Chapter 37
thirty-seven
Natalia
I can’t breathe.
The impact of the explosion throws us to the ground, the area around us engulfed in a cloud of dust that makes it impossible to see more than a couple of feet ahead. My ears ring, my knees knocking together to the beat of my heart. I crawl on the ground, scrambling for cover.
I’m nowhere safe when the bullets start flying.
I knew that by coming here, I’d be accepting the risk of something like this happening.
That didn’t stop me in the moment. But now, each time I blink, I’m thrown back to that disastrous afternoon four years ago.
Bullets rip through the dusty canopy, and I freeze, my chest aching like I just took that fated bullet.
Move, Natalia. Move!
My hands tremble so hard I can barely force them to crawl.
“Get her out of here, Toledo. Now!” His voice cuts through the noise in my head. I focus on it, forcing back a breath, and choking on a garbled scream when a brusque hand wraps around my arm.
Toledo’s face floats before me, a cut on her temple bleeding down her neck. The woman stares at me with laser focus, rifle in hand. Her full lips move, forming words I can’t hear. What—what is she saying?
“Natalia! Let’s go!”
I stare ahead at the spot where Matias was just standing. “Ma…Matias…”
“He’ll be fine. You won’t—we need to get you some cover. Vamos!” I try crawling beside her, I really do. But my head keeps drawing back to the place where Matias was just standing. I just need to know he’s okay. Just one glimpse of him, and then we can leave.
But I don’t get that. Toledo gives me a hurried apology and pulls at me with surprising strength, yanking me to my feet and dragging me into the clapboard structure behind us.
Her boot comes down hard on the rickety door and we crash through the doorway, just in time for the next round of bullets to start flying.
I curse and hit the deck, flinching with each bullet striking the blown-up building.
“Are you okay? Were you shot?” Toledo eases me to the ground, taking a quick scan of my limbs and chest before giving me a satisfied nod. “You’re good, girl. You’re good. Breathe.”
“What happened?” My voice is scratchy from both fear and smoke, and it takes a moment to realize that the smoke is still there. Acrid. Woodsy.
Like the building we’re in is on fire somewhere.
I try to scramble to my feet. “We need to get out of here.”
“Just give it a second.” She holds the radio to her ear. “This is an ambush, Natalia. You called it.” She says, giving me an unhinged smile. “Make sure to rub it in the boss’s face when all of this is over.”
I watch in silent awe, suddenly understanding why Matias put this woman in charge of his security. Toledo is bloodthirsty. Mentally unstable.
And having the time of her life, apparently.
She listens to the reports from her radio, sighing frustratedly with each bit of news that comes in.
I can’t quite understand what they’re saying.
Between the crackling static and the pelting of bullets, I’m surprised Toledo understands anything they’re saying at all.
But the tension in the woman’s shoulder?
Not good?
I jump when a bullet whizzes into the building, hugging my knees to my chest as it strikes an empty stack of crates a few feet away. The scent of smoke grows heavier. I look up, watching as puffs of smoke curl from the ceiling. This crappy little building won’t be here for long—mud floors and all.
“Toledo, we don’t have much time.”
“I know.” She bites her lip, craning her neck to peek through a gap in the wood panels behind us.
“Is he okay?”
She shrugs. “The boss can handle himself.” I roll my eyes. If that were true, I wouldn’t have needed to scramble through the desert to still end up in an ambush. My stomach twists at the realization, that even though I made it on time…I’ve failed.
“You have to go out there.” I tell her. “This building is going to go down, and we won’t have anywhere to take cover.”
“Matias said to keep you safe.”
“I’m safe in here! But you need to go out and help him.” I don’t know where he is. I don’t know if he has cover, or someone to watch his back, or extra bullets in case he runs out. I’m not a soldier.
But the least I could do is not be in the way.
I pull out the gun I shoved into my dress, the one from Santos’ glovebox compartment, waving it in Toledo’s face.
“I’m fine. If someone comes,” I click off the safety and squeeze the grip on my weapon. “I’ll handle it.”
