Chapter Eleven #2
It hadn’t been too difficult to find out where the bartender lived, a simple matter of waiting for the regulars to arrive at the bar and then waiving large American bills.
All citizens of dusty countries understood the value of the dollar.
American money represented an American life, a chance to pursue a future deserved rather than destined.
It was a future worthy of stealing, killing, and selling one’s soul.
Caleb couldn’t help but scoff at how easy it had been to find her.
He had told her not to be found and he had meant it. Once again, she had not listened.
Instead, Caleb had successfully honed in on his target.
There was, within him, a sense of victory.
But there was something else, too. Conflict.
Always conflict when it came to her. What would he do when he saw her?
Beat her? Scream at her? Spank her until she wept and begged for mercy or cover her in kisses that would cause the same?
He never knew with her, not until the moment took over him, controlled him.
He walked back to the plantation, in no rush to collect his prize.
Victory and anger aside, he did not relish any of the things he might have to do next.
He hoped the bartender didn’t have a family.
He hoped his Kitten would come without added agitation.
He hoped there would be no one to kill. Still, he doubted each of these scenarios. So he walked. No rush.
As he listened to the warm dirt crunching under his boots, he stared out at the landscape of the village.
Not far beyond, lay the city. She was out there, beneath one of those many homes made of sand, clay and lime, sweating under a rusted tin roof.
There were hundreds of them, sprawling out before him on into the horizon, but it didn’t matter.
The city could appear large, but it was very small in every way that mattered.
Poverty bred despair and despair bred corruption and corruption would guarantee him safe haven.
No matter what happened this night, Caleb would return and not empty-handed.
The heel of his boot hit the ground with a hard crack. She never turned back. Not once. She’d just run away from him. His ire rose. “‘Do I feel lucky?’ Yes, Kitten, I feel very lucky.” He picked up his pace. It was best to strike while his anger was hot and his passion ice cold.
***
The sun beat down on my shoulders, though it was early evening.
Dust covered my body from head to toe and filled my mouth as we tore up the road on Tiny’s motorcycle.
Javier had provided me with one of his wife’s dresses to wear.
Unfortunately, she was a somewhat larger woman and the dress did little better than the nightgown.
But it was black and that was good. I put it on over the nightgown and put on Caleb’s jacket.
It was cold comfort compared to what could now happen to me.
Nicole had come through. Or at least she’d promised she would.
The moment I heard her voice I had burst into tears of relief and pure joy.
She’d cried, too. Through the grainy connection I listened to her strained voice explain how she’d never thought I’d run away, not without her.
She also made it clear my mother had no such faith in me.
In fact, she held Nicole completely responsible for my disappearance, demanding that the police pull her in for questioning and force her to give up my whereabouts.
When that didn’t work, because there was no indication of foul play—my books were never discovered—and I was eighteen, she had gathered up all my stuff and dumped it on Nicole’s front lawn.
My mother had yelled at Nicole, called her a whore and self-serving rich girl.
She had called me worse. My heart sunk into my stomach, extinguishing some of my joy.
Maybe Caleb had been right. Still, Nicole reassured me she would make everything right, call my mother and explain.
I told her not to bother. She hadn’t given a damn about me.
In some ways, right now, I fucking didn’t care.
I wanted to live. I wanted out of this hell.
What I needed was cash, lots of it. A hundred grand to be exact.
“Holy shit Livvie! How am I supposed to get that kind of money? My parents are on a cruise right now.” Not what I needed to hear.
I had looked up at Tiny and Javier, one of them looked expectant, the other worried his eye on the door.
I wish it had been only Javier at the bar, he seemed more malleable, but then again, he also left me there to be captured.
“I need that money, Nick. Please,” I said.
My voice was high and almost screeching.
“I don’t know what he’ll do to me.” That quieted her and she was in the middle of telling me something when Tiny took the receiver and made it very clear what would happen to me if she didn’t come through.
