23. Hope
23
HOPE
W ith its exposed-beam ceiling, rich red-and-gold woven rug, and artwork depicting a historic Mexican village, the beautiful first-floor room Jorge had ordered me to stay in was nothing more than a gilded prison cell. If he kept me stuck in here, I’d be grateful for the small but full bookshelf and the wall-mounted TV above it.
Since there was a guard posted in the hallway and I had nothing better to do, I snooped through the drawers on either side of the huge four-poster bed. It didn’t surprise me to find them empty. So, too, were the dresser and walk-in closet, and aside from towels and toiletries, the en suite contained little of interest. That sucked. It wasn’t like I’d expected to find a pistol or sharp knife, but even a flashlight could become a weapon. I supposed the lamp on the nightstand could inflict damage if swung hard enough.
I swept aside thick ecru curtains and tried the handles on the set of French doors that led out to a small balcony. An amazed gasp escaped me when they opened. No alarms went off—that was a good sign—so I stepped outside.
Already plotting my imminent escape, I glanced over the wrought-iron balustrade to the gardens below. Dammit. The drop to the ground would probably break an ankle or two.
“No te pareces a las putas que Jorge usualmente trae.” You don’t look like the whores Jorge usually brings in. The raspy but feminine voice made me jump.
On the balcony adjacent to mine, a heavily pregnant woman sat in a chair with her bare feet propped on a low coffee table. The mid-length white dress she wore clung to her swollen belly and otherwise slender frame. Long dark locks cascaded over her shoulders in silken waves. She was…stunning. High cheekbones, full lips, sultry eyes—despite the obvious exhaustion in them.
I pressed a palm to my pounding heart. “You scared me.”
The woman brought her red manicured fingernails to her lips and lit a cigarette before tossing the lighter on the table. “If I’m the scariest thing you’ve met in this house, you need to recalibrate your monster radar.” Glancing at her large stomach, she took a long drag and blew smoke into the air. “Don’t judge me. This is the first cigarette I’ve had in thirty-eight weeks. Small pleasures.”
“You must be Jorge’s wife.”
“Gabriela.” She tapped the cigarette over the ashtray, and my gaze landed on the purple bruises circling her wrist. There were fading stripes on the column of her delicate neck, too.
Jorge, you vile son of a bitch.
“You can relax,” she added. “I’m not upset that you’re here to service my husband.”
“Oh, God no.” My nose wrinkled. “I’m not here for that.”
She tilted her head. “Then who are you?”
“Elena. Elena Espinoza Demarco.” That tainted name rolling off my tongue burned like acid.
Gabriela’s brows lifted with the first shred of emotion to cross her expression. Had she always been so apathetic? Or had living in the compound, forever bound to Jorge, numbed her ?
“You look very alive for a dead girl.” Gabriela sucked on her cigarette again while assessing my scars with curiosity rather than revulsion. “Where have you been all this time?”
Since I couldn’t be certain if she felt any loyalty toward Jorge, I stuck with my story. “When everyone thought I’d died, I let them keep believing that. I wanted to live a little without Jorge or my father interfering.”
“Freedom.” Gabriela snorted. “How lovely for you.” She leaned forward and flicked ash from the burning tip of her cigarette again. “You were once promised to Jorge, no?”
“I was.”
“So?” She jerked her chin toward me. “How does it feel?”
I tilted my head, confused by her question.
She gestured to her belly. “To come face-to-face with what your future might’ve been like. If you hadn’t been off enjoying your independence, you’d be sitting where I am now. Carrying the devil’s baby, being his compliant whore and occasional punching bag.”
An all-too-familiar sickness washed over me. If I hadn’t hidden from my family’s expectations, Gabriela would be free, perhaps living her life as peacefully as I had in Playa de la Palmera. My selfish decision had caused this woman’s pain. Would it ever end?
Not until Jorge is dead.
I couldn’t fix the past, but my actions could shape a better future for so many.
Exhaling deeply, I wrapped my sweaty palms around the balcony’s handrail, although the cool iron provided no relief. “I’m sorry, Gabriela. When I decided not to return, I never considered the consequences for whomever would have to take my place. You should never have had to bear this burden.”
Although burden hardly seemed a fitting word to describe the horrors Gabriela must’ve endured over the last three years. She neither accepted nor rejected my apology. I supposed it meant little to her.
“And now that you’re back, what does Jorge plan to do with you?” Gabriela’s eyes came to mine, and when I hesitated to answer, she laughed bitterly. “I see. I’m being replaced. I’d be thrilled about that, except I know how Jorge handles complications.” She took another long drag. “He’s going to kill me, isn’t he?”
Lying seemed pointless, but what was I supposed to tell her? That her asshole husband cared so little that he was ready to put a bullet in her brain to make room for me? It repulsed me how easily he’d made that decision.
Finally, I found my voice to say what we both already knew. “Yes, that’s Jorge’s plan.”
“And the baby?” She placed a hand over her stomach.
“He’ll wait until after it’s delivered.” Her relieved expression almost broke my heart. “I don’t want to marry Jorge. I didn’t come back for that.”
