A.N. – Super-angsty chapter this, sorry. And of course… another cliffie. Oops.
WARNING: MA rating in this chapter for the violence and sexual assault content. Don't read the sections between XXX marks if you are under 16.
Chapter 82 – The flowerpots of wrath (I)
Tomás lifted his arm and aimed at Diego's chest with Don Alejandro's gun, with a wicked smile on his face, under the bandana, that reached his eyes. That man looked demented, and capable of anything.
With a brief glance at those crazy eyes, Diego knew the maniac was about to open fire against him again, for real, with a complete lack of empathy for other human beings, like most people would do while stomping on a cockroach, not valuing the critter's life in the slightest.
This time, the gun was out of reach, too far away from him to paw at it, and it was aimed squarely at his heart, not the side of his head. Where other men would cry and beg, pissing themselves with fear, Diego just swallowed hard and closed his rolling eyes, praying to the Lord the gun would misfire. He didn't want to go like this, without a fight, and he was too angry with the unfair situation to feel any kind of fear, overwhelmed by the rage and the unbearable, agonizing shame and guilt he felt for not being able to protect anybody, including himself, impotent to avoid that grim outcome.
Victoria cried when that man pulled the trigger, hysterical, and the doctor cringed, but nothing happened; without a blast, no bullet came out of that gun. Diego opened his erratic eyes to look at the bandit while he laughed crazily. His angry, rolling blue irises now oozed pure hatred.
"See? I told you. Totally useless, this gun," Tomás said, tossing it away. "And you, woman, shut up!" he barked then, turning his attention back to Victoria. Tomás knew they should return to the canyon as soon as possible with the money, but he couldn't help himself: she was too pretty to waste that chance of having fun. She continued crying, still horrified, in shock, so he grabbed her upper arms, shaking her, and pulled her up from her seat. "All right, I'll shut your mouth for you."
He pulled the bandana down and forced a kiss on her. She tried to fight back, with a muffled cry, but he pressed on, holding both her wrists in one of his hands, using the other one to grab her hair, locking her head still.
"Leave her alone, you bastard!" Diego cried, trying to stand up, but Doctor Hernández held his arm when a different bandit pulled a gun to his head. Again! Can you malditos cabrones do something else than pulling guns at me?
"How many times can you be that lucky, Diego?" the doctor said in a low, warning tone.
Diego stood still then, looking at that barrel end, the little black hole that rotated in front of his rolling eyes non-stop. The doctor was right: he had escaped death by gunfire three times in a row already, and he shouldn't push it. Besides, he wasn't in the best condition to fight anyone. Hesitating, he recalled the conversation he had with Victoria the previous night:
"I would prefer… that happening to me, to see you hurt because of me."
"I won't let anybody hurt you, ever, whatever it takes, I promise."
"You can't promise that, Diego. You are not God, and you can't be protecting me twenty-four hours a day, every day of my life. You can't promise I will always be safe, the same you can't promise nothing is going to happen to you, as Zorro or otherwise. And that last possibility is what makes me so worried. Much more of what could happen to me. Way more."
"I'll die for you if I have to, as long as I keep you safe."
"You are not listening, are you? You'll die for me, and I'll die if you die for me… So, we'll both die."
Tomás let go of Victoria's head and turned to look at Diego while still holding her wrists, flashing a revolting, evil smirk of rotten teeth.
"Our boss is injured. That bloody horse kicked him!" said one of Manuel's men, coming into the library at that moment, looking anxious.
"Do I look as if I could care less?" Tomás shouted, furious, annoyed by that interruption. "Get the horse or get out of here empty-handed; either way don't bother me!"
"You don't understand. That horse was at the canyon. They all were. They escaped!"
That man looked around him, taking on the awkwardness of the whole situation in the library. Not wanting to get involved, he returned to the parlour, where they had left Manuel resting on a chair.
"Let go off me, you son of a bitch!" Victoria cried, struggling to break free from his strong grip, to no avail.
"You two can watch and enjoy the view. I am that generous," Tomás said, nodding back at Diego and the doctor. Then, he looked at his comrade, who came to help gladly, his eyes also brimming with lust. Tomás let go of Victoria's wrists while the other man held her arms from behind, and he used both hands to tear her top apart, revealing her breasts.
With a tougher grip, the doctor clasped his hand on Diego's arm when Victoria's breasts got uncovered and that despicable man fondled them roughly, looking back at Diego again while laughing.
"I would prefer… that happening to me, to see you hurt because of me."
Diego believed those words may have crossed her mind at that point too, while seeing him simmering with anger and about to snap and get killed, because she stopped struggling and stood still, looking at him with determination in her eyes, shaking her head slowly, ditching the hysterical fear while they groped her at four hands.
"That's it, puta, stand still. Now you like it, ah?" Tomás said, kissing her again, forcing his way in with his tongue, chasing hers.
ZZZ
Mendoza ran for cover to the patio. Hiding in there, among the myriad of plant pots, he sniffed a bit more of the white powder while admiring Don Alejandro's beautiful flowers. Then, with the clarity of mind that followed, he had an idea. He collected a few of the smaller plant pots that hung from the wall, huddling them together between his chest and his left arm, to use them as weapons. Damaging Don Alejandro's prized collection broke his heart, but he didn't have much time to improvise otherwise, and he would do and use anything to prevent any harm to the people inside.
Carrying that heavy load, he walked to the door with a pot ready to use in his right hand. Before he reached the door, a man carrying a gun came out, and Mendoza threw his first projectile at him. The geranium pot hit that man over the bridge of his nose, right between the eyes, knocking him out cold before it smashed in pieces on the floor. Uprooted, that geranium lay there besides its target, among the pieces of clay and soil, the first brave casualty of that little war.
