Finding Forgiveness

Correction: he likes me the way I look

His fingers ran up my thigh but I slammed my hand to stop them.

“I’ve just been sick. You don’t want to do that,” I said.

“I don’t care,” he said grabbing the mouthwash from the sink and forcing my mouth open. “See. It’s like it never happened,” he added after messily sloshing some in.

It mostly went down my front but what did reach my lips, burnt my mouth with a stale, sharp mintiness.

“You’re drunk,” I protested as his hand travelled further up.Exclusive content © by Nô(v)el/Dr/ama.Org.

“Stop making excuses, Blanca,” he replied. “I still know what I want.”

A few moments later, I found myself with him over me on the bed. The scent of alcohol in his breath was strong and putrid and his hands were clumsy but still strong and rough. This wasn’t meant to happen for another few hours when he was borderline paralytically intoxicated. In the state he was in now, I didn’t stand a chance of slipping away unnoticed let along killing him.

His hand began to tug at my panties and I couldn’t stop him. It made me feel like I could vomit all over again as tears welled up in my eyes.

At some point, I vaguely remember the bedroom door open. Andrea began turning around but shortly after there was a loud clanking noise and his grip on me loosened.

My mouth dropped wide open as I saw Julia standing over the bed with a frying pan in her hand, looking just as shocked as me.

We watched as he wavered and then collapsed onto the bed before I scrambled out from under him and she suddenly pulled herself together.

“Come on,” she said firmly as she took my hand. “He won’t be out for long.”

She dropped the pan and dragged me towards the door.

“Wait, wait,” I said turning back around.

I quickly rushed over to his unconscious body, looking for something. But it wasn’t on him. It wasn’t on the dresser either or in the bathroom.

“He could wake up any second. We’ve gotta go,” Julia urged.

“Where’s his gun?” I asked. “We need to make sure he never wakes up.”

“It’s not here,” she said. “And we don’t have time to look for it.”

I nodded and followed her down the hall, pulling my dress back down as we went downstairs. The voice inside my head was telling me to go back and find a knife, a belt, a plastic bag. Literally anything. She wanted him dead and so did I but Julia was right, he could wake up any second and we couldn’t risk it.

I could feel fear and adrenaline build up inside me but she kept a brave face as we marched into the crowd of the party,

“Wipe your tears, act normal,” she ordered.

She was leading me towards the front door, where Chico stood. He saw Julia and smiled. But then he noticed me and the worrisome expressions on our faces and he instantly stood up straight and furrowed his eyebrows.

“I knocked your boss out,” Julia stated, getting straight to the point.

His eyebrows raised, “You did what?”

“I hit him over the head with a frying pan,” she clarified.

Chico paused for a moment as the words sunk in before he suddenly pulled himself together, “Then we need to go,” was all he said before he headed straight for the front door, pulling a set of keys out of his pocket. “All three of us,” he added, looking to me.

My heart suddenly jumped.

“Come on,” he said putting a hand on my back. “My car is just out here.”

He ushered both me and Julia out of the house and into the back of his car before driving at full speed away.

I always knew Chico felt for me and deep down he seemed to be a good man. But to risk his life to help me without any hesitation was something I could never expect from anyone. And Julia? She was simply just unimaginably brave and selfless.

We drove for a good ten minutes before Julia finally spoke again.

“Where are we going, Chico?”

“Caracas. I don’t know. Anywhere far away from here,” he replied, putting his foot down. “How hard did you hit him?”

“Pretty damn hard,” she replied.

“He was out cold,” I added.

“And he didn’t see my face and he’s hardly sober enough to remember anyway,” Julia said. “We will be fine, Chico.”

I spotted a terrified glint in her eyes. Things were unlikely to be fine and she knew it.

“I can’t thank you both enough,” I replied.

“Don’t speak too soon,” Chico replied. “We might still all die tonight.”

“You tried,” I said. “That’s more than anyone else was willing to do.”

Julia took my hand and smiled, “Andrea may have provided us with a house and enough money to live comfortably and give our pups a happy childhood, but he’s evil and his mistreatment of you is inhumane. I couldn’t let you stay with him.”

“You have pups?” I asked.

“Four,” she said. “Which is why I can sympathise with you. I can’t imagine what it would be like to be separated from them for so long.”

“Bad news,” Chico said. “We’re running out of gas.”

“What?” I whispered.

“I wasn’t expecting you to knock out one of the most dangerous men on earth with a frying pan this even and have to make a quick getaway this evening,” he replied.

We were in the middle of nowhere, there’d be no gas stations for miles.

“Do you have enough to get back to the house?” I asked.

“We’re not going back,” he replied.

“I’m not but you two are,” I said firmly. “Leave me here. Go back to the party. Act like you never saw me.”

“No, Ella-” Julia began.

“If he finds us on the side of the road with no gas, we are all screwed,” I said. “You have helped me, now let me help you.”

“We can’t just leave you,” Chico said.

Just then the low gas alert sounded.