She lifted one impeccably shaped brow. “What did you come back for?”
Could I tell Gabriela my plans? She didn’t like Jorge any more than I did, but could I trust her not to rat me out to gain favor with her husband? After all, if I were out of the picture, perhaps Jorge would let her live.
“I came back to see my father.”
She grunted. “And now, even the once-powerful Carlos Espinoza can’t save you from Jorge’s twisted games. Looks like you’ll be spending the rest of your days in this hellhole, too. I don’t know whom I feel sorrier for. You or me. You should’ve stayed away when you had the chance.” Gabriela leaned back in her chair and crossed one ankle over the other.
A bird of prey circled overhead, capturing our attention when it dove toward its quarry.
My gaze returned to Gabriela, although hers had drifted to the high wall surrounding the compound. Sunlight glinted off the razor wire that corkscrewed along the top of the fortification. What kept others out also had the undesirable side effect of keeping us locked within, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out that Gabriela would very much prefer to live on the other side of that wall.
“Why do you seem so calm about this?” I asked.
She shrugged her shoulder. “I always knew Jorge would kill me some day. Not so long ago, I prayed for it. Then I got pregnant, and my perspective shifted.”
I wanted to tell Gabriela my plan to kill Jorge and escape. Maybe she’d be willing to help since she had nothing to lose. She knew the layout of the compound and understood how it operated. Hell, she probably knew how many guards roamed the property, and their routines. I couldn’t collect that intel even if I stayed for a month, and Gabriela didn’t have that long. The baby would come before then.
Bringing her into the fold was a risk, but we stood a better chance of escaping if we worked together. Besides, I didn’t want to leave Gabriela behind, so very soon I’d have to explain my true reason for being here.
I’d decided. It was time to take a leap of faith.
I nodded to the room behind me, where a guard stood outside the door. “Is it safe for us to talk here?”
“There are cameras, but they can’t hear our conversation. We can speak freely.” She shifted in her seat as though eager to come nearer.
“Good.” I tucked my hair behind my ears. “I’m not staying.”
Gabriela clicked her tongue. “Jorge will find you. I should know. I tried to leave once before. Big mistake.”
“He won’t find me if he’s dead.”
A short burst of laughter conveyed her skepticism. “You and what army are going to accomplish that?”
Her question made me think of Vaughn and the team. Now that I understood the complexities of the situation—the orphans, Gabriela, the underground narco army—I was glad they couldn’t find me. It didn’t stop me from missing Vaughn and wishing I could talk to him, tell him I was fine and I’d find my way back to him soon.
I straightened my spine. “No army. Just me.”
“You think you can kill el Se?or del Dolor?” Gabriela lowered her voice as if saying Jorge’s well-deserved moniker aloud might make him appear. “Do you know how many men have tried?”
“Then it’s lucky I’m not a man.”
“Jesus. You’re serious?” She shook her head. “You have some balls on you, Sister.”
“What choice do I have? What choice do we have? Are you just going to wait until your child is born and let that son of a bitch murder you?”
Gabriela took one last drag on her cigarette and stabbed it into the ashtray. “There are fates worse than death, Elena. You and I both know what my husband is capable of. A bullet to the head from Jorge could be considered an act of kindness. Anyone who wrongs that man ends up begging for death. I’ve seen it with my own eyes.”
I swallowed deeply, knowing she was right. “But if there’s even a chance of escaping, don’t you think it’s worth a shot?” When Gabriela didn’t answer, I added, “Please. I need your help.”
She stared at her belly while running her palm across it. “I’ve had no choice in any of this. Living here, marrying Jorge, having his baby. And now you turn up and tell me there’s a chance to be free of this place for good. That maybe I can raise my baby somewhere safe.” Her eyes came to mine. “You have to understand that I haven’t for one moment allowed myself to dream of a happy future for my daughter and myself. I’m scared to have hope. ”
Hope . The name Daphne had once given me when I’d lain unconscious in her clinic, my life hanging in the balance. After she’d patched up my injuries and stabilized me as best she could, all she could do was hope I’d survive.
I wouldn’t let Dee’s efforts to keep me alive be for nothing. I was going to make it out of here, and so was Gabriela.
“There are people counting on us.” I pointed toward the orphanage. “Those little girls have no clue what terrible future awaits them, and the cartel steals women from the streets and sells them to the highest bidder all the time.”
Gabriela pressed her lips together. “I was one of those women once, you know? My father was a detective who refused to be bought. Jorge’s sicarios murdered him and took me as further punishment for my family. They were about to smuggle me onto a ship when I caught Jorge’s eye and he decided to keep me.”
“So you understand why taking down Jorge will impact so many more lives than just ours.”
Gabriela picked at a fingernail and stared down toward the manicured gardens. Then her gaze cut to mine. “Okay. I’ll help you. But what use am I in this condition? I’ll only slow you down.”
“I won’t ask you to do anything dangerous. The last thing I want is to put you or your baby at risk. I just need information about the layout of the compound and the men guarding it. And when the time comes to execute my plan, I may need a distraction.”
She nodded. “I can do that.”