Hasta El Final- Ignacio Varga x Reader

Ⅰ.

I met him as Eduardo, just Eduardo, at the hotel lobby bar I worked at. This was a little over 6 months ago. Still, I think about how tempted I was to take that night off and how if I had, my life would've taken a different course. I would not have been coerced into an abusive relationship and forced into the cartel.

The man is known as "Lalo" Salamanca, an infamous name within the importing drugs race in New Mexico. Known for being the most creatively violent drug lord, along with his insane cousin, "Tuco" Salamanca.

I am one unlucky bitch.

That night at the hotel, it was especially slow. I had an overnight shift at the front desk and failed to get any sleep throughout the day. Family and relationship issues running through my head, agitating me more than usual. Breaking the rules or even losing my job became the least of my concerns at that point. I grabbed a drink during my shift. I asked my coworker to watch the desk while I looked for a Sapporo. I plopped myself down on the high stool, popped open the beer and with a big swig, let the apathy flush over me.

I did reflect on my life that night, how unhappy I was with all of it. Mostly about my love life. It seemed like the men that were readily available to me were more child than man. All of this advice I'd hear on how to motivate a man to be a "good man" just sounded like the same tricks you use to raise a child. 

Being raised a hopeless romantic who initially planned on staying a virgin til marriage, I always imagined a relationship based on sincerity. Wasn't that simple apparently. I had gone through multiple relationships that proved that I really couldn't rely on anyone. It shattered the idea of having a protector who loves me unconditionally. Having to accept this, and the fact I couldn't have that, made me miserable. I believed I had gotten to know misery to it's full extent.

Well, true misery and suffering sat with me that night. Charmed me and lured me, like a fruit fly to a Carnivorous Pitcher Plant. The sweetness that I craved would then have me falling for him. Falling into the acid, that would digest my life piece by piece.

Every meticulous step he took was to get me completely hopeless and reliant on him. He showered me in love and got me hooked on it. Convinced me to quit my job to be my "provider". Completely isolated me from my family, made me believe they were problems in my life, then made me believe I was the problem. That I needed to do more. Even though it seemed he was finally the man I was looking for, I wasn't completely blinded. I called him out and- it became... violent. As I tried to figure a way out, it's like he knew.

If I didn't become a slave to the cartel, my family would be murdered, he explained this to me calmly. It was so "matter of fact", I realized this man could barely pass as human. I had no idea about the drug cartel, or what it even was. Drinking was my specialty- never smoked or sniffed anything. Why would he want an inexperienced person like me? I still don't completely understand why he chose me as his victim.

I get a shit ton of money from it- I think, I haven't seen it. Lalo ensures my money and freedom after I've "earned" it.  The cartel wants to expand, which demands new customers. I'm required to meet strange people in remote spots and use salesman tactics (mostly sex appeal) to get them hooked. If I do not gain a certain amount of customers each day, I have food and water privileges minimized or taken away. 

I've witnessed some violence- no deaths thank God. Severe beatings from other drug dealers late on their payments are engrained in my psyche. Every day I fear of being on the receiving end or even witnessing a death. The world would be better without the Salamanca family. Lalo makes me dance for them every now and then, strip some- I thank God again they don't touch me.

But their eyes do.

There is a pair of eyes however, that avoid my shameful state. The man seems to respect me, or just have pity, even so I do appreciate it. He is Ignacio Varga or "Nacho", Not a Salamanca, but apparently was a trusted friend of Tuco.

I feel more emotionally numb and almost unbothered every day. I wake up either in Lalo's apartment or the utility closet. If I don't meet the customer quota for the day, or they're just extra pissed off, I get thrown and locked in there. It's hard to keep track of how long it's been, everything is a haze. I'm pretty sure I'm being drugged without me even knowing. Days go by in a flash and time moves fast but slow at the same time. I could be getting assaulted as I'm passed out, but, somehow I don't feel I am.

I awake to wet, cold, liquid splashing into my mouth, on my lips and my face. It's water. My upper body is being held up, my lower body flat on the hot tile floor. I know I'm in the utility closet again. I'm unable to move and see whose helping me. I assume it is Lalo, just trying to keep me alive for his convenience. But there's a different voice.

"Hey! Hey!"

A slap pats on my cheek, more care and love in the small slap than I've felt for months. I know he's trying to speak to me, but the rest of his words are hard to comprehend. His tone is relieving to hear, almost gives me euphoria. Everything feels so light and peaceful. I don't feel like I need to fight any longer. My body shudders, my muscles shake, I hunger for air and my vision is dark and clouded. I can't catch my breath, why does my chest feel like it's going to burst?

"Tragas, tragas, tragas!"

He forces the water into my mouth and closes my lips so I swallow. He keeps doing this, until the euphoria wears off. All of a sudden I feel fucking terrible. My body feels overwhelmingly hot, sticky and weak. I muster up enough strength to turn my neck, to see whose chest is behind me.

Ignacio Varga, the same man who averted his gaze at my forced strip teases.