Chapter Two
Lourdes jolted awake as she slammed against a car door.
Pain shot through her right arm and sliced across her chest as the seat belt dug into her shoulder.
“What the hell?” She flung out her hands to catch herself on the dashboard.
Dizziness swamped her. Nausea swam in her belly.
She blinked fast to clear the haze over her eyes.
Beyond the windows, dirt plumes billowed from the spinning tires. The vehicle rumbled and shook like an angry beast across the uneven ground.
“Pothole. Sorry.” Enrique eased back onto the road.
She jumped, startled, at the man beside her. “Enrique?” Her head ached as though someone had poured sludge into her skull. Fractured memories filled her mind.
Enrique bursting in.
Kissing her.
Drugging her.
Darkness.
He’s kidnapped me. She swallowed past the lump in her dry, scratchy throat.
The dusty old highway stretched to eternity across gorgeous craggy hills and river valleys with a smattering of potholes gutting the path.
The digital clock on the dash flicked to 9:22.
She craned her neck toward the windshield to check the position of the sun—which was to the right of the vehicle—so her captor was driving north.
“Are we going to Hermosillo? What did you give me? Are you crazy?” she rattled off the questions, venom dripping from her voice.
“You’re safe.”
“That’s not an answer. You drugged me, Enrique!”
“I had to.” He kept his gaze on the road and his hands choking the steering wheel. His knuckles paled under the strain, the rich bronze fading to a muted ashen hue.
“Oh, you had to. Right,” she mocked while rubbing her sore neck. A slight bump marred her skin. She groaned and clasped her middle as he veered around another pothole. “I feel sick. What was in that syringe?”
“Midazolam. It’s a sedative. Check the bag behind my seat. There’s water.”
She turned and sighed in relief. Her suitcase was in the back.
Then she grabbed the brown-paper bag and rummaged past the plastic-wrapped sandwiches, baggies of chips, and a roll of toilet paper for the bottles.
Where did he think they were going—on a picnic?
And the paper? Dios mío. He probably expected her to squat behind a bush somewhere to do her business.
She clutched a crackly bottle, ripped off the cap, and gulped the tepid water so fast her throat closed and eyes burned.
Coughing, she forced the liquid down and wiped the sleeve of her shirt across her mouth.
After a much smaller mouthful, she screwed the cap back on and dropped the bottle in the cup holder.
“You’ve been asleep for about five hours. We passed the Durango/Chihuahua state line right before you woke up.” He snatched the bag from her lap and stashed it back where she found it. “The grogginess and nausea will pass soon. Just relax.”
“Did you give the same to Yago?”
He gritted his teeth. The muscle in his jaw ticked. “Why are you concerned about the damn guard? Was he something more to you?”
She laughed, the sharp sound slicing up her throat. “If you’re asking if we were lovers, we weren’t—not that it’s any of your business. I just don’t want anyone dying or getting hurt on my account. Now, because of you, Yago’s death will be on my hands.”
Enrique rolled his shoulders as if shaking off his jealousy.
“If the man were any good at his job, he would’ve stopped me.
At least noticed me. I found him inspecting a camera and grumbling about the feed going down.
What if I were one of your father’s enemies?
You could be dead. Raped. Beaten. Sold into slavery.
Held for ransom. That so-called guard deserves whatever the jefe decides. ”
She flinched, her protest dying before it reached her tongue.
God only knew how long Enrique had been spying on her.
Yago and the others had failed at their only task with flying colors, yet they weren’t the only ones at fault.
She’d followed along with dozens of self-defense videos in her living room, drilling each move until her muscles ached.
Anything to make sure she’d never again fall prey to a man’s fists.
Enrique hadn’t hit her, but he sure as hell violated her.
So much for training. When it mattered, she’d frozen.
Lourdes fisted her cotton bottoms and ran her socked feet along the floor mat.
Kidnapped in pajamas. Just her luck. She shook her head, pangs shooting through her skull.
Ow. Bad idea. No sudden movements. Breathing through her queasiness, she leaned back and closed her eyes.
Exhaustion tunneled under her skin like a river of slime.
Once her twisting stomach settled, she rubbed the last twinge of pain from her temples and massaged her stiff neck.
The bright sunlight sharpened her captor’s handsome profile, darkened his morning scruff, and gleamed off his jacket.
Such a shame. He had starred in her wildest fantasies.
Now, he would surely join the lineup of villains who plagued her nightmares.
“You’re just like everyone else.” Her heart ached over the bitter truth. “Making decisions for me. Treating me like I’m too stupid to make up my own mind. To know my own mind.” She rubbed her cheeks, discreetly wiping away tears. “I’m not helpless. I do not need saving.”
“Be angry all you want. I won’t take you back. Not yet, anyway.”
She bit back a scathing insult. “That’s your apology?”
“I’m not apologizing for protecting you. And you do need saving. I asked you to marry me. I wanted you to leave with me of your own free will. You brought this on yourself.”
“No one says no to my father. I couldn’t defy him to run away with you.”
“I’m not beholden to Gerardo Villegas. Once you’re my wife, you won’t be either.”
She splayed her hands on her lap, struggling to find the right words.
“Do you have any idea what this feels like? To wake up in a moving car, in the middle of nowhere, after being drugged? I could’ve been dead for all I knew.
Who are you, Enrique? I thought you were kind and decent, different from every other man in my life.
