Twist Me: The Complete Trilogy

Chapter 11-1

11Nora

Over the next couple of weeks, I slowly acclimate to my new home. The estate is a fascinating place, and I spend much of my time exploring it and meeting its inhabitants.

Besides the guards, there are a few dozen people living here, some by themselves, others with their families. They all work for Julian in one capacity or another, from the oldest generation to the youngest. Some—like Ana and Rosa—take care of the house and the grounds, while others are involved in Julian’s business. He may have only recently returned to the compound, but many of his employees have lived here since the time when Juan Esguerra—Julian’s father—reigned as one of the most powerful drug lords in the country. To an American like myself, such loyalty to an employer is unfathomable.

“They’re well paid, provided with free housing, and your husband even hired a teacher for their children a few years ago,” Rosa explains when I ask her about this unusual phenomenon. “He might not have been here much in person, but he’s always been good at taking care of his people. They’re all free to leave if they want, but they know they’re unlikely to find anything better. Besides, here they’re protected, but out there, they and their families are fair game for nosy policemen or anyone else seeking information on the Esguerra organization.” Giving me a wry smile, she adds, “My mother says that once you’re a part of this life, you’re always a part of this life. There’s no going back.”

“So why did they choose this life?” I ask, trying to understand what would make one move to a weapons dealer’s isolated compound on the edge of the sss rainforest. I don’t know many sane people who would do something like that willingly—particularly if they knew there was no easy way to return home.

Rosa shrugs. “Well, everybody has a different s********e were wanted by the authorities; others made enemies of dangerous people. My parents came here to escape poverty and provide a better life for me and my brothers. They knew they were taking a risk, but they felt they had no other choice. To this day, my mother is convinced that they made the right decision for themselves and their children.”

“Even after—?” I start asking, then shut my mouth when I realize that I’m about to bring up painful memories for Rosa again.

“Yes, even after,” she says, understanding my half-spoken question. “There are no guarantees in life. They could’ve died anyway. My father and Eduardo—my oldest brother—were killed doing their jobs, but at least they had jobs. Back at my parents’ village, there were no jobs, and the cities were even worse. My parents did whatever they could to keep food on the table, but it wasn’t enough. When my mother became pregnant with me, Eduardo, who was twelve at the time, went to Medellín seeking to become a drug mule—just so that our family wouldn’t starve. My father went after him to stop him, and that’s when the two of them ran into Juan Esguerra, who was in the city for negotiations with the Medellín Cartel. He offered both my father and brother a job in his organization, and the rest is history.” She stops and smiles at me before continuing, “So you see, Nora, working for Señor Esguerra was the best alternative for my family. As my mother says, at least I never had to sell myself for food, the way she did in her youth.”

Rosa says that last part without any bitterness or self-pity. She’s simply stating facts. Rosa genuinely considers herself lucky to have been born on the Esguerra estate. She’s grateful to Julian and his father for providing her family with a good living, and, despite her longing to see America, she doesn’t mind living in the middle of nowhere. To her, this compound is home.

I learn all of this during our walks. While Rosa doesn’t like jogging, she’s more than happy to take a brisk walk with me in the morning, before it gets too hot and muggy. It’s something we started doing on my third day here, and it’s quickly becoming part of my daily routine. I like spending time with Rosa; she’s bright and friendly, reminding me a bit of my friend Leah. And Rosa seems to enjoy my company as well—although I’m sure she would be nice to me regardless, given my position here. Everybody on the estate treats me with respect and politeness.

After all, I’m the Señor’s wife.

After the incident at the gym, I have done my best to accept the fact that I’m married to Julian—that the beautiful, amoral man who abducted me is now my husband. It’s an idea that still disturbs me on some level, but with each day that passes, I grow more and more accustomed to it. My life changed irrevocably when Julian stole me, and that far-off ‘normal’ future is a dream I should’ve given up a long time ago. Clinging to it while falling in love with my kidnapper had been as irrational as developing feelings for him in the first place.

Instead of a house in the suburbs and two-point-five kids, my future now holds a heavily guarded compound near the sss jungle and a man who both excites and terrifies me. It’s impossible for me to imagine having children with Julian, and I dread the fact that in a few short months, the three-year birth control implant I got at seventeen will cease to be effective. At some point, I will need to bring up this issue with Julian, but for now I’m trying not to think about it. I’m no more ready to be a mother than I was to be a wife, and the possibility of having that choice forced on me makes me break out in a cold sweat. I love Julian, but raising children with a man who thinks nothing of kidnapping and killing? That’s a whole other matter.

My parents and friends back home aren’t helping. I spoke once with Leah, telling her about my hasty marriage, and her reaction had been shocked, to say the least.

“You married that arms dealer?” she exclaimed incredulously. “After everything he’s done to you and Jake? Are you insane? You’re only nineteen—and he should be in jail!” And no matter how much I tried to spin everything in a positive light, I could tell she got off the phone thinking that my abduction left me a few cards short of a full deck.