I’ve never shot a soul. I’ve practiced a couple of times, sure, but now? The thought of actually using it makes cold sweat break out on my forehead.
But my face must be convincing enough. Toledo’s eyes fly from my face, to the gun, and back up again, before she climbs up with a firm nod.
“I’ll go get the boss. We’ll be back. Don’t move.” Ironically, it feels like I can breathe a little easier when she leaves. When it becomes evident she’s going to help him, not just sit around hiding in this burning building with me.
I hold the gun close to my chest, savoring the small comfort it brings. Slowly, the cacophony of bullets, explosions, and shouts, begin to slow. I’m not sure if that means the danger is over or just beginning, but in the silence, all I can do is think about what Papa said when I visited him.
Did my mom ever hide out like this?
Did she look at death in the face and decide her love for Papa was worth more than life without him?
If I didn’t come here, Matias would have definitely been ambushed—probably killed with all of his men. And that, well, that’s just not an outcome I’m willing to accept. Is this recklessness what Mami felt?
I’m too busy thinking about her to notice the movement in the far end of the house until it’s too late.
I didn’t even realize there was a door on that end of the house—the sight obstructed by a line of rusted industrial shelves.
But I don’t miss the rustle of bodies, of men moving with stilted movements.
Like they don’t want to be seen or heard.
The faces are new, completely unfamiliar from the men and women I’ve seen these past few weeks, and the realization sends terror down my spine. I stop breathing, shrinking behind the mountain of broken furniture next to me.
“Han escuchado de un juego que se llama ‘capture the flag’?” The voice is crackling and old, and I place it immediately. My heart lurches in my chest, my eyes widening as the voices move further into the house.
“The idea is simple.” Ernesto says placidly, kicking over the crates that just rattled with bullets moments ago.
“The objective is to fight until you have the opportunity to seize the flag—it could be any object, really. It could even be…a person.” He chuckles.
How is it possible to remember the voice of someone I met less than a handful of times so clearly?
“Because, if you capture it, then the game ends. We win.” I wince, the smoke above us growing thicker.
“Find her.” Ernesto says, all traces of mirth gone.
I’m too chicken to peek out from cover. Even if I was as brave as Sylvia, I’m realistic enough to know I won’t be able to take Ernesto and his men. Not when I can barely shoot straight.
Heavy steps stir nearby, just a few feet away, and I glance at the doorway Toledo and I came in from.
It’s a few feet away. But if I haul ass, I may just be able to make it. I bite my lip. Who knows what’s waiting for me out there? Can’t be worse than what is waiting for me here.
That’s the only thought I chant in my head right before I say fuck it, gather all my strength, and dart for the doorway with speed I didn’t know I had.
I don’t get very far.
“There she is!” I ignore the scrambling men behind me, running for the open doorway with all my strength, immediately crashing into a wall of man.
I let out a startled scream, fighting when the crony flanking me tries to pull my gun from my hand.
He’s stronger than me—I know I won’t win a game of tug of war with him, so I squeeze the trigger.
One, two, three times before he pulls it out of my hands with enough strength to rip my arm out of my socket.
My ass hits the dirt floor, hard, and even as I pray I hit someone with my crappy shooting…I know it’s no use.
Fuck. Fuck!
Ernesto descends on me at once.
His face is familiar and new at the same time. The features are the same, but he’s leaner. Eyes harder. Face gaunt, in a way only years in prison looks. Like the life has been sucked out of him.
Before, he made me uncomfortable. Now?
My skin crawls even before he pulls me off the ground by my hair.
“You little bitch. Always making a problem.” He says firmly. My scalp burns, pain searing from my head as he yanks me into his chest.
“When they told me it was you—you—that put us all in prison, I thought they were lying. I mean, if you didn’t want to marry me, you could have just said so, you little cunt.
” I bite my lip, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing me scared even though my legs are so rubbery they threaten to snap right off my body.
He’s lying. Like this man would ever take no for an answer.
“I watched you for a long time. I wanted to make sure I had the right rat before I collected on my blood debt. But then…I realized…I wanted to collect in person. So here I am.” He laughs darkly against my chest, pulling on my hair until I cry out.
