sitting me straight in my seat. My head is spinning and pounding so hard, I think it’s going to split open any moment. Crack like a pumpkin after Halloween.
“Well, let’s not spoil the surprise. You heard me tell Alex you rolled a seven, though, and that’s better than it could have been for you. The only problem is, I only have five guys, including myself tonight, so that means a couple of us are going to get seconds.” He slides a finger down my cheek and under my chin, as if he’s being seductive. “Victor!”
“Sí” I hear in the background.
“Go get the rest of the guys. We’re going to pull a train.”
Victor smiles, letting me know this “train” is not something I’m going to like, or want.
Once everyone’s inside, the electricity in the air increases with their excitement. All the guys around me are hyped, ready for something that I think I finally understand. Oh, hell no! This cannot happen. Oh my God, they can’t do this to me. I can’t let them do this. I have to fight with every ounce of strength I have left.
“We’re going to need to retie her legs, like this.”
Mario demonstrates by taking one of my legs and cutting the duct tape. Immediately I kick out, catching him in the thigh, knocking him back a few paces. No words leave his mouth as he regains his balance and slaps me in the face again. Stars fly in my vision as my head lops to the side. I’m seconds away from passing out. At this point, I’m thinking it might be better if I’m unconscious for this next part.
He wraps my foot slightly behind my chair, causing my leg to spread out wider, and tapes me down again. Another member does the same to the other leg while I’m partially incapacitated from Mario’s hit. My legs are spread apart as far as they’ll go in a sitting position. I’m understanding where this whole rolling the dice thing is going and panic is getting the better of me. Thrashing around in my chair is the only thing I can do. Mario walks over with a long pair of scissors, opening and closing them as he approaches.
With one hand, he reaches behind me and lifts my butt off the chair, demonstrating a perfect example of how they’re all going to rape me while I’m strapped to this chair. I thought it impossible that they’d have to untie me, or strap me down to something else, and that would be my time to run… to escape.
He reaches down with the scissors and I finally cry, beg, anything I can think of for him not to do this. The sound of clothing being cut lets me know it’s not me he’s cutting, it’s the crotch of my shorts. He cuts both sides of my panties, then hands the scissors off to one of his members and lifts me again, pulling the shredded fabric out.
I’m extremely embarrassed, my face flaming. The cool breeze hits my private skin, letting me know what’s out for everyone in the room to see. All the guys gather around like they’re watching a movie and should hold drinks and popcorn. I’m crying and murmuring words that are going unanswered, words even I cannot decipher.
“If you relax, this will all be so much easier,” Mario whispers in my ear as I hear him unbutton and unzip his pants.
Pulling me off my seat, sliding me down into position, he pushes my shirt up, exposing a portion of my breast, then one of his fingers glides over my bared skin.
I’m sobbing now; nothing is going to stop him from violating me. He has me around the waist, getting ready to push himself inside, when a loud slam hits the door and Alex crashes inside.