3. Evelyn
Fear seized my mind in a vise grip before I stirred to full consciousness. Disjointed, horrific memories flickered through my thoughts in a nauseating film reel.
Darkness. Terror. Pain. Hands groping at my body, violating me while I was bound and helpless. Unable to move or scream for help.
George. They wanted to kill my fiancé. They were using me as bait to lure him into a trap.
I jolted upright with a gasp, and pain knifed through my skull. The overly bright world swirled around me, and I fell back onto the pillow.
I was laying on something soft, not damp concrete. My head pounded, but no further agony was inflicted as punishment for my struggles. My hands twitched at my sides, jerking against the phantom restraints that no longer bound me.
“George.” I moaned his name, fear for him saturating my thoughts.
“I’m right here.” His warm, familiar hand settled gently over mine, the barest brush of his palm against my knuckles.
“George.” This time, his name was a harsh sob. I turned my hand so that I could clutch at him, holding on like he was my lifeline.
“You’re safe now,” he promised, his voice tight with suppressed anger.
I blinked hard, forcing my heavy lids to open so that I could find his steady blue gaze. His soft navy eyes filled my world, and I quickly dashed away the sting of tears before my vision blurred. I couldn’t lose sight of him.
My wrist ached as I moved to wipe the wetness from my cheeks, and I noted the thick white bandage that encircled it. I glanced down at our entwined hands and saw that both wrists had been similarly dressed; the wounds inflicted by the cruel cable ties had been treated.
The bright, clinical lighting and slightly harsh, sterile scent in the air told me that I was in a hospital. Not a dank basement.
“You saved me,” I rasped, my throat still hoarse from screaming.
Fine lines of strain tightened around George’s mouth, his expression turning stony. “You’re safe now,” he repeated.
“How did you find me? Those men. They wanted to kill you.” I jolted upright again, wincing at the sudden stab of pain through my skull. I breathed through it and frantically appraised him, searching for signs of injury. “Are you hurt?”
“No, baby. I’m fine.” He reassured me, but he remained tense. I sensed an intangible distance between us, the one that separated our hearts when he was in one of his particularly prickly moods.
“But how…?” I clutched at his hand more tightly, desperate to pull him closer and bridge the invisible barrier between us. “What happened? The last thing I remember…”
I trailed off on a shudder, not wanting to think about the awful ordeal. The phantom taint of the man’s hands pawing at my breasts made my stomach twist, and nausea rolled through me.
George’s long fingers finally gripped mine with equal force. “I need you to tell me what happened,” he said, voice still tight with barely leashed, volatile emotion. “You were late coming home to make dinner, and the next thing I knew, I was getting a phone call saying you’re in the hospital.” He raked a hand through his sandy blond hair. “They told me they found you in a basement with two dead men. Someone put in an anonymous emergency call to get an ambulance to your location. What the hell happened?”
My heart pounded with remembered terror, but I forced my mind to focus on the fear-drenched memories in order to puzzle out my situation. George needed the information so that he could go after the men who’d taken me. He just wanted to protect me.
I reached out and traced the line of his granite jaw, trying to soothe away his tension. “I’m okay,” I promised. “I’m with you now.”
He blew out a long breath and turned his face into my touch, so he could brush a kiss over my palm. “I didn’t know where you were,” he admitted, his voice shaking slightly. “You scared me, baby.”
“I’m okay,” I repeated, drawn to comfort him. I hated the thorny mood that’d created a painful gulf between us. I needed him now more than ever. “Hold me?” I asked, my voice small and embarrassingly weak.
He sighed again and wrapped his arms around me, drawing me into a careful embrace. I shuddered as the residual horror of my ordeal washed through me, and my tears wet his shirt. I buried my face in his chest and clutched at him, weaving my fingers through his thick, wavy hair to hold him close.
His heartbeat was strong and steady beneath my ear, the beat reassuring me.
Alive. George was alive, and so was I.
“What happened, Evie?” he asked, more gently this time.
