Chapter Twelve
“Father, she's in danger and doesn't know it yet. She thinks that Michael is only going to keep her,” Juanita said.
“You know there's nothing you can do. If you tell her the truth, he will kill you.”
“She's a nice woman, but with no hope. Michael will kill her like he did my mother.”
“You are my only daughter, Juanita. I gave my life to Michael just to keep you out of the coca fields. Please don't let that go in vane.”
“You gave him your life, but he's been taking mine!”
“Juanita!”
“Before she came here, who do you think he's been forcing himself on!,” she said. “Don't say that!”
“I know how my mother felt being with a man she didn't love. Laying there while he violated her, over and over again!” She was upset that not even her father would raise a finger to help Dawn. She didn't want to come into that room and find her in bed beat to death. She couldn't deal with the trauma and knew neither could Dawn.
“Juanita, please.”
“Father, don't you see. I can't let her suffer the same way mother did. Hurt the same way that I do. I've heard her talk in her sleep about some man named Chris,” she said. “I don't know who he is, but...”
“Forget it!,” he said cutting her off. “Don't get involved, Juanita. Please promise me that you will stay out of it.”
Juanita sighed heavily and walked away from her father. Going to Dawn's bedroom, she knew that her thoughts would be dangerous, but if done right no one would know. Not even Micheal. Juanita slowly peeked inside to see that Dawn wasn't in the room and she slipped inside and shut the door behind her. Under pressure to get done before anyone came in, she grabbed a pen and a piece of paper off the desk. She quickly wrote a note, then looked it over before placing it on the bed. Juanita prayed that Dawn would get it before anyone else did. She knew that if Michael saw it, he would kill her. Walking over to the door, she opened it and turned around. She was having second thoughts, but decided to leave it as she left the room shutting the door.
Dawn stood in front of the fire place looking at the pictures on the mantel. She stared at a picture of a young woman. She was beautiful with her long dark hair and soft brown eyes.
“That's my daughter,” Michael said. He stood behind Dawn and she felt threatened that he might do something to her
“She's twenty two years old,” he said now holding Dawn from behind. “I know she'll be glad to meet you. She was excited when I told her about the wedding.”
“What wedding?,” she meekly asked.
“Ours of course. She would want to meet her new stepmother,” he told her.
Dawn felt something deep down inside of her crumble in hearing the word marriage. She didn't want to marry a man who enjoyed raping and beating her. He was a animal who didn't know how to ask for anything. He only knew how to take it. Micheal was slowly draining the life from her until she wouldn't be able to resist. At that moment her thoughts drifted to Chris and the love she felt for him. She couldn't bare to live without him, but Michael was forcing her to.
Forcing her to do a lot of things she didn't want to do. Resisting would mean punishment, by rape or beating. Compliance meant just rape. Dawn didn't love him and knew that she never would.
“We will be married in two days,” he told her holding her a little tighter. “Do you have a problem with that?”
Dawn looked down on the fire place. She was going to become his property to be beat on, threatened, broken, and humiliated. She knew what she had to do. Not as his wife or even as his slave.
“Tonight I'm having a small party in honor of our marriage. I expect you to be there,” he told her.
“Yes, Michael,” she said softly.
To her surprise, Michael turned her around. Dawn felt his tongue reaching out for hers in a passionate kiss. She was scared and could do the only thing she knew how. Pretend to enjoy it. Pretend to enjoy her captivity. Chris could no longer protect her so she had to do it herself, but she refused to let go of her love for him. Dawn knew that she could do it. It was the stubbornness that had been with her since childhood. She knew that same stubbornness could get her killed, but she didn't care because she give herself she would find freedom on her terms.
“Dawn, you don't know how much I want to make love to you right now, but I have important business to take care of,” he said before kissing her forehead. “After the party, it'll just be you and me.”
Dawn nodded and left the living room. Michael walked out onto the patio smiling. He was happy in knowing that he finally had her and in two days she would be his completely.
Dawn walked through the hall feeling utterly depressed and defeated. She hated Michael with every fiber of her being. It brought the thought of Allen and the way he had threatened her. It was so emotional that she had to laugh. She opened the bedroom door and walked in. Dawn didn't want to think about Chris. She couldn't bare to remember him laying on that cabin floor, but she thought about the good times they shared instead. Slowly sitting on the bed, she leaned back and stared at the ceiling. She felt a piece of paper by her head. She sat up and opened it. She wondered if it was a love note from Michael
“During the party you must excuse yourself. You have to go to the third floor and walk down the hall until you reach the last bedroom and open the door. You need to know the truth.”
A friend.
