Chapter 13

I'd slept ever since Diego left the bread and water for me. Whenever I woke up, I forced myself to drift off to sleep again. The idea of having nothing to do and being watched all the time made me think of unpleasant memories. Such as Dad leaving, or the way my sisters behaved after the funeral. Or rather, Alice not coming, and Rebecca pretending I didn't exist.

"You didn't eat or drink anything after I left?" a male voice said.

I was feeling disoriented and for some reason, it took a while for me to realize Diego was talking to me, not Mom. For some reason, I was caught between my reality and my subconscious. He'd either come to change the bucket I hadn't used, or he'd come to get me out of here. It was then I smelled it and realized I hadn't used the bucket because I'd pissed myself. I was sitting in my own urine, and it didn't bother me.

"Adrianna, don't try to move. I'll lift you up."

I didn't argue as he gently held me and I wrapped my arms around him. It was as if I couldn't feel a thing, I thought. I was holding him, but he lifted and held me up tighter. I closed my eyes once again and started to fall back asleep. I could feel my body jolting up and down. We were leaving the dungeon, and I didn't know where he was taking me.

"What's wrong with her?" another voice asked, but we were still moving.

"She's fucking dehydrated, gone into shock. She needs a warm bath, to get out of these soiled clothes and something good to eat. Soup or something. Tell Lourdes to make it now."

"Where are you taking her?"

I moaned, and this seemed to stop the conversation, but then it continued as I heard Diego raise his voice.

"I don't know what you were thinking, and I couldn’t give a shit right now. Llamarla ya!"

I didn't know what the last part of his sentence meant, but somehow he magically wrapped my arm around his and I closed my eyes even tighter, with what little strength I had in me. I hated Ricardo for making me soil myself and for Diego for witnessing it. I wanted to leave, and I started to cry.

I felt him come to an abrupt stop and say, "Don't cry. It's not your fault. It's this stupid cousin of mine."

I smiled; I didn't know if I was looking directly at him, but by his comforting voice, I knew I'd found salvation somehow. As he laid me on top of a bed gently, I opened my eyes. I didn't recognize the room; it was black, and the paintings hung on the wall were dark and obscure. If I was in hell, then I sure felt like it the moment I entered the room.

"Joder! My room. My bed! What the hell, Diego?" Ricardo said as he came to the foot of the bed. I sat up to face him.

"Yeah, your fucking bed now is full of shit. She's dehydrated, she needs soup, and a warm bath. Unless you're going to strip her and put her in the bath, then I suggest you tell Lourdes to start cooking and leave me to it."

He didn't respond; instead, I watched as he walked away. I started to shake, as I had images of him pulling out a gun and shooting Diego, then me as a result of it.

Diego's voice turned gentle again as he said, "I'm going to run you a warm bath."

I tried to move my head because I was unable to speak. I felt like a helpless child. He seemed at peace about my reaction as he left me, soiled and wet on Ricardo's bed.

It didn't take long for Diego to reappear, he gently stripped my clothes and I tried to help him, but I was too feeble. I was lying naked on Ricardo's bed, but he was the furthest thing on my mind.

"The bath is not too warm because you could completely pass out, but it’s warm enough to get your circulation going. I'll first put you in the shower to get the stench off you, then in the bath. Okay?"

I nodded my head. “Do you think you can stand in the shower for a few seconds so I can run the head on your body?"

Again, I gave consent with my body language.

"Good."

He lifted me to the shower, where the water was already running, and I could see a little steam leaving it. I knew by stench he meant the shit and urine which had probably become a second skin on my body. I didn't know when I had done either, but they were there, as I could smell them. Diego didn't flinch. He didn't appear to react to my body at all.

I turned around, holding the shower doors for support, then he smiled as he turned off the shower, and said, "Let's get you into the bath."

The bathroom was so big. As I stepped on the heated tiles, I admired the life-size mirror, which hung over the bath, and the window, which was in front of it. It had marble steps to walk up to the cream bath which was more of a Jacuzzi size. I wondered if Ricardo spent his nights in the bath, admiring the grounds and feeling victorious about all the people he'd killed the same day. The idea of leaving my urine and shit on his bed gave me some sort of satisfaction. Diego was right, my circulation started to work and no more did I feel so feeble. I climbed into the bath with little assistance.

"I'll get you some lemon water and have a shower myself. I won't be long."

I knew the reason he said it was because he had my shit on him. I sighed as I closed my eyes and held on to the side of the bath. I was feeling better already, not enough to forget what had happened the last couple of days, but well enough to be more aware of my surroundings. I had initially believed I was coming into this house to die, and up until a few minutes ago, I had thought I would be proven right.

* * *

I didn't want to leave the bath, Diego had come with a jug of warm water and lemon and I'd finished one glass, a second, and I was on my third. I still wasn’t feeling the need to pee. He told me I should shout out if I needed anything, but I wanted to be by myself and to enjoy the view.

When I heard footsteps behind me, I turned around to see they were Ricardo's. There he was with a tray in his hand.

"Do you want me to leave this here?"

I shook my head. “No."

Who eats in the bathroom?

Was this his way of trying to be nice? It was too late; I couldn't forget, let alone forgive what he'd done to me.

"Fine, I'll leave it on the table in the room. Don't worry, your clothes and my sheets have been removed."

"As if I would worry about that!"

I stood with all the confidence in the world, and he nearly dropped the tray as his eyes flashed on my naked flesh.

"Look at me!" I pointed to the scratches and bruises on the side of my body.

"If you wanted to kill me, then you should have done it already. I don't understand why you had to treat me this way. What did I do to you, apart from crash my car into yours by accident?"

I shook my head, wanting him to look at me, but then he turned away. He ignored me and it cut like a knife, the idea he could be so cold, so unforgiving about the way he'd treated me.

"Why did you do this to me? Why would you behave this way?"

He started to move away. I wanted to follow him, but I knew if I moved with haste, then I would most likely slip on the floor and end up at the morgue.

"Your soup will be waiting for you in my room. When you're ready then you can have it. There's warm bread, too."

He opened the door. I could see him setting down the tray, and then he left. I didn't hesitate in leaving the bath. I'd been in there long enough and I was hungry, so I headed to the table after grabbing the robe Diego had left at the side of the bath. I didn't even dry myself properly, quickly sweeping my hair into a bun and then opening the door. There was an assortment of food on the table; not only soup, but chicken with rice, and bread. All that was missing was dessert and I would have had a four-course meal. I smiled at the aroma, which was making me feel the need to sit down and dig in. I didn't hesitate as I picked up the cutlery, and started to devour it.