“I…” I swallowed the acid tang on my tongue and forced myself to remember. “I was on my way home from the university after I finished my classes for the day.”
George’s hand tightened around mine. “I told you not to walk on your own,” he reprimanded.
“I was only going to the bus stop,” I said, a bit defensive. I hadn’t defied George’s warnings and wandered through the unfamiliar streets by myself. I knew the route to work using the bus, but I wasn’t confident navigating Mexico City on foot; George was too busy with work to show me around, and it would be stupid of me to risk getting lost on my own. The cartels might know my fiancé’s job with the DEA and target me.
A shudder wracked my body. That was exactly what had happened.
“Who took you?” he demanded. “Which cartel was responsible?”
“I…” I searched my dark memories for any clues about the identities of the men who’d taken me. “I don’t know.”
His lips thinned. “You’re fluent in Spanish, Evie. You teach English at the university for god’s sake. You must have been able to understand what they were saying around you.”
“They drugged me somehow. And when I woke up, I was blindfolded and gagged. They didn’t talk to me,” I blurted in an awful rush of remembered terror. “All they talked about was how they were going to use me as bait to get to you. They wanted to kill you, George.”
I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, clinging to him so that I could continue to feel his heartbeat against me. It quickened with anxiety for my distress, but his hold on me remained firm and reassuring.
“But who were they?” he insisted. “I have to know, baby. It’s the only way I can protect us. I can arrest the men responsible, and we’ll be safe.”
I shook my head against his chest. “I don’t know. I’m sorry. I don’t know.”
His strong arms flexed around me. “How did those men end up dead in that basement with you? Who called for the ambulance?”
Guilt twisted my gut. “I don’t know,” I said again, useless. “I couldn’t see any of them. They said…”
“What did they say?” he prompted when I hesitated.
I forced myself to sort through the jumbled memories of agony and fear. “There were two men with me in the basement, and then a third man spoke. He asked if I was innocent. He seemed angry.”
A shudder raced through me as the feral roar of rage echoed through my mind. Despite my residual terror, I knew deep in my bones that the third man had saved me. He’d killed his associates and set me free.
“Then one of them…hurt me,” I forced myself to say, skipping over the part where they’d tried to violate me. George didn’t need to know about that. It would only upset him more.
I gingerly touched the aching spot on my forehead. “I blacked out. I don’t know what happened after that. The next thing I knew, I was here with you.” I hugged him impossibly tighter. “You’re alive.” My voice hitched, and fresh tears wet his shirt.
They hadn’t killed my fiancé. He was warm and vital in my arms, heart beating steadily once again.
“You scared me, baby,” he confessed, a rare moment of vulnerability.
Guilt clawed at me. “I’m okay,” I promised again. “I’ll be more careful.”
“I should keep you at the apartment,” he rumbled. “I never should have agreed to allow you to teach at the university.”
“We need the money,” I countered. We were saving to buy our own home back in Albuquerque one day. We were partners, and I had to contribute to our future.
He grimaced. “I don’t want you going anywhere alone anymore. It’s not safe for you here.”
For a brief, selfish moment, I hoped he was going to declare that we were returning to New Mexico.
But I couldn’t allow him to abandon his aspirations with the DEA. George had always wanted to be in law enforcement, to be a force for good in this world. I had to support that noble dream.
“I’ll be more careful,” I vowed.
He pulled away from me, a small frown twisting his lips with disapproval. “Be honest with me, Evie. You weren’t going straight to the bus stop, were you? You were taking pictures again.”
The awful truth pierced my heart. I had paused to take some photos as I strolled to the bus stop. I’d promised George that I wouldn’t go out into the city with my camera like I would when I’d lived in Albuquerque, but sometimes I saw the perfect shot, and I pulled out my phone to capture the moment.
“I just stopped for a few minutes,” I protested. “I didn’t wander through the streets or anything.”
But even as I spoke, my cheeks heated with shame. This was all my fault.
My distraction had cost me dearly. I’d let my guard down to indulge my art, and I’d made myself an easy target.