She stared at the door and wondered if she should go now instead of waiting. Dawn knew that it was Michael's house and if he was roaming around. She didn't want to get caught. Still, she wanted to know what was so important in that room. What horrible secret was being held from her. With a nod of determination, Dawn got off the bed and walked over to the bedroom door flinging it open. She saw Juanita vacuuming the carpet and looked at her and wondered if she had left the note.
“Ma'am, can I do something for you?”
“Did you leave this note on my bed?,” softly asked while holding up the piece of paper.
“No. I haven't been in your room since I woke you up this morning.”
Dawn went back into the room and shut the door. Reading the note again, she decided to wait, rather than rush in. Soft music played as Michael dressed in his best suit amongst his close friends and their wives. They took turns toasting his upcoming marriage. Nothing, but the sound of laughter and the voices telling old stories of childhood memories.
“Okay,” Michael said obtaining their attention. “Let's not forget my brother, Manny, on this auspicious occasion. I know if he were here, he would be just as happy as I am.”
They raised their glasses in a salute, including Manny's wife.
“When are we going to meet the bride?,” one of the women asked.
“Don't worry,” Michael said smiling.
“You will get to meet her.”
Dawn stood in front of the closet mirror looking herself over. She couldn't stop thinking about the note. She asked herself what was she suppose to see and who wrote the note. Turning away from the mirror, she put her hands up in the air in an attempt to push the thought from her mind. After brushing her hair and putting on her makeup, she left her room. She was nervous and heard the voices made it much worse. The thought of not being accepted bothered her. If they didn't like her she wondered if Michael would take it out on her. Pretend that she loved Michael would be the only way to keep from being attacked by him.
Dawn walked into the dinning room and all eyes were on her. Her gold dress brought out her figure which made her look more sensual as they stared at her. She walked over to Michael's side and gently held his arm.
“I would like to introduce you to my future wife. Dawn Hawkins,” Michael said, holding her by the waist.
#
Chris sat quietly in the truck as it made its way through the darkness. Margurite slept peacefully beside him, but he couldn't find any solace I sleeping. His thoughts were with Dawn and his failure to protect her. The code was simple and he had always followed it. Never get personally involved with the assignments, he thought to himself. He had to protect gorgeous women, who were more tempting than Dawn. He managed to do his job, but he couldn't understand why he gave in. Why couldn't he control himself. Chris thought it could have been the guilt of letting her go and not going after her. Or that he wanted her back in his life. He looked out of the windows, feeling a tear ran down his cheek.
#
Dawn excused herself and left the dinning room. Quickly going up the steps, she stopped on the third floor. She had to see what was in the bedroom. Hurrying down the hall, she reached the door. She knew that she had to be fast. She didn't want Michael to come looking for her. She opened the door and walked into the dark room. The smell of dust filled her nostrils making her sneeze a couple of times. Fearing that someone might have heard her, she quickly shut the door and turned on the lights. The bedroom was fully furnished, but all of the furniture was covered. With the amount of dust build up, Dawn figured the room hadn't been used in some time. She walked around looking at everything carefully. She wondered exactly what she was suppose to be looking for and was ready to leave the room when she spotted a part of a picture frame that was uncovered and became curious. Dawn walked over and removed the sheet and her eyes were soaked in tears. The woman in the painting looked like her and Dawn became more upset at seeing the name at the bottom of the painting. Maria Rodriguez. Everything became clear to her. She knew why Michael was holding her instead of just killing her. She reminded him of his wife. Did he do the same thing to her? Did he kill her? Those questions ran through her mind. Dawn had to find out how she died and who killed her. She quickly replaced the cover over the painting and left the room forgetting to turn the lights off. All kinds of thoughts raced through her mind and it was hard to compose herself. Dawn rejoined the party, but Michael could tell that something was bothering her. She seemed different and mostly avoided him, so he decided to wait until the party was over before approaching her.
#
“Chris, why are you so quiet? You haven't said a word in the past hour,” Marguerite asked.
“I'm sorry,” he said looking at her. “I have a lot on my mind.”
“I do too,” she said.
“Oh?”
“I was thinking about my son. I can remember his face before I left,” she said. “He was smiling, but yet, he was sad that I was leaving him behind.”
“Margurite, I've noticed that your son doesn't speak. Did something happen to him?,” Chris asked.
She sighed and held onto his arm. “Julio was with his father when Michael came. I don't know what really happened, but I believe that he saw his father die at his hand.'
“That must have been a horrible shock for a small child,” Chris remarked.
“Julio loved his father very much,” she said with a laugh. “You know, sometimes I think he loved him more than he did me. His father took him everywhere and they did everything together.”
