“Luis,” I said, my voice even despite my inner turmoil. “Let’s talk about this.”
Luis’ eyes shone with a fervor I didn’t care for. “Oh, we will,” he assured me. “But not here. I’m taking you home.”
“I’m not supposed to leave him alone,” I said. “I have to call for a nurse.”
“I don’t think so,” Luis said. “Do you think I’m stupid? He’ll be fine.”
With a final, desperate glance back at my sleeping father, I allowed Luis to lead me out of the room.
Luis led me out of the hospital, his grip on my arm an iron vice. “Eyes straight ahead,” he murmured in my ear. “Don’t try to talk to anyone. I’ve still got my gun.”
Terror clouded my mind, threatening to take over, but I pushed it away. I needed to keep my head clear if I wanted to get out of this. Luis was bigger and stronger than I was. I would need to think quickly, there was no time to panic.
“Where are we going?” I asked.
“I told you: we’re going home.”
By “home,” it seemed Luis meant the tiny house we had shared as a married couple, which I hadn’t called home in over a year.
Clearly, Luis hadn’t bothered to keep up with the housework when I’d left; the house was a mess, and smelled vaguely of mold and decay.
Luis locked the front door behind us, finally releasing my arm. I rubbed my skin where he’d gripped me, already feeling bruises starting to form. “Luis, put the gun down so we can talk about this,” I said.
Luis smirked. “Oh, we’ll talk. But I think I’ll hold on to this for now, since it’s clear that’s the only way you’ll listen to me.” He waved the gun toward the couch. “Why don’t you sit down?”
I followed his instructions, furiously going over my options in my mind. I didn’t have many; I couldn’t overpower him, if I tried calling for help, he was liable to shoot me before it arrived. I would have to stay vigilant, wait for my chance.
“You’ve been gone for too long, Isabel,” Luis said. “Look at this house, it’s disgusting. I needed you to take care of it, to take care of me, but you weren’t here. But it’s okay now, you’re back, and you’re not leaving again, are you?”
Oh my God, he’s crazy, I realized with a shock. Luis’ eyes were wide, crazed, and seemed to look right through me. The hand clutching the gun was bone white.
Could I reason with him? It seemed unlikely, but I had to try. Maybe I could distract him long enough to make a grab for the gun. I had to keep him talking.
“You said you wanted to talk,” I said. “What did you want to talk about?”
“Let’s start with where you’ve been,” Luis said. “I want to know what’s kept my wife away from me for so long.”
I decided to give him an edited version of the truth. “I’ve been upstate,” I said. “Working on a piece about a retired pro wrestler. You might remember him: the Beast?”
“So that’s where you’ve been this whole time?” Luis asking, rage causing his voice to shake. “Cooped up in the countryside with some guy?”
“No, it wasn’t like that,” I lied. “I promise. There were other people there, his staff, we were never alone.”
The fight seemed to go out of Luis all at once. His shoulders drooped, and he sank onto the couch next to me. “Just come back to me, Isabel. Promise you will.”
I took a chance. Gently, I placed my hand over his, but I didn’t try to take the gun. Not yet. “Luis,” I said softly, “it’s over. I left.”
“But you were coming back,” Luis said. “That’s what you said. You kept saying you might come back.”
“I never said I would come back,” I said, as gently as I could. Suddenly, Luis tensed, and I knew I’d made a grave misstep.
He pushed me away. “You bitch,” he said. “All this time, you’ve been stringing me along.”
“No, Luis, I swear,” I said, aware that I was quickly running out of time to get control of the situation.
“I bet you did fuck him, didn’t you? The Beast? I bet you let all of them fuck you, you fucking slut. How many men, Isabel? How many men have fucked my wife?”
“Luis, no.” I was verging on hysterical now. “Please, just calm down, let’s talk about this.”
“There’s nothing to talk about.” Luis was shouting now, his eyes wild with rage. “I’m going to kill them. I’m going to kill all of them. You know why? Because you’re mine, and you need to see that I don’t let anyone else have what’s mine.”
He turned toward the door, and I saw my chance. I threw myself at him, reaching for the gun, but he was too fast. He whirled, shoving me to the floor. “I didn’t want to have to do this,” he said, looming over me. Roughly, he hauled me up by the front of my shirt.