Everywhere I turned these days I was someone’s property.
He looked down at me. I should have called the cops. However, I knew since my own mother had failed to help me, it was all too likely the cops would care even less. Especially in a poor, drug-run country like Mexico. I had a choice between bad, worse and excruciating. It was no choice at all.
“We’re leaving—now.”
I didn’t bother asking where. We drove, too fast for me to consider jumping off, but I still had a small sliver of hope that this fucked up plan would work, and I’d be free. As Tiny’s bike slowed down, my heart sped up.
We were headed toward Chihuahua. Nicole would meet us there tomorrow night with the money.
How she was going to do it I had no idea.
Worse, I didn’t know if she could do it.
I only knew she had told Tiny she’d be there with the money.
If she was bluffing, it didn’t matter, she was buying me time.
But first we had to make a stop and pick up the rest of Tiny’s “gang.” I was not at all excited to meet more people like Tiny, but as usual, I had no choice and no say.
I pulled Caleb’s jacket closer to my body.
Traveling more slowly, his scent wafted up to my nostrils, pulling my thoughts toward him.
What would happen now? Was he looking for me?
And why did the idea fill me with both a sense of dread and hope?
Hope for what? For a moment I wished I had just lain in the bed next to him, given him a chance to be kind.
Perhaps he would have let me go eventually.
I blinked, hard. You did the right thing, Livvie. This can work, it can.
As we pulled up to the run-down house I heard several voices laughing, shouting, or making chatter as loud rock music filled the air. I wobbled and nearly fell when I got off the bike. Tiny laughed as he walked to the door.
“Watch yourself little girl, you don’t want that bike fallin’ down on you.” I didn’t think it was too damn funny.
He opened the door to the house and let out the only thing more overwhelming than the music: the smell of Marijuana.
I stood outside, lamenting every decision I had ever made to lead me here, and then I stepped through the doorway.
All conversation came to a halt. Nine bikers, one of them a young woman, turned to stare at me.
I tensed at their blatant scrutiny, most of them confused, and some of them seemingly aroused.
“Everybody, this is Jessica,” Tiny introduced me, sounding happy and counting his cash in his head most likely.
I decided to use a fake name, for no other reason than I didn’t want anyone to know my real one.
“Nobody fuck with her,” he looked at me lasciviously, “unless she wants to be fucked with.” Still silence, except for the long version of “November Rain” blasting through crappy boom box speakers.
I shrank further inside Caleb’s coat, another comforting whiff of him, another regretted decision.
This whole fucking thing was twisted irony.
Tiny turned to me, finishing the introductions, “Jessica, this is Joker, Smokey, Casanova, Stinky, Boston, Abe, Hog, Kid, and his bitch, Nancy.”
Who the fuck cared? I sure didn’t. I just stared blankly at all of them, at none of them.
Nancy just gave a snide look, as if I called her a bitch as a greeting.
I said nothing. Growing up poor and in LA taught me something.
You can’t look weak, but you can’t look too defiant or someone could take it as a challenge.
And fuck with me. I flicked my gaze around, holding only a few of the eyes briefly before just staring off, not responding and just giving an indifferent and vague nod of acknowledgment.
I wish Caleb had taught me something more valuable than how to withstand a strong hand on my ass.
I almost laughed, feeling hysterical for a moment, and bit down on my tongue.
I was not going to freak out, not when I needed to be aware.
“Nancy, why don’t you take Jessica here and get her something to eat before we pack up and ride out. I want to make it to Chihuahua by night fall.”
Nancy rolled her eyes at Tiny and then looked at me for a moment before saying, “Well come on then.”
Nancy and I went down a small hallway into another little room.
Inside, a few dirty airbeds and small piles of clothes that seemed to also serve as sheets and pillows lined the floor.
She angrily kicked at the clothes in her way and headed toward the corner of the room to the bed covered in clothes, make-up, hairspray and individually wrapped condoms. I looked away, saying nothing.