Adrik
When I claimed her, that was it. I made her mine and betrayed her. She longed for a story that wasn't mine to narrate, so I did the only thing a man like me would-I sent her back. Little did I know the secret she was keeping. The worst of all...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
I checked into my hotel room yesterday morning and fell asleep until hours later. I planned to arrive here, shower and get a ticket to Todos Santos. That didn't go to plan because my babies didn't allow it. I was so tired after that plane ride because I refused to get some sleep because of the fright of someone stealing my things or harming me. I didn't trust anyone whether they gave me their sweetest smile.
I checked the time on the phone that Antonio gave me. Nine-fifteen in the morning. I sent a quick picture for Greta, letting her know I arrived safely and went to have a shower. The next plane to Todos Santos leaves in two hours, and that was too much time wasted. I had to return to Australia in two days before anyone realised what I had done.
Fuck! It felt like a weight waiting to take me to the darkest parts of the earth. I should have mentioned it, but I know information travels faster than the fucking air itself. It'll reach the ears of the devil before I could have stepped one foot in Mexico.
Who's to say he won't lock me up after his betrayal? I swallowed the lump in my throat at his three-sixty that night—how scared I was for him and his safety when he plotted my demise.
I felt the little sliver of sunshine vanish when I connected the dots—not even when I went through hell and back for ten years when I had to marry Alberto Conti or when Raffaele came to finish what he started. But when he mercilessly had me taken from that apartment, knowing I'd hate him for it.
He claimed my body and soul into the early morning—had me writhing, screaming his name and begging for more, all while I felt nothing but him. He marked my skin with his hands, mouth and seed, all while he reminded me who I belonged to.
That was betrayal—making me fall hard and fast for him when he didn't love me back and sending me away like unwanted goods. He didn't get to rule my life, ever! I don't want to forgive him, ever. I have to do it alone if no one can keep him away.
I quickly dressed into leggings and an oversized T-shirt before wrapping my hair into a tight low bun.
A knock sounded at the door, and I checked the time. Undoubtedly, no one knocks at your apartment door, right? I grabbed my suitcase and strolled closer to the door with a thudding heart whilst I gripped the knife hard in the other hand.
"Who is it?" I asked, erasing all traces of worry in my voice whilst I dropped the suitcase and pressed my back to the wall. Do you know when you have this gut feeling, and you flow with it? That was me now. Maybe he found me. Fuck!
"Room service." The man answered.
"I didn't order breakfast. You've got the wrong room."
"Room 12." He spoke again.
I clenched my jaw in frustration. "And I said you have the wrong room."
The doorknob began to twist viciously, and I trembled, knowing I would kill a man today. It was in the morning, for fuck's sake, and this might end up badly or deadly. There was no good way about this. I rubbed my belly and swallowed. For my babies— If this man is here to hurt me, I'd do it to protect my unborn children.
"Sir, please. You have the wrong room." I reached for the door and unlocked it, all while he was twisting and turning, trying to get inside. In a sliver of a second, I took a deep breath and lunged my knife into the side of his head.
He went down, his large body hitting the floor with a loud thud. I quickly stepped back and blocked my mouth and the bile I felt rising in my throat. I trembled, not taking my shocked eyes off the man I just killed. Blood oozed from the puncture in his head, dripping onto the ivory floors. I killed a man in a foreign country, and the police would be looking for me.
It's like my head submerged from underwater, and I acted impulsively. I had to run. Questions attacked me left, right and centre.
Will the police get me before I board my flight?
Should I forget about my birth mother and return to Italy?
What will I tell Antonio when he sees me?
Who sent this man? He looked forty-something, bulky and wore a moustache. A sob left my lips as I gripped the knife and slowly pulled it from his brain out of his skull. The sound—oh, that sound made my stomach churn. I rushed to the bathroom and emptied my stomach into the toilet.
I had to hide this knife and leave now. I know for sure there wasn't a breakfast tray outside my door. Either this man was a rapist, maxing his prey until he pounced on them, or someone sent him. Adrik couldn't have men in Mexico? That didn't make sense.
I looked around the bathroom, searching for somewhere to hide my knife and buy me time. I stupidly cleaned the blade with my shirt and opened the toilet lid before dropping it inside.
"Fuck!" I hissed. "It's not the day for this. Fuck, Giulia. Get your shit together if you want that flight." I ripped the shirt off my body and threw it in the shower. I ran back to the room, ignoring the dead body in the room with me and grabbed the sweater from the suitcase before pulling it over my head.
"We're fine. We're going to be fine." I convinced the bodies inside of me. "We'll run to Oceania or the Caribbean if it means protecting us." I threw on a cap and black sunglasses before grabbing my belongings and exiting the room. A switch turned off somewhere in my body as the door closed to the crime scene caused by my hands.
I signed out of the hotel room under the name Marcela Garcia and flagged a taxi.
"A donde?" The grown man looked at me through the mirror. Maybe it's the corpse I left behind, but this man looked like he could see the truth on my face. I'm just delusional. I reminded myself.
"Al aeropuerto, por favor." I pulled my head back onto the headrest to fight my tears.
Antonio would search his laptop and find I was learning simple phrases in Spanish. It won't be long before they catch me. I can feel it in my bones because everything wasn't going according to plan.
I'd never forget my first kill. It was getting raped or my babies getting hurt. I couldn't let that person be me—the one getting hurt.
It's survival, I tell myself. He would have hurt me. I think the problem was I was running away instead of reporting it. I was a fucking foreigner, for fuck's sake. The police are either fucking corrupted like the ones willing to turn a blind eye to suspicious activity for a fat check.
It happens in the Cosa Nostra, so nothing would convince me it doesn't happen in Mexico with these cartels and their love for human trafficking.
I wish I knew nothing about this, but my ears are sharper than newly bought knives. I have Edoardo to thank for that. With a knife to the throat, maybe.
I sighed and realised we were at the airport. I paid the man and looked around the almost vacant space. Another wave of paranoia hits me, and I glanced over my shoulder at the feel of eyes on me. Of course, no one was in sight, but that didn't mean someone wasn't hiding and looking.
You know what? Fuck this. I'm booking the earliest flight to Mexico City and Italy when I find an apartment for the evening. I'll be in Australia as I was supposed to be and forget all about this. I will change my hair and eye colour and wear different clothes. Even that didn't sound right. I'd have to find new passports and contact Greta through letters.
Getting new passports under a new identity would cost me heaps of money that I don't have and probably get me arrested, but it's about picking my poison.
Now, I wasn't just running from the devil, but running away from a crime. If the former doesn't get to me first, the latter will knock at my doorstep. I couldn't avoid either of them.
●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●
This girl is so confused. I'd be too.
Btw, this man was here to take her for sex trafficking. Neither Javier nor Adrik sent him.😉
