14. Lucia
14
LUCIA
I t feels like it’s taking too long to find the motel.
My eyes keep darting to the rearview mirror of Arseni’s car like he’ll appear behind me, still naked and running to catch up. Which would only be half surprising considering how slowly I creep the vehicle along, paranoid of wrecking or being pulled over by an officer.
My driving experience is limited at best. On my sixteenth birthday, my father was away on business, and one of the guards who’d taken a liking to me seemed to feel pity that I didn’t have much of a celebration. So, out of kindness, he taught me how to drive around our estate. It was fun, and to this day, I still look back on it as one of my favorite birthdays. Even though I never saw that man again and knew even at the time that whatever happened to him was my fault.
I do still occasionally sneak one of the SUVs away when my father is gone, but I’ve only driven at low speeds, and only SUVs. Arseni’s car feels too small, too jumpy, and every tap of the brake makes my body jolt. My nerves help nothing.
But I’ve done it. I’ve escaped my captors.
I keep reminding myself of this, over and over, keep reminding myself that my father is in this city looking for me. Arseni and Luka are no longer the source of danger to be most concerned about, and while I seek out the street the stranger at the gas station told me about, I practice in my head what I’ll say him.
First of all, leaving was entirely my idea. Mario only went along with?—
No, I can’t say that. I forced Mario to come somehow.
How?
I bite my lip as I pull to a stop at a light and wipe one sweaty palm on my lap, then the other.
I fell in love, Papá. So maddeningly in love that I couldn’t possibly bear the idea of being married off to another man. It must be Mario.
That’s a good start. I pull through the green light.
But you see, he knew it could never be. He has nothing but respect for you, Papá, so much that he refused to see me. So I threatened him. I told him I was running away without him, and I would give myself to the first man I met who would take me in. I knew that’s what it would take to force him to come with me.
I let out a shuddering breath and shake my head. That isn’t good enough. Even if it was true, it wouldn’t be good enough.
The fact is, Mario drove me away, and something bad happened. My father will never accept his innocence. He probably already knows the truth anyway. It seems doubtful that Luka’s brother actually saw Mario, though I do believe he saw cartel members looking for me. Mario must be in some dungeon somewhere, bloodied and suffering, the truth spilled from his lips long ago.
It was Mario’s idea to run away. He encouraged me to choose a life for myself instead of accepting the one my father designed. So inventing lies won’t work.
If you kill him, you’ll have to kill me too .
That. That is what I’ll have to say.
I sit up straighter in the seat and press on the gas, my sweaty grip on the wheel tightening. It feels like it takes hours, but the clock on the dash says it’s another ten minutes before the stranger’s directions finally make sense and I see the Budget Inn up ahead that Leo described.
Even more hopeful, I see Mario’s truck in the parking lot.
My lips part, and I hunch over the wheel, a small cry slipping from me as relieved tears spring to my eyes. I park the car right next to Mario’s truck and hurry out, running up to the room directly in front and rapping my knuckles on the door.
The light is off inside, so I’m unsurprised when no one answers. I consider knocking on a few of the other doors, but instead focus on the businesses across the street. Leo said something about a bar.
I spot it immediately. There’s a neon sign with a beer mug on it and no name that I can see. I head that way, my heart picking up speed as I cross the street, afraid one of the cars will have Luka or Arseni in it.
But I’m safe now. I’m safe . I made it.
It’s Mario I need to worry for. At this point, it’s selfish to be thinking about myself.
When I push through the door to the bar, the bell chimes, letting everyone inside know there’s a new visitor. But it wouldn’t be necessary to alert them. My gasp does the job well enough.
I cry out his name the moment I see Mario at the bar, and every head in the establishment turns to me.
When Mario’s eyes find me, they widen to saucers, his jaw dropping. He stands abruptly, knocking his beer over in the process, and opens his arms when I barrel toward him. I fling my arms around him and squeeze, burying my face into his chest as I sob.
“Lucia,” he says, sounding amazed. “Where have you been? I’ve been looking everywhere for you!”
Instead of answering, I just squeeze him tighter until he hugs me back, smoothing his hand down my hair. I breathe in his overly powerful cologne, his scent so unlike Luka’s. As soon as it forms, I recoil at the thought. I should never compare him to another man, certainly not that one.
