Chapter 7 Blast from the Past

Stupid, stupid girl! Look what you got yourself caught up in.

I could not go back on the deal, not until two years elapsed. If I were to, it would mean refunding every dime of Torsney I'd spent. I didn't have every dime. But I could run, yes. Another country or continent. Leave all these madness behind.

But who was I kidding. He would find me. Wherever I went. He had definitely left someone around tailing my every step.

What did he mean by get pregnant? So now, he thought he could just snap his fingers and make me his baby mama. That jerk! That stupid bullying jerk! And all because we started to get intimate.

I hated him! I hated him so much! And now with my dad patrolling the premises, looking to catch me, perhaps to start leaching of me again. He now knew I lived around here. Toby followed me around, whining. I didn't know what the little guy's problem was. I already had enough of my own. I tried picking him up to pet him, but he shied away, yelping. That got me curious.

"What is it?" I asked the little guy.

A knock landed heavily on the front door, almost jarring my heart out my chest. It came again. That was not Torsney. He no longer knocked. He had the spare key. No one else came to mind.

"Who's there?" I called, scared.

"Darcy? Open up."

I knew that voice. It sounded vaguely familiar. But I wasn't expecting who it would be when I opened up.

"Andrés!" I yelled, surprised. "What are you doing here?"

"What?" He grinned. "The old friend's not welcomed?"

"No, no. Of course not. Come on in," I stepped aside so he could walk in. "I was just surprised."

He stood, admiring the place. I closed the door, slowly. A kind of thick tension was slowly filling the space up. "Come on and have a seat. What can I get you? Wine?"

"Nothing sounds good, thank you."

Andrés had been my suitor. He was a good man, and although struggling, he used to help me with the little things: rent and bills and all. My father had really hated him because he had not been wealthy. I looked him over. Didn't seemed to have changed too much though.

He still wore the same worn Jean trousers that I had known since I was twenty. Still the same faded jacket. The only change was his shoes. He'd gotten a pair of new shoes. An exact replica of the one brand he was used to, but new. I nodded at that.

"At first, I didn't believe it. You had moved, they said." He wrung his hands like a six-year-old caught doing mischief. He did not sit. "You had gotten rich, they said. I found this hard to believe at first, since you had not come for me."

"Andrés. I told you we didn't have a thing. I told you I wasn't interested."

"I waited, but you never came knocking," he continued, as if he had not heard what I said. "Darcy, you are a terrible, terrible person. It's your kind that turn people like us into monsters, when we are not."

This was not looking good. I had goosebumps as he said that. He looked so pained I started to feel ashamed. "Andrés, please sit. We should talk."

"But we are talking, Darcy!" He suddenly was shouting. "We are talking right now, Darcy!"

I tried moving away from him, but his hands shot out and held me. "Do not move away when I am talking to you, Darcy. No more of that!"

He flung me to the floor, there in the sitting room. Before I knew what was happening, he had straddled me. I tried to push him off, but he was leagues stronger. He swung a thick hand at my face, drawing blood.

"And you keep quiet. No words, Darcy. I have come to collect what you've been owing me all these years." He started to unbuckle his belt while I screamed for help. I scratched at his face with my nails, and he hit me again. And again. He kept hitting me. Then he was tearing my clothes. I was thinking it was all over. But then his eyes rolled, and he collapsed on top of me. Someone had hit him behind his head. I pushed him off, moaning.

Two strange male faces peered down at me.

"Need a hand, ma'am?" One of them asked. I hurt all over, and nodded, wincing. He pulled out a hood of some sort and nodded at his partner.

"Wait. What are you..." He made a fist and hit me hard on my head. I knew nothing else.