Mendoza ran to hide with his back pressed against the wall, at one side of the door, and grabbed another, larger pot that was hanging there, preserving the others for later. Pablo and Felipe opened fire then, from opposite sides of the fence, providing a distraction. He only had to wait a couple of seconds before another man showed up at the door, checking on his comrade, crouching by him. The sergeant stepped forward and smashed the second pot over the back of his head with a mighty blow. That man dropped to the ground on top of the other casualty, also unconscious.
This could be easier than I thought! And it's much faster than reloading my gun.
Mendoza took a deep breath then and stepped inside while Pablo and Felipe carried on shooting.
ZZZ
"I would prefer… that happening to me, to see you hurt because of me."
When that thought crossed her mind, remembering their conversation the night before, she stopped struggling. She was terrified, sickened and disgusted by the touch of those hands, but she couldn't bear the thought of losing Diego. Just a moment ago he'd got shot again, only this time, the gun misfired, but he could have got killed, just as easily. And now, he had another gun pointing at him.
She looked at her husband and slowly shook her head, because he looked like about to jump to that man's throat and to his death, ignoring the weapon trained on his face.
Dying for this wasn't worth it. At that moment, her body shut down and she withdrew completely, hardly reacting to the situation, trying not to feel their rough, filthy hands crawling all over her soft skin. However, despite her determination to stand still, when that repulsive man called her puta and kissed her again, with fetid breath invading her mouth while his revolting tongue prodded deep as if willing to reach her throat and beyond, she suffered a gag reflex, heaving, and some bile poured into her mouth quickly and involuntarily, gushing into his. He pulled back at the vile taste, spitting, and slapped her hard, insulting her again. Then, he threw her on the floor, where he continued ravishing her, removing all her clothes while the other man pinned her down. She closed her eyes and pretended not to be there, pretended not to feel, and above all, pretended not to care or suffer so Diego would not lose it completely. As if this was something she could endure easily. For him.
XXX
That man unfastened his belt and left the money bags and his sword at her side. When he lifted and forced her legs wide open, and then fumbled with his trousers in haste, getting ready to penetrate her, she closed her eyes again and clenched her teeth, determined not to scream, however painful and gross this would be. The other man held her down in that position, hurting her hips already while pulling hard from the back of her thighs, behind her knees, drooling all over her while awaiting his turn.
What if any of these men get me pregnant? Oh, no, please Lord, no. Por favor.
She could not face that disturbing thought. Diego had been extremely careful not to get her pregnant before the official wedding, but these men would discharge their seeds inside her, no doubt about it. They would not show the deference of withdrawing. What would Diego do if that happened? Reject her? Divorce her? Pretend their marriage never happened?
She was about to struggle again, but then she thought that, to keep Diego safe, even that horror would be worthy. She had to go through this, whatever happened after. Even if he rejected her later on as "damaged goods" and she lived a miserable life as an outcast; as the filthy whore that didn't offer resistance to a gang rape and got pregnant as a result. It would be a nightmare, but as long as he wasn't hurt, any other outcome would be acceptable.
She cried in silence then, giving up, gasping when that son of a bitch rammed his tool inside her, hard and deep, hurting her. Thick tears spilled off her closed eyes when he started to thrust mercilessly, but she opened them quickly with a glimpse of hope when someone shouted at the door:
"Get away from her, cabrón hijo de puta!"
Help had finally arrived, whoever that was, because with that ugly, evil man on top of her, she couldn't see the door.
XXX
Diego could not stand it. Making him watch this was the cruellest thing. The doctor's hand pressing on his arm and Victoria's brave attitude were the only things that kept him grounded, not losing his ability to reason. If she was willing to endure that assault quietly to protect him, he couldn't just get himself killed because of his damaged pride, the humiliation he felt, and the wrath that boiled within. Despite his rage, he had to keep quiet and do nothing. For her. For him. For everybody, so they would all survive, including his father, wherever he was.
Then, a worrying thought occur to him: that man had pulled the bandana and let them see his ugly face. Shit, that's a very bad sign! That meant he would probably kill them in the end, regardless of what they did now. He was going to kill them all: Victoria, the doctor, Felipe… By the way, where was Felipe? Could he still be at the cave, watching that horror through the spy hole? He could try something, but the poor lad would not be able to fight all these men on his own, so he better stayed put hiding, away from danger.
He stirred then, anxious, and the doctor pressed even harder on his arm, almost digging his nails in his flesh.
"No," he whispered. "Don't do it!"
"They're going to kill us!" Diego whispered back. "We won't get away alive because we saw his face!"
If that was the case, if they would all inevitably die today, there was no point on keeping quiet and let them rape Victoria. He was sure she would prefer dying now, before that happened, rather than later.
When that bastard forced her legs wide open, he knew he had to do something, quick. But, what? That gun still aimed at his head, with that thug not getting distracted by the ravishing scene taking place behind him. He was probably so used to this kind of thing, he didn't feel the compelling need of watching; not if he didn't have a main role to play in the despicable action.
What can I do? And how? Think, dammit, think!
The barrel end in front of him seemed to laugh on his face when the evil bastard forced himself on top of Victoria and started to thrust.
"Get away from her, cabrón hijo de puta!"
Diego looked at the door then, hopeful. He could not believe his rolling eyes.
Right then, a gunfire blast went off outside and they heard a cry that lifted all the hostages' hearts, restoring their lost hope.
"Soldiers! There are soldiers outside!"
ZZZZZ