“Lucia,” he says, pulling me back and holding my face so I’ll look at him. He darts his eyes over me like he’s inspecting me and lands on my bare feet.
What does he see? What will he think when he finds out I’m ruined?
“What happened ?” he asks in Spanish, his voice bordering on stern.
“You were right,” I say, holding back a sob. I take a deep breath and force myself to calm. “American men are dangerous. I was taken by two and held captive. But I escaped.” I lift my chin, forcing pride to display instead of shame, but Mario doesn’t seem to notice either.
He turns to the man standing next to him with a look I can’t discern.
I’m struck by his reaction, or lack of one. So struck I find myself shuffling backward like I’ve been slapped.
Are you okay, Lucia?
Why is he not asking me that?
I turn to the man on his right who looks every bit the description that Leo gave. Shady cartel. A quick glance shows four more guys.
“Where’s Papá?” I ask, my stomach turning.
Something isn’t right.
How is Mario here? How is Papá allowing this?
Maybe they aren’t cartel? Maybe Luka was right, the fact that there’s an obvious bulge from the gun at the man on Mario’s side means nothing. Maybe…
But these men, the aura they put off, the clothing they wear… They aren’t in a gang. They’re cartel. I know they’re cartel.
“I’m sorry, my love.” Mario shakes his head like he’s clearing it. “I’m just trying to wrap my head around this. Are you okay? Did they hurt you? You must be terrified.”
“Where’s Papá, Mario?” I ask, looking around as if he’ll appear. I meet the eyes of another man instead. In them is something that turns my blood cold.
Contempt.
Why? What did I do?
And then I see it. The tattoo on his neck as he turns away and says something to the guy next to him. It’s a symbol. An insignia. A wolf howling at the moon with Mayan symbols surrounding it. Unlike Luka, I recognize this cartel family mark immediately.
And it isn’t my family mark.
The room spins, and for a moment, I think I’m going to pass out.
“He’s away on business. I’ll call him the moment we’re back at the motel. Here, come on.” Mario takes my arm and starts leading me toward the exit. My mind is slow to process, but alarms blare before I can fully comprehend what’s going on.
Do not walk out that door, the alarms tell me .
Do not leave with this man.
Danger, danger, danger.
We’re almost to the door when I stumble to a stop, holding my head as I hunch.
“Are you okay?” Mario asks, his hands caressing my back. The concern in his voice sounds so forced now that I know how fake it is. It takes everything in me not to spit at him.
How many times did I rest my head on this man’s shoulder and sigh at the pretty things he told me?
I am a goddamn fool.
“Yeah,” I say, nodding as I stand. “This is all just too much. I need to use the restroom really quick.”
I turn and walk away before he has a chance to argue. The other men watch, their presence crowding me, and I try not to walk so stiffly due to it. Any moment it feels like they’ll snatch me.
The Mendoza Cartel—my family’s biggest rivals. That’s who these people are, and the people we’ve been in a war with for the past year. Mario knows this, which can only mean one thing… He’s one of them.
This was all a big setup. My grand escape, my new life… Lies. Lies, lies, lies.
There was no love. No affection.
I can’t think about that right now. Escape is even more vital now than it was with Arseni. I still see it as I walk, though, see our relationship over the past month and a half play back to me.
My nose prickles with oncoming tears, making it scrunch.
But I don’t have time. And frankly, it doesn’t matter.
I find the dingy women’s restroom at the back and quickly lock the door, knowing it won’t hold up for long. I look around, searching for a weapon I can store beneath my dress but lock onto the small window just below the ceiling instead.
I have to hurry.
Flipping the trashcan over, I move it beneath the window, then climb on top, cringing at the way it warps, barely holding my weight. But it’ll have to do. The window opens with ease, but before I can attempt to climb out, a knock on the door makes me jump from my skin.
“Lucia? You all right?” Mario calls.
“Yes. I just need a minute, please.”
The doorknob rattles.
“Open the door,” Mario commands, seemingly growing impatient.