My parents are even worse. Every time I talk to them, I have to fend off their probing questions about my unexpected marriage and Julian’s plans for our future. I don’t blame them for adding to my anxiety; I know they’re worried sick about me. The last time we had a video call, my mom’s eyes were red and swollen, as though she’d been crying. It’s obvious that the hastily concocted story I told them at my wedding has done little to alleviate their concerns. My parents know how my relationship with Julian began, and they’re having a hard time believing I could be happy with a man they see as pure evil.

And yet I am happy, my fretting about the future aside. The icy emptiness inside me is gone, replaced by a dazzling abundance of emotions and sensations. It’s as though the black-and-white movie of my life has been redone in technicolor.

When I’m with Julian, I’m complete and content in a way that I don’t fully understand and can’t quite come to terms with. It’s not like I was miserable before I met him. I had great friends, a loving family, and the promise of a good, if unexceptional, life ahead of me. I even had a crush—Jake—who gave me the proverbial butterflies in my stomach. It makes no sense that I somehow needed something as perverse as this relationship with Julian to enrich my life and give me that which I was missing.

Of course, I’m no shrink. Perhaps there is an explanation for my feelings—some childhood trauma that I’ve repressed, or a chemical imbalance in my brain. Or maybe it’s just Julian and the deliberate way he’s been molding my physical and emotional responses since those early days on the island. I am cognizant of his conditioning methods, but my recognition of them doesn’t alter their effectiveness. It’s strange to know that you’re being manipulated, and at the same time enjoy the results of that manipulation.

But enjoy them I do. Being with Julian is thrilling—both frightening and exhilarating, like riding a wild tiger. I never know which side of him I will see at any given moment: the charming lover or the cruel master. And as messed-up as it is, I want both—I am addicted to both. The light and the dark, the violence and the tenderness—it all goes together, forming a volatile, dizzying cocktail that plays havoc with my equilibrium and makes me fall even deeper under Julian’s spell.

Of course, the fact that I see him now every day doesn’t help. On the island, Julian’s frequent absences gave me time to recover from the potent effect he has on my mind and body, enabling me to maintain some emotional balance. Here, however, there is no respite from the magnetic pull he exerts on me, no way to shield myself from his intoxicating allure. With each day that passes, I lose a little more of my soul to him, my need for him growing, rather than decreasing with time.

The only thing that keeps me from freaking out is the knowledge that Julian is drawn to me just as strongly. I don’t know if it’s my resemblance to Maria or just our inexplicable chemistry, but I know the addiction works both ways.

Julian’s hunger for me knows no bounds. He takes me a couple of times every night—and often during the day as well—yet I get the sense he still wants more. It’s there in the intensity of his gaze, in the way he always touches me, holds me. He can’t keep his hands off me—and that makes me feel better about my own helpless attraction to him.

He also seems to enjoy spending time with me outside of the bedroom. True to his promise, Julian has begun training me, teaching me how to fight and use different weapons. After the initial rocky start, he turned out to be an excellent instructor—knowledgeable, patient, and surprisingly dedicated. We train together nearly every day, and I’ve already learned more in these couple of weeks than in the prior three months in my self-defense courses. Of course, it would be a misnomer to call what he teaches me self-defense; Julian’s lessons have more in common with some kind of assassin bootcamp.

“You aim to kill every time,” he instructs during one afternoon session where he makes me throw knives at a small target on the wall. “You don’t have the size or the strength, so for you, it’s all about speed, reflexes, and ruthlessness. You need to catch your opponents off-guard and eliminate them before they realize how skilled you are. Every strike has to be deadly; every move has to count.”

“What if I don’t want to kill them?” I ask, looking up at him. “What if I just want to wound them, so I can run away?”

“A wounded man can still hurt you. It doesn’t take much strength to squeeze a trigger or stab you with a knife. Unless you have a good reason for wanting your enemy alive, you aim to kill, Nora. Do you understand me?”

I nod and throw a small, sharp knife at the wall. It thuds dully against the target, then falls down, having barely scratched the wood. Not my best attempt, but better than my prior five.

I don’t know if I can do what Julian says, but I do know that I never want to feel defenseless again. If it means learning the skills of an assassin, I’m happy to do it. It doesn’t mean I will ever use them, but just knowing that I can protect myself makes me feel stronger and more confident, helping me cope with the residual nightmares from my time with the terrorists.

To my relief, those have gotten better as well. It’s like my subconscious knows that Julian is here—that I’m safe with him. Of course, it also helps that when I do wake up screaming, he’s there to hold me and chase the nightmare away.

The first time it happens is the third night after my arrival at the estate. I dream of Beth’s death again, of the ocean of blood that I’m drowning in, but this time, strong arms catch me, save me from the vicious rip current. This time, when I open my eyes, I’m not alone in the darkness. Julian has turned on the bedside lamp and is shaking me awake, a concerned expression on his beautiful face.