Chapter 72
“What the fuck happened? El Jefe won’t be happy.”
Blinking against the intense light coming from a flashlight roaming over my face, I try to see beyond the glare, but the bright light shines over both Jacinda and Kami, making it hard to see anything other than shadowy figures.
This time, the view beyond the doors is dark.
Kami and Jacinda rouse next to me, and we use each other to help sit up.
Thankfully, they fed us earlier, untying our hands so we could eat.
We all scarfed down burgers from what I could tell was a chain restaurant.
Long gone was the dignity of refusing food.
I didn’t care where they got it. They laughed at how ravenous we were, but neither Kami nor Jacinda nor I paid them any mind.
I wasn’t sure when they would feed us again, and I wanted to conserve my strength.
Angry whispers in more unfamiliar languages erupt beyond the opening of the van.
I turn to Kami, hoping she can understand them.
Her eyes widen and she shakes her head, mumbling “No, no.” Seeing her distress, I wonder what they’re saying.
Hearing scuffling, the bigger man from before is once again staring at us.
“Get them out of there,” he barks.
Another man enters. This one is small, petite, like a small child. But clearly, an adult, given the amount of facial hair and wrinkles on his face.
He crawls toward me, almost timidly, and I wonder if he’ll strike out. But he doesn’t. Instead, he shines the light over us and sneers. “Brutos. Al jefe no le gustará que sus cosas se danen.?”
The hand that touches my face isn’t rough, but gentle as he turns my head. “I am so sorry, senorita. I will fix it.”
Tears leak out of my eyes at his kindness, which is foolhardy. He’s my captor, and his boss is planning on selling us. To whom I can’t imagine, but the horrors of it are very real.
He helps me up and lifts me up, leading me to the open door. He jumps down, spry despite his obvious age. I lick my dry mouth. Clearing my throat, I hoarsely ask. “Who are you? Where am I?”
He doesn’t respond to my questions
“Can you walk?”
“Yes, but what is going on? Why have you taken us?” He doesn’t answer, but I hear the muffled cries of Jacinda and Kamilah behind us. Spinning around, I shout behind me, “Jacinda! Kamilah!” before the gag is put back over my mouth.
I’m escorted forward. I can hear the trees and use my other senses to help me determine my location. I’m estimating, but we were driving for almost six hours. That would put us around Northern New York State. I’m in a forest that’s for sure.
I look behind me to see that Kamilah and Jacinda are also being escorted. Jacinda’s eyes are full of rage, and Kamilah looks around us. I’m sure she’s cataloging everything the way I am. She’s only 19, but handling everything like a pro.
We trudge through the woods for what feels like hours, but is only minutes. I’ve quit trying to figure out where we are or how I would recognize this place. It’s like Stone’s forest, damp, but even more dark, more desolate.
Soon, we are brought up to a large warehouse, and it feels incongruent to be in the middle of the dark woods. Guards walk around the perimeter, and when they spot us, static erupts like a gunshot over their walkie-talkies.
My kindly escort murmurs to me. “Come. You will rest here.” Out of the corner of my eye, I spot Kami and Jacinda. They are moving to the left, and I panic, wondering where they are headed. I dig my sneakers into the muddy ground, shouting behind my gag.
His hands press into my arm, and I wince, bending to his will. “Do not make me hurt you, senorita. Please. I do not want to.”
I mumble around the restriction in my throat. He looks behind him and pulls down the cloth. I lick my dry lips. “Then tell me where they’re going,” I plead.
His sigh is deep, and he stops, whispering to me, making sure his voice doesn’t travel. “They will go to the other building. They will rest there. They will be fed and taken care of.”
There’s something behind his words, something more he wants to tell me, but I can’t figure it out. I nod, watching them be led away. I want to call out to them, but I don’t want to scare them. I have to keep calm. “Okay.”
I let him lead me on. We enter through an open door, and surprisingly, the inside resembles nothing like what I thought it would.
It looks well-organized. The bottom floor is filled with chairs; a living room of sorts.
Men are sitting around, and they stop to stare at me.
Their perusal adds to the nerves racking my body.
I’m led up a set of stairs, and when I trip, my captor keeps me steady.
“You will stay in your room and I will send Cara to help you.”
“Help me with what?” I frantically ask, looking around. This mansion, of sorts, with over 15 men loitering around, is like some bizarre dream. It’s beautiful inside. The floor is gleaming wood, and smells like lemons and furniture polish. Swiveling my head, I clock six doors down the long hallway.
As if I didn’t speak, he continues down the hallway until we are standing in front of a set of wooden double doors.
He turns the knob, and we enter a massive bedroom.
A gigantic bed is in the center against the wall, the sheets are pristine white, and it looks comfortable, but I blanch when I see the headboard.
Handles and chains are hanging from them.
Normally, I would be intrigued, but not when I have no idea why I’m here.
Sex slavery? Kidnapping? Everything is running through my head at such a fast pace that I can’t focus on much more than not having a full-blown panic attack.
I look around. No windows. The room is bare.
No dresser. No closet. There is a toilet in the corner and a sink.
I swallow. There is no privacy. I look up and feel my heart race.
There are cameras in all four corners of the room. Jesus Christ.
The tugs at my hands bring me back from the brink of a meltdown, and I look behind me as he uses a scissor to cut through the zip ties that kept my hands behind my back.
“Please do not try to escape. There are twenty men who will shoot you on sight if you try to escape. Don’t fight it.
You will wait for Cara and then El Jefe will come. ”
El Jefe. The name perks me up. It’s the name of a stinky-breathed man.
“Who’s El Jefe?”
He pauses, and I feel his fingers tremble. Whoever this El Jefe is, this man is clearly intimidated by him.
Finished with my wrists, he tucks the plastic ties in his pocket. I rub my wrists, blood rushes into my fingers, tingling.
“I will send Cara in.” With that, he leaves. I don’t know his name or even if I’ll see him again.
Suddenly, I realize the situation we’re in.
I wonder what if Kamilah and Jacinda are alright.
Are they in similar rooms? They are after me, so it’s my fault they are being hurt like this.
Tears leak down my face. I’ll be sold, or raped, or killed.
I’ll never see Valentina again, or my father, my brothers, or my friends.
And Stone. Slumping on the bed, I close my eyes, tears leaking out.
I think about him. I love him. I love the crazy, moody bastard, and I’m god knows where, unable to tell him.
? Brutes. The boss doesn’t like his things getting damaged.