Matilda Garcia is married to one of the most established lawyers and land owners in Trinidad, and she cannot be more happier. Until, an object from her past suddenly appears in her life which leads to solve the mystery of her dead daughter, and circ...
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A force pulled my body backwards, causing me to grab on to the door and open it again. I attempted my escape again, but just like last time he simply grabbed onto my arm and pulled me back in. I kept my eyes on the door, determined not to look at him. He will not see my eyes again.
"Dear, relax," he said, "look at me." I did not oblige him. His fingers found their way to my chin. He turned my face towards him, and I tried as best as possible to cast my eyes downward.
He put his lips on mine. I felt absolutely nothing. My body grew cold. A repulsed emotion rushed through my veins as something rushed through my thoughts.
He used these same lips to kiss my daughter before he assaulted her.
The disgust hung on to my nerves. My skin crawled as I parted my lips from his, and my hand moved to wipe off my mouth. How dare he? The pale man looked on me with his almost lustful eyes and terrifying grin. A shudder permeated through my body. The audacity of this man to even do this after all that had happened. It was truly astounding the lack of respect this man had. I would have hit him. I wanted to but, the aching bruises and muscles of my body reminded me of the night of Anna's death- anniversary. Another beating could not happen again.
"Let me go," I ordered, squeezing as much fearless I could in my tone.
"No," he said simply. He moved his hand to my head, and his fingers caressed my hair. The feeling of his fingers in my hair was enough to make me ill. My stomach walls were caving in on themselves. My heart beat madly in my chest. Abandoning all sense of reason, I grabbed his arm and flung his hand out of my hair.
"Don't touch me," I spat.
He laughed in my face. His laughter used to bring butterflies to my stomach, but now I felt repulsion and hatred. He was laughing at me like I was a joke.
"A bit feisty aren't we today?" he mocked. "That's too bad. And here I thought we were going to have a civilised conversation."
My eyes widened as I processed what I had just heard. A civilised conversation? With the man who beat me? With my daughter's rapist?
"You expect me to laugh and smile with you after everything you've done?" I scoffed. "No, Henry, I will not do that. You do not deserve my civility." I felt the anger returning. I let it build up within me. " You do not get to kiss me and caress my hair and pretend that everything is fine. Do you expect me to pretend that you didn't beat me up so badly that I ended up in the hospital for four days? That you didn't lie to me for years? That you didn't rape my daughter? You are a monster Henry Garcia. You are a monster."
"Drive," was his only response to my rant, and that was an instruction to the driver, who wasn't Bernard. Did he fire him too?
The car began to drive around the police car and started its journey forward. Different questions popped into my mind. Why did we leave the police behind? Wasn't their job done? What more did they have to do? Henry's grin grew even wider when he saw my confusion, and he suddenly grabbed my arm, pulling my ear to his lips.