My dreams of being a professional photographer had always been foolish, and now, playing pretend had almost cost George’s life.
“I won’t do it ever again,” I swore. “I’m sorry.”
He blew out a long sigh, and the frown mostly eased from his handsome features, his expression mercifully softening. “I know you won’t. I think you know better now and will take my warnings seriously. Won’t you?”
I nodded quickly. “Yes,” I agreed. “I won’t mess up again. I won’t put you in danger, George.”
He brushed an approving kiss over my aching forehead, and warmth settled over me despite the brief flicker of pain. George was with me, and we were both alive. Safe.
I would do anything to protect him, even if that meant giving up my small pleasures. I could go back to my photography hobby once we moved back to the States. It wasn’t as though I would ever make a career with my art. It was just a silly way I liked to express my irrepressible creative streak. It’d always been an impractical indulgence, and now, it’d almost gotten both of us killed.
I would be more vigilant from now on.
“You should quit your job,” he said, and cold panic pulsed through me. “Your small paycheck isn’t worth risking our lives.”
“No!” I took a breath to calm my nerves. “Please, George. I can’t just stay in that apartment all the time.”
I wasn’t particularly extroverted—George was the only real friend I’d ever had—but the apartment was small and cramped. The dangers of the city hemmed me in even more. I couldn’t bear to be trapped inside, locked away from the beauty and the ugliness of the world. All facets of humanity fascinated me. Even if I was apart from the emotional bonds most people easily enjoyed, I was able to observe it all through the lens of my camera.
“You wouldn’t be in the apartment all the time. We’ll still go to the market together,” George allowed.
The only time I got to take my camera out was on our weekly trips to the market, when George made time away from work to accompany me. Otherwise, my commute to the university allowed me a small window into the world. If I lost that, I would go crazy from the isolation.
“That’s once a week,” I said weakly, feeling selfish that I was protesting when he only wanted to protect us both.
He raked a hand through his sandy hair, mussing it from its usual tidy style. He only did that when he was deeply frustrated with me, and the gesture made me cringe internally.
“I’ll spend more time with you,” he promised. “You can come with me when I’m networking socially. But you’re not going to the university anymore. Not by yourself. And I can’t leave work to escort you around the city every day.”
Anguish crushed my heart, but I couldn’t defy him. He was only being reasonable, responsible for our safety.
We wouldn’t be in Mexico City forever. I could deal with the temporary isolation.
“You’d be okay with me going to the bar with you and your friends?” I asked cautiously.
George usually didn’t want me around when he was establishing his career connections. Going out for drinks and forming friendships was an important part of advancement in his line of work. The camaraderie he shared with his fellow agents also kept us in a tight-knit community that added another layer of protection. We were outsiders here, and the nature of George’s work made us enemies of the cartels.
He nodded tightly. “I can keep an eye on you when we go out,” he said. “Besides, a couple of the other wives come out with us sometimes.”
“They do?” I asked breathlessly, hope budding in my chest.
I didn’t make friends easily, but female company would be nice. Especially if I was going to be confined to the apartment for most of every day.
He nodded again, that awful frown still tugging at the corners of his mouth.
“Thank you,” I said fervently. “I’ll be safe as long as I’m with you.”
I knew that truth deep in my bones. George was my person. He was my everything, my entire world. He wouldn’t allow anyone to take me from him ever again. Besides, he couldn’t keep me safe if I made foolish, headstrong choices. I wouldn’t fight him on this anymore. I would quit my job and make the shabby little apartment into a home for us.
“Do as I say, and you’ll be safe,” he said. “I can’t protect you if you get reckless and go off on your own to take your pictures.”
“I won’t,” I agreed.
He hugged me again, and I leaned into his chest. He shushed me gently and rubbed his hand up and down my back in a soothing motion.
“We won’t be here forever, baby,” he reassured me. “Just a year or two until I get promoted.”
I nodded, hardening my resolve. I could stay mostly isolated for that period of time. To keep George safe, I would sacrifice anything.