Page 89 of Invisible String (The Underground #1)
RAINEY
“ M i amor, it’s been a week. Wake up, come back to me,” a faint husky voice says far away.
I can’t make out the voice. Where am I? Beeping?
Darkness overcomes me.
My mind spins, taking me back to the men who took me. Fear. Desperation. Anxiety. Loneliness. I step out of a black SUV. It looks familiar, a warehouse that almost looks abandoned. A man with tattoos on his neck whispers, “Maybe I should fuck you before I hand you over.”
I make a face of disgust. It’s a bad idea, but I kick him. Everything happens so fast. Max’s voice falters in the background as my head hits the concrete, splitting my head in half.
Déjà vu, but I can’t remember where I’ve felt this frightened before.
Then I fade away into darkness.
Warm, familiar hands cover mine. My body is numb. I can hear and feel, but I can’t move.
“The swelling has gone down. Her body is healing. In no time, she should wake up,” a man says.
I must be in the hospital. I hear the beeping of machines, which is a familiar sound.
“Is there a chance she’s lost her memory? She’s been in and out of consciousness these past three days. She lost her memory years ago and never regained her childhood memories from her last trauma.”
Max. His voice is so close. I want to squeeze his hand and tell him I remember him. My hands don’t move.
“There’s no telling,” the doctor says.
“I see. Thank you,” Max replies.
A door shuts, and soft lips brush my cheeks.
“I love you. Wake up, sleeping beauty. We have so much to do. Like getting married and having kids. How about vacations? I’ll take you anywhere in the world. Yeah.”
I want to tell him I love him and I’m sorry I walked out on him. I should have told him where I was going. Then this happened.
My head throbs, and my inside feels bruised.
“I’m sorry this happened to you,” he whispers, squeezing my hand. “Can you hear me, sunshine?”
Sunshine. Sunshine. Your name was Sol.
I vividly remember the conversation at the gala. “Who taught you how to dance?”
Max responded, “My best friend.”
“What was her name?”
“Sol.”
My memories slip into a tunnel of darkness. I’m no longer at the hospital. I don’t hear Max, but I hear a soothing voice.
“It’s your first day of kindergarten, Sol. Are you excited?” Her brown hair, which looks like copper in the sun, blows in the wind.
I nod, twirling my pink polka dot dress. “I’m so excited, Mom.”
My dad kneels, grinning at me. “My princess is a big girl now. Don’t talk to boys, they have cooties.”
My mom throws her head back, laughing, then smacks my dad on the shoulder playfully.
“Alejandro,” she scolds him.
“What’s cooties?” I ask.
“Germs. Boys have germs,” Dad says.
I make a face. Gross.
My dad gives me the biggest hugs in the world, like he can’t let go. Maybe it’s because of work that he has to leave for long periods of time, but he always wants to give my mom and me bear hugs.
“I love you, baby girl.” Dad swallows hard. I think he might cry.
Mom takes my hand and leads me into the classroom, where the kids sit on the red fluffy carpet. She then kisses me and waves bye.
I smile big because I’m a big girl now.
Another distant memory surfaces.
I’m eight years old today. Mom’s throwing me a party. I’ve also joined a new dance class, and I love it. I turn on the music in my room and dance. My feet guide me to the rhythm of the music. This song is upbeat. I dance like the woman in those music videos. I shake my body, then my butt.
“Sol?” My dad walks in and cocks his head. “What are you doing?” My dad came back from the military for two months. He’s going back and will be gone for much longer. My heart hurts when he leaves. I miss him, and my mom gets so sad.
“Dancing, Dad.” My tone comes out sassy. “I’ve been watching the girls dance in those music videos.”
He rubs his chin. “Ahh, I think those types of dances are not for a young girl. How about country dancing, salsa, cumbia, or waltz? Hell, even some slow dances, twirling, ballet. Anything but those dances where you shake your booty.”
I groan, then nod. He changes the station and puts his hand out. “May I have this dance, my eight-year-old princess?”
“Yes, of course, sir.” I giggle.
My dad laughs. The song “Butterfly Kisses” by Bob Carlisle plays. I step on my dad’s boots. He guides me until I get the hang of the steps. My mom walks in grinning. She’s so beautiful. Mom leans in the doorway and sings the song. My dad shoots her a wink, and she blushes.
When I grow up, I want to marry someone who loves me like my dad loves my mom.
After that song, another plays, and my dad puts his hand out for my mom to take.
“My two favorite girls,” my dad says as he spins Mom, then bends her back. He gives her a kiss on the lips, and I’m out the door, making a face of disgust.
