Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 136731 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 684(@200wpm)___ 547(@250wpm)___ 456(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 136731 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 684(@200wpm)___ 547(@250wpm)___ 456(@300wpm)
It was hard living my life, and doing it in ladylike silence.
The truth is, I am not unlike any other woman. I want to be with a man who accepts me for who I am. I would like for a man to love me for all my small quirks rather than shame me for them. And above all, I crave the affection of a man who will give it to me freely, not use it as a weapon against me.
At this moment in my life, I am tired, but I am strong. And I will keep going as far as the road takes me, as far as there is road to travel.
I’ve paid my unjust dues for more than ten lifetimes with my marriage to Dino. I’m not giving up this life, not one I’ve earned with the scars of my misery, not without a fight.
It takes me back to something my brother told me when I asked how it felt to kill a person. Miguel explained, “Ana, bebita, we all come into this world kicking, and screaming, and covered in somebody else’s blood. You got to decide if you have a problem going out the same damn way. And me? I do not.”
As per all the children in my family, I had been taught to handle a gun. My father wasn’t interested in having us girls know about weapons, not until Miguel pointed out that, regardless of how safe we think we are, knowledge is power, and he assured our father that the lessons would not corrupt his little ladies. To say he was impressed with how well we took to our shooting classes was an understatement, and on my wedding night, my father gave me a gift.
It was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen, a gold-plated .22-caliber semi-automatic pistol with rose-gold budding roses engraved into it, the spiked vines coming up the grip to decorate the barrel. It was love at first sight, and I cherished it, taking it with me everywhere I went thanks to a concealed weapons permit. Until one fateful night, the first of many nights where Dino and Gio would push me so far over the edge that careening to my death sounded a wonderful reprieve from my shitty existence.
After being mentally abused for what seemed like hours, Dino had tied me naked to the bed with a ball gag in my mouth and a sheer blindfold over my eyes, and I listened to Gio describe the ways in which he would deflower my then nine-year-old sister. When she was ready, of course. Dino laughed and told Gio he would have to wait a while. Gio just replied a cool, “Oh, do I?”
Dino laughed, but I heard the threat clear as crystal.
Gio wanted my sister Rosa for his own.
I sobbed violently behind the blindfold, spittle dripping down my chin around the ball gag. I knew I had to do something to keep Gio away from her. But a man like Gio was not easily swayed. He needed persuasion in a manner of which he understood.
So when Dino released me, smacking me lightly on the bottom and telling me to get myself cleaned up, I kept my head lowered tamely and moved across the room, heading toward the bathroom, while Dino poured Gio another glass of overpriced, disgusting whiskey. I knew it was dreadful. After all, I’d had it poured down my throat a number of times.
On my way to the bathroom, I stopped just before I made it to the doorway. Reaching over to my purse, which hung innocently enough on a golden hook, I took out my gun, dropping my purse onto the floor, and I turned. Holding my weapon in both of my hands, I only had one man in sight, arms raised, pistol poised with the promise of eternal deliverance.
My vision blurred as I began to speak, my entire body shaking with pent-up anger. Breathing deeply through my nose, I spoke low, only for him. “She’s just a child.”
Somewhere in the room, a firm voice spoke. “Alejandra, what do you think you’re doing?”
But the rage bubbled, boiled inside of me, and reality was slowly slipping away. I took a step forward on trembling legs, my glaring eyes on the smirking face of my brother-in-law. “You’re not worthy. You are toxic.”
His smile began to falter, his amusement vanishing, and I could see I was beginning to strike further and further to where it hurt. And it felt so damn good that I couldn’t yet see the consequences of my actions.
My own cold smile began to form through the mist of fury, and I pushed, “You are nothing, the middle son, the forgotten one, so goddamned desperate for attention.”
Gio’s smile fell completely, crumbling away like bits of stone as the sea pounded angrily against a ragged cliff side, and for me, naked and beaten, the victory was immeasurable. Another step forward, less trembling this time, my small triumph had me doing this with a false sense of confidence.