Chapter 5
CHAPTER FIVE
TUESDAY. CHIQUIMULA, GUATEMALA
They didn’t even turn on the freaking fans.
Are there any fans?
It was stiflingly hot in the trailer, but with her hands tied behind her back and attached to her ankles, Enya couldn’t roll over to see if there were, or to fan her hands in front of her face to try and relieve the heat.
The heat wasn’t the only thing that needed relieving.
Her belly hurt so badly with the need to pee.
Time had lost all meaning. Despite her resolve to escape, she knew doing so would be almost impossible until she had the use of her hands and feet.
God, please save me.
Daddy, please find me.
What she wouldn’t give for a routine traffic stop. She’d even take a fender bender. Something, anything that would draw attention to the vehicle. Maybe then she and Maria could escape.
It’s hopeless.
It’s not.
She refused to allow the despair that threatened around the edges of her mind to paralyze her into doing nothing to help herself. Enya twisted as much as she could, trying to see the other girl, but couldn’t.
“Maria?” The word came out like a croak, and the corners of her lips were so dry they cracked when she opened them. “Ma-Maria?” She stilled as a faint and uneven sound came from somewhere near the front of the trailer.
Is that Maria?
God, I hope that’s Maria and not one of them.
“I’m here.” Maria’s voice was barely audible and filled with a tremble that sounded as if it bordered on the edge of panic.
Relief at not being in this nightmare alone shifted something deep in Enya’s chest. “Good.” She bit back a sob, and her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth.
“Try to rest. We’ll figure it out when they stop.
” The trailer shuddered from side to side as it went over a bump.
Her shoulder hit the side, sending a shock of pain down her arm.
The zip-tie cutting into her wrists had already carved raw grooves that throbbed with every heartbeat.
She swallowed the cry that rose and turned it into a slow and measured breath.
At least she tried to, but she couldn’t stop the whimper that escaped despite her best efforts.
“Maria,” she whispered again. “Can you move at all?”
There was a long pause, then the sound of cloth dragging against metal.
“A little. My hands are tied in front of me with a plastic thingy you use to keep stuff together.” That was a confirmation that the assholes had used zip-ties.
“Don’t waste your strength yet.” Enya shifted her weight, trying to ease the pressure on her shoulders.
“They have to let us out of here sometime. When they open the doors and cut the ties at our feet, if we are fast enough and they don’t expect it, maybe we can jerk free and run.
” While she frantically tried to remember the steps in the video she’d watched on social media about how to break a zip-tie, she silently prayed her words of reassurance weren’t a pipe dream.
Think, Enya, think.
It was hard to think of anything but how thirsty she was and how much she needed to pee.
We have to have been traveling for hours, maybe even days.
Her bladder ached, her throat burned, and fluid she couldn’t afford to lose in the form of sweat traced lines down her forehead.
She closed her eyes and pictured Rain, his steady breath warm against her palm, the sound of his nickers.
She searched for anything she could use as an anchor to keep herself from dissociating from everything.
She could almost hear her daddy’s voice in her head.
‘Hold your rhythm, and keep your wits about you.’
She’d sell her soul without a second thought to be able to crawl into his lap and hide away from the world for the next ten years.
‘You’ve got this, baby girl.’
The trailer lurched and slowed, and the sudden shift threw her sideways into the wall again. She grimaced at the taste of copper in her mouth as her teeth snapped together from the impact.
Ouch.
But at least we’ve stopped.
Outside, two or three male voices rose over the sound of the idling engine, but she still couldn’t understand what they were saying.
I wish I’d paid more attention to Spanish class in school.
She ignored the stench and forced herself to draw a slow breath through her nose as she pressed her cheek to the floor.
“Don’t make a sound.” She hoped Maria could hear her and that the men outside couldn’t.
The doors creaked open, flooding the space with light.
She squinted painfully against it and struggled to stay perfectly still when every instinct she had screamed that she should try to bolt for the opening.