My mom left the cake batter on the table. I dip my finger and taste the chocolate goodness. My mom is really good at making cakes from scratch, none of the box stuff.
Five minutes later, heels click on the tile. “Sol, what are you doing, mija? You’re going to get a tummy ache.”
“Hungry, Mom.”
“You nearly ate the cake batter.” She sighs, and now I feel bad. “I’ll make you a quesadilla.”
“Sorry.”
“No, it’s okay. I’ll make more. It’s no biggie. I love baking. I just didn’t want you to get sick.” Mom caresses my cheeks lovingly. Just like always, I bathe in it.
“Thank you. I’ll go help Dad decorate.”
In an instant, those precious moments slip through my fingers. Before I can grasp them with my heart to make sure I’ll remember when I wake, I fall into a tunnel of darkness.
I want to scream so loud my heart hurts so much.
A man in the same uniform as my dad knocked on our door.
Mom said to go to my room, but I didn’t listen.
The man apologized to Mom. He said my dad is gone.
She’s rocking back and forth on the living room floor.
I sit beside her and wrap my arms around her waist. She holds me tight while we both sob.
“Is she okay?” a man yells.
Max.
My eyelids are heavy, and I realize I’ve just come out of unconsciousness. I seem to drift in and out. “Her heart rate spikes, then stabilizes,” Max informs, who I assume is the doctor.
“She’s stable now. This is normal with head injuries.”
“Max, do you want me to stay? You haven’t left, and you need to rest. If she wakes, I’ll call you immediately.” Lana’s voice comes out soft.
“I showered here. Thank you. I’m good.”
“Okay. I’ll go get you something to eat. Isabella and I are going to get food.”
“Thank you.” Max’s husky voice aches. Max’s feather-light kisses on my knuckles give the only reaction I can give him.
“You felt that, didn’t you, sunshine? Can you lift a finger?”
I try, but I can’t. It’s the worst feeling to be trapped inside.
“It’s okay, baby. Those goosebumps let me know you felt me.
” A kiss on my cheek. “You know, back when we were at the cabin, when I first saw you there, I thought I was hallucinating. I tried to pretend I didn’t remember you because I was terrified of getting close to you again.
It hurt to feel, and felt better to numb it.
In Rainey fashion, you broke down my walls. ” He laughs.
A wet splash of water cools my skin. Is he crying? No, Max doesn’t cry.
“You saved me. So many times. You probably don’t know how many.
” His voice cracks. “You loved me. When I didn’t love myself.
You taught me to love repeatedly. I always asked myself, ‘how do I love her when I don’t love anything about myself?
’ But not you. You loved me as Rainey. The guy who was afraid of being touched, the guy who was closed off.
You loved every version of me.” He clears his throat.
“I guess I’d better stop with the sappy stuff. ”
Max Cano has always been my entire world, even when he didn’t know it.
The shadows envelop me, pulling me into a deep, unyielding oblivion.
My chest feels as though a thousand anvils are pressing relentlessly against it, each breath a struggle against the crushing weight.
Vivid flashes from my childhood dance through my mind—a kaleidoscope of vibrant images.
I see the sunlit afternoons spent chasing butterflies in the garden, the sound of my mother’s laughter ringing like a melody, and the smell of freshly baked cookies and bread wafting through the kitchen.
My dad’s perfect smile, building me a playhouse.
These memories swirl around me, a comforting tapestry of the past amidst the looming darkness.
Tears fill my eyes with the most heartwarming memories.
I’m struggling to absorb it all. It’s overwhelming.
Am I dying? Is this why my memories are coming back? Is this the afterlife? Or did the trauma bring up the past trauma? Hell, if I should know, but I don’t want to let go. I want to treasure it all.
Pain, bone deep, has me thrashing.
“Rainey!” A voice. Max. That’s who it is. “Doctor, something’s happening. She’s shaking.”
It happens again. I slip into darkness.
“I can’t take care of you, Sol. My memory is not good,” my grandma says. Mom had said she had Alzheimer’s. My heart hurts so badly. My mom is gone, and my dad.
“Where will I go?” My voice cracks. My aunts and uncles are not close to my mom and dad, and they didn’t want to take me.
“I’m sorry, Sol. They won’t let me because it’s dangerous with my head not straight. A woman will pick you up. They will take you to a home.”
I nod as she wipes my tears.
My hands shake as I walk into a home. It’s nice, but my heart hurts. I’ve never been away from Mom. She said never to talk to strangers. Now I have to live with a stranger.
I’m scared.
Two boys walk up to introduce themselves. I wonder if they lost their parents, too?
Max is his name—the boy with sad green eyes.
“Do you know how to play checkers and chess?” I ask Max while taking a bite of my apple.