My hands find a good grip on the window frame, and with all my might, I pull myself halfway outside. The loud bangs that sound on the door spark panic. I hurry out the window, dropping onto the pavement below just as I hear the bathroom door bursting open. I sprint down the alleyway but barely make it around a corner when a new threat slams into me.
My eyes burst wide when I knock into Luka, and with the way his jaw drops, I’d say he’s equally surprised.
The back door to the bar flies open, making my heart pause. I have a millisecond to decide whether or not to run as their feet start this way.
They have guns, knowledge of the city, numbers, and they can easily have me cornered.
I’m trapped.
I take Luka by his collar and pull him against me, flattening my back against the brick wall while I crash my lips to his and use his body as a shield.
He’s startled by it, I can tell. His body tenses, but as the men round the corner, he must understand what I’m doing because he puts his palms on the wall beside my head and grinds his body passionately against mine.
His tongue prods my lips, demanding access, and I wish I could telepathically threaten him. Wish I could tell him how much our lives are in danger. That this is not the time for his fucked-up games.
But I can’t communicate telepathically, and I don’t dare provoke him to make a sound, so I open my mouth and do the thing I told him I would never do. I kiss him back.
“Mierda!” Mario screams, not ten yards from us. We aren’t the only ones out here. Beside us is a tent and a gentleman lounging outside of it, observing this, I imagine. To our left, on the other side of the alley, a few people stand in a circle smoking. But Mario doesn’t seem to care about any of us when he yells.
“Get everybody on this,” one of the other guys says in Spanish. “Find her.”
He and Mario are the only two who stayed back. The others ran after where they thought I went.
One of Luka’s hands moves to my breast, and I hurry to move it back to shield my face, giving him a pleading look I hope he understands.
He studies me, but I don’t wait long before I close my eyes and kiss him again, allowing my tongue to be the first to pass his lips this time. Anything, anything to help me evade these guys.
The guy must’ve been talking on his cellphone because somebody replies “understood” on speaker. I wonder if they think Spanish is code or something. That nobody can understand it.
“How the fuck did you let her get away again ?”
“Me?” Mario huffs. “You were right there too!”
“What is the boss going to say now, huh? What excuse can you possibly give this time?”
“I spent nearly two months winning that bitch’s trust. I got her to agree to leave her fucking fortress for me. It was your job to find her. I did my part.”
“Yeah, well, it’s your job now. Go .”
Footsteps sound, Mario’s I assume. My lips slow listening to it. The other man makes another call but walks away to speak.
I’m too terrified to move. They’re out there right now looking for me, swarming the area. If I push off the wall, I feel like they’ll see me.
But Luka feels otherwise.
He breaks our kiss and pulls away enough to take out his wallet. The space between us feels too empty, and the urge to pull him back is so strong, I shake.
Luka pulls a few bills out and hands them to the man lounging by the tent, casually peering up at us. “For the shirt,” he says, gesturing to the man’s chest.
The guy looks down, no expression on his face. “You wanna pay me sixty bucks for this shirt?”
Luka nods.
The guy smiles, revealing rotted teeth. “It’s at least worth a hundred.”
Luka’s hand drops. “Jesus Christ,” he mutters under his breath and reaches behind him again, except not for his wallet. For his gun.
When he points it at the man, I suck in a breath, my gaze darting between the two.
“Just give me the shirt.”
With a roll of his eyes and a sigh, the man takes off his shirt and holds it out for Luka while Luka puts his gun away. My face falls with confusion as I watch the weirdly calm interaction.
Luka snatches the article of clothing and tosses the cash on the ground before turning back to me and lifting my dress over my head without warning. I tense but put trust in him I didn’t know was possible. When he hands me the gray, tattered shirt, I immediately pull it on and tug it down like it’s a dress. It’s hideous, but it looks less like me.
“You got a hat?” Luka asks the guy.
“I got a middle finger.”
When Luka says nothing, the guy grumbles and retrieves a ballcap from his tent. Luka puts it on my head then pats my cheek. “Time to go, Peach.”
I follow him through the alley, holding his hand like it’s my lifeline, and the whole thing is so twisted. It doesn’t strike me until we’re in my abductor’s car and driving away that in my mind, I’ve stopped thinking of him as Tall.