A shadow fell across her face, blocking the sun, as a man leaned over her to check first one tie, then another.
A grunt of satisfaction followed. She resisted the urge to recoil away from the hand that brushed her foot, lingered, and then withdrew, filling her with an icky feeling and a craving to wash that piece of skin immediately.
“Todo bien,” he called. All okay.
The doors slammed shut again, the sound cracking through the trailer like a gunshot.
Enya jerked at the noise, but the tension in her body eased when the engine fired to life again.
Was it weird to find comfort in the rumbling, low, steady growl of the engine?
Maybe so, but she figured it didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things.
If she wanted to escape this mess, then being calm was a priority.
She flexed her fingers, testing the zip ties again, then shifted her weight and began to rock her body.
She moved from her shoulder, then her hip.
Then her shoulder, and then her hip again, wriggling herself a few inches at a time toward where she thought the other girl lay.
“Maria,” she whispered, her voice as dry as gravel. “Can you move toward me? Maybe we can manage to open the ties. All the ones I’ve seen have a tab; if you can get a fingernail to it, you might be able to open it.”
The faint hitch of breath somewhere to her left was swiftly followed by, “I’ll try.”
Enya rolled over again, inching her spine against the floor, forcing her body through the slow grind of movement that sent fire through her shoulders and knees.
Her limbs screamed, but she refused to let it stop her, and she kept going, even as sweat streaked her face.
Her shoulder brushed something warm that swiftly flinched away from her with a quick, sharp intake of air.
“It’s me.” Enya kept her voice as low as possible.
“See if you can get your fingernail into the opening. If you can, we might be able to get me free, then I’ll do the same for yours. ”
Maria’s hands brushed over hers, then she tugged and pulled at Enya’s wrists. “I can’t see it. I’m trying to do it by feel.”
Please let this work.
Please.
“I think I have it,” Maria whispered. “Try pulling your hands apart.”
Enya held her breath and winced as her skin chafed against the plastic.
Disbelief made her breath catch as the zip-tie loosened and her hands came free.
“You did it,” she softly cheered through the pain shooting around her shoulders and down her arms. She bit back a cry of pain as she straightened her legs and fumbled with the ties around her ankles. “They even took my boots.”
“They tossed them in the corner near the door with my shoes,” Maria told her.
Thank God for that. She could run barefoot if she had to, but escape would be much easier if she had boots on her feet.
“Can you get me free?”
“I’ll try.” Her fingers were numb, the skin slick with blood, but they were hers again. She reached for Maria’s bindings, fumbled for the plastic ridge. “Got it.”
“Ouch, that hurts.” Maria winced, rubbing at her wrists as Enya went to work on her feet.
Relief slammed into her when she managed to open the bindings on Maria’s legs.
But she didn’t take the time to celebrate.
She scrambled across the trailer for their shoes.
She got her boots on by feel, each movement slow and shaky because her fingers were clumsy and swollen from the way the zip-ties had cut into her wrists.
But who cared if she fumbled a couple of times before she managed to wedge her feet into them?
Not me.
Thank fuck I was wearing my comfy Ariats and didn’t put on going-out shoes on my way to dinner.
Running in skinny heels would have sucked so much. At least she knew she could run in the boots she wore to ride.
I have boots, I’ll find a way out.
Her legs were stiff, her back ached, and there was no good way to bend without sending pain across her shoulders, but the boots were on, and she was no longer hogtied; that was enough for now.
Maria sat against the side of the trailer beside her, bent over her sneakers with her hands shaking too hard to do more than loop the strings into a half-knot. Her breath came in short, dry bursts, telling Enya that the girl’s throat was probably as raw as hers.
“Leave them.” Enya caught Maria’s hands when she went to unloop the laces to try again. “If they stay on your feet, they’re good enough.”
“Okay.”
Her heart went out to Maria. No matter how scared she herself was, the younger woman was terrified. “Where are you from?”
“New Jersey.”
It’s a long drive from there to El Paso.