“I'm sure he loves you just as much.”
“Don't get me wrong. He loves me, but Julio needs a man in his life,” she said now resting her head on him.
Chris felt the warmth of her body and the softness of her skin. Margurite was indeed a beautiful woman and she was a lot stronger than she looked. Through their conversations he discovered that she was smart and caring, a woman who had a meaning to her life. A reason to keep moving in a positive direction. She had a loving heart and he knew that any man she admired would be helpless from falling in love with her. If circumstances were different, he would consider staying and helping her.
“I guess the real question is, do you?”
Margurite looked at him and smiled. “Chris, you wouldn't believe how many men asked for my hand since my husband died. They just think they'll be in charge and have power.”
“Margurite, you are a beautiful, intelligent, loving, and kind woman. I understand why these men follow you. Why they would want you,” Chris remarked.
“Thank you, but I'm waiting for that special man. I'm not trying to replace my husband.
I'm looking for a strong man who believes in the same things as I do,” she told him. “I know you will find him.”
Margurite held Chris' arm a little tighter. She wanted to tell him that she had already found that man. In her time spent with him, his dedication, determination, and devotion was something she admired. She wanted to ask him to stay when it was all over and be with her. Margurite knew that together, they could rebuild Cora and turn it into some place great. She closed her eyes and wanted nothing more than to just be close to him.
#
“Dawn, did you enjoy the party?,” Michael asked joining her on the patio. “Yes. They seemed to like me.”
“Something's wrong and I want to know what it is?,” he sharply asked. “I guess I'm trying to get used to my captivity.”
Michael walked up behind her and held her gently as he looked out into the darkness. “Dawn, thank you for accepting your new home. For accepting your new life.”
She leaned against him, confused and full of questions that she dare not ask him. Her mind was on what was happening now, and what will be, but her heart was with Chris, who was now amongst the stars. There were so many things going through her mind, but she pushed them away, now feeling Michael's hands running over her breasts, caressing them. Dawn knew that he would take her. She wanted to fight back and refuse, but she knew the penalty. Michael kissed the back of her neck, then turned her around gently kissing her lips before it became more emotional and passionate. More urgent. He held her close feeling the return of her passionate kisses of her own. Michael took and her hand before ending their kiss. He led her off the patio and through the dinning room, into the hall and up the stairs to her bedroom. The door was shut and he kissed her again, then unzipped her dress pushing it down off her shoulders. Dawn stood there not resisting as her dress fell to the floor. She watched painfully as he removed his clothes as well.
Michael took her and led her to the bed and laid her down as he joined her. Dawn could see his lust. His hunger for her. It disgusted her, but she had to learn to love him. If it would stop the beatings, she had to. She had to remember to pretend. With a smile, she held him and kissed him before he removed her bra and panties. Dawn gently kissed and nibbled on his chest as he ran his fingers through her hair. Michael softly moaned and groaned, feeling her wet lips barely touching his skin as he pushed her head down to his thighs. “Ahhh, Dawn, yes,” he moaned out loudly, feeling the pleasure she was giving him. After a few minutes, she moved up and straddled him, then leaned down kissing him. They both gasped as he deeply entered her. Dawn moaned out as her body moved with his trying to drain him quickly. Anticipating what she wanted, he maneuvered her onto her back, pinning her. He paused a few seconds while looking at her. He looked deep into her eyes, trying to find some spark of love. Suddenly, his body began moving as fast as he could make it. Dawn grabbed him and held him tight. She could feel him go deep inside of her with his hard thrusts. She closed her eyes and prayed it would soon end. The thought of the same thing happening every night made her sick to her stomach. Michael cried out about how much more he could take. His grunts and groans filled her ears as well as the room. Swear formed on her body as well as his. She wanted to let go, but couldn't because out of her own pretending, she felt something. She felt her body responding to Michael's love making. The passion in her began to rise to its peak of climax. “Michael, oh, Michael. Ohhh...” Her body trembled, along with his as they climaxed together. She could feel him emptying out in her, filling her with his seed. With one last hard thrust, she let go of him and he collapsed on top of her.
Michael softly brushed back the hair from her face as she tried to catch her breath. He held her close and didn't speak. The mood was just right as Dawn drifted off to sleep. Michael eased himself out of the bed and stretched and looked her and smiled, then turned around. He noticed a balled up piece of paper laying beside the waste basket. Curious, he walked over and picked it up and started to throw it away, but opened it instead. Anger filled him while he read the note. It was in Juanita's handwriting and now he knew why Dawn had been acting strange. Michael tossed the paper back on the floor, then got dressed leaving.