“Say something!”
“I…I didn’t know the raid was going to go down the way it did.” I tell him, coughing against the smoke.
“You’re only saying that because you got shot. It’s the least you deserved.” He strokes a hand down my neck, and I want to barf. “I’m happy you survived. Because now, I get to finish the job myself.”
“Please.” I beg, hating the way my voice sounds, but hating the idea of Matias stumbling in here unprepared more. “I can have Matias tell you where the shipment is. You can take it all.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” He snorts. “I already have that. I’m going to take it, of course. I have to do what you failed to do…but I’m going to have my fun with you and your little Romeo first.”
I have to do what you failed to do…?
“Bryce needed the location of the shipment. But he didn’t tell me how to go about it. I don’t like cops, but that agent is alright with me.” My stomach curdles.
If I didn’t have a hand fisted in my hair and two men pointing a gun at my face, I would laugh.
Agent Bryce. He’ll do anything to win. And really, what’s the difference between him and Ernesto if they’re both willing to go to these underhanded ways to get what they want?
The tense exchange is interrupted by the shuffling of collapsing wood from the structure above us. First, a scratch against wood, and then a muted bang.
That sound does little to disguise the sudden pop of bullets.
I scream when the first bullet rips through the air, jumping in Ernesto’s grip.
It all happens so fast, none of his men have a chance to react. Two armed women slink through the entrance I tried running out of, and Matias brings up the rear, a rifle in his corded arms, face glistening with sweat. They go down in seconds, clean headshots making quick work of them.
“Ah! Put that gun down!” Ernesto presses his gun to my head, watching Matias as he stalks further into the building.
I want to cry as I watch him walk closer, not taking it personally when he can’t bring himself to look me in the eye.
As he lowers the rifle in his arms, and Toledo and her soldier do the same.
“You okay, baby?”
I shudder against the words. At the relief his voice brings. “Yes.” The air in the room thickens with some, but no one dares to move.
Ernesto pulls me like a rag doll, chuckling when I wince against him. “She won’t be. Where is it, Rojas?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Matias answers, his tone indicating he knows exactly what the old man is talking about. “Paco has the shipment, doesn’t he? He’s got everything you want.”
“No. No! Tell me where it is, or I’ll shoot her.” The cool barrel of the gun presses against my temple, and I tense at the sensation. I don’t want to die.
But I’ll be damned if Ernesto wins. We don’t have time to sit here and argue—how long do we have until the brewing fire upstairs kills us? I have to act now, or die trying to escape.
Ernesto and Matias are too busy having a standoff, too busy for the old man to notice until it’s too late. I shift to the side, wind up a fist, and swing down with all my might.
Right into his balls.
I only have a second to move. It hurts like a bitch, to pull away from the ragged grip on my hair, but I force myself—to move out of the way even if it feels like my scalp is being ripped clean off.
Matias moves like a blur. His arm cocks at lightning speed, throwing a blade through the air, fast and neat.
It lands cleanly in Ernesto’s neck.
The gun in his hand is long forgotten as he reaches up, wildly clutching at his neck. Blood spurts from the wound, and it’s all I can do to scramble away as he bleeds out before us. Matias is already reaching for me, pulling me into his arms before I gather my balance.
“I have you.” I wrap my arms around him wildly, clinging to him for dear life. “I have you.” He says again, softly, like his hands aren’t coated in dried blood.
Ernesto twitches on the ground, limbs thrashing. After a moment, it stops. His face calms, just enough for him to look at me and smile.
“Ag—Agent Bryce…says…hello.” I freeze, smothering my reaction in Matias’ arms.
“What did he say?” Toledo asks, and I breathe a sigh of relief when Matias says:
“I don’t know. It doesn’t matter.”
We watch Ernesto bleed out for a moment, until it gets hard to see in the building and our eyes water. Matias puts a step between us, standing over the old man with an expression I can’t recognize.
“Natalia, turn around.” He says, tone heavy with finality. Like he doesn’t want me to see this side of him. Like he wants to protect me from this.
I hang my head and wonder who is going to protect him from the monster I just unleashed.