But you’re the same. You just hide your sinister nature better. ”
He snorted. “You don’t become the second-in-command of one of the most powerful cartels in the country through kindness and decency. My dark side—my sinister nature—is something you will never want to see.”
Her breath hitched. “I’m seeing it now.”
A short, harsh laugh escaped his lips. He leveled her with his icy, dead-set stare. “Lourdes, you have no idea what I’m capable of.” He faced the road.
He was right. Throughout her marriage to Jacobo, she’d daydreamed about Enrique and what their life could’ve been like together had she married him instead.
She’d romanticized him, made him into the hero, the white knight who would rise from the shadows to vanquish evil.
How foolish she’d been? He was a drug trafficker. A criminal.
She was his latest victim.
Victim. That was all she’d ever been. The unwanted daughter used as a pawn in her father’s games. The useless wife who failed to provide her husband with a son. How long would it take for Enrique to tire of her before he shipped her back to her father, regretting the day he’d taken her for himself?
He reached over to touch her arm, but she flinched away.
Sighing, he settled his hand on his leg. “The only thing I’m sorry for is how things went down. I never wanted to scare you.”
Lourdes folded her arms over her chest. “Where are you taking me?”
“A safe house. Off-grid. No one knows I have it.”
“Of course. I’m your prisoner now. Your hostage. Will you chain me to the bed, keep me on a leash?” she snapped.
A crooked smile curled his lips. “Only if you ask nicely.”
She sucked in a sharp breath. A shiver of desire raced through her and tightened her nipples. She shifted on the buttery-soft leather seat for a more comfortable position. Damn him. After everything he’d done to her, how could she still want him?
Enrique cranked the air conditioner. “You don’t have to forgive me.
You can scream at me all you want, but think about your options—marry Diego Zayas, or take your chances with me.
If you can tell me with complete honesty that you believe Zayas will treasure you, love you, and give you anything your heart desires, then I will turn around right now. ”
She couldn’t say that. The few times she’d been alone with Diego, he forced kisses on her and grabbed her arms so hard that she bruised. At least then, her training had kicked in, and she pushed him back.
“Jacobo died over three years ago,” Enrique continued as if expecting her silence. “I’m surprised your asshole father didn’t arrange another match for you before now.”
Slouching in the seat, she stared back out the passenger window as the gold-and-green fields spanned the vast landscape.
“He wanted to, but my grandfather—my mother’s dad—stepped in.
Abuelo thought I needed more time to grieve Jacobo’s loss and build a new life for myself, so he convinced Papá to give me a two-year respite.
” Though she hadn’t needed even a day to grieve for her dead husband, she craved the stay of execution.
“We made a deal—I would have my own apartment and do whatever I wanted, within reason. In return, I would honor my family by marrying whatever man Papá chose.”
“Your grandfather, Senator Carreon?”
She nodded. “Abuelo often votes for certain laws to benefit the Villegas Cartel, so Papá agreed to his terms.”
“Right, he didn’t want to anger the man.”
“The two-year mark ended a few months back, so I’ve been living on borrowed time.
Even though Papá arranged for me to have bodyguards, my grandfather provided the apartment and a monthly allowance.
” She huffed, so exhausted and emotionally drained she nearly melted right into the floorboard.
Frustration ripped her words free. “I’m twenty-seven years old; I should be self-sufficient.
Pay my own bills. Live my life without the need for an armed shadow trailing my every step.
But no, I’m obligated to rely on the men in my life. ”
“The bane of your birth.”
“Exactly.” Resentment sharpened her tone.
“Part of my father’s conditions was that I couldn’t do anything to shame the family.
Getting a job to earn money or enrolling in school were in the no column.
To him, women are trophies and unworthy of an education because they shouldn’t have a career to warrant needing a degree.
We’re only good as cooks and baby-making machines.
” She rubbed her lower stomach where she’d twice held her baby before the heartbreak of miscarriage stole them away.
She grasped Enrique’s warm, roughhewn hand, determined to make him understand. “You whisking me off like this isn’t going to change anything. Papá will find us. He will force me to marry Diego. If Diego no longer wants me, I’ll have another fiancé before the year is out.”
“You’re wrong on one thing, Lourdes.” He turned his hand over to hold hers and veered into the other lane to miss a tortoise that crossed the road.
“The great Gerardo Villegas will not kill me. He may want to, but it’s not smart business.
I’ve damaged the Lozano-Villegas alliance by taking you, but if I do right and marry you, we will strengthen the bonds of our cartels.
That’s the whole reason your father arranged for you to marry Zayas. ”
“To strengthen the bonds, I know.” While Diego was only a senior capo with the Lozanos, Enrique was the number two man and best friend of the current Lozano leader, Jacobo’s younger brother, Rubén.
If anything, her father should’ve accepted Enrique’s suit over Diego’s.
“That’s all well and good if war hasn’t already broken out.
If Papá turns against Rubén, your life will be forfeit. ”
“Again, not smart business. Your father is a businessman above all else. Both cartels will search for us. They will either join forces or work separately. Eventually, someone will find us. I’m not so arrogant as to think I can hide you away forever.
Before that happens, we need to be on the same page. ”
We need to be married. She heard his unspoken words loud and clear.
Manipulated into one marriage after another.
Why couldn’t she choose who she wanted, or better yet, stay single?
The four years she’d spent under Jacobo’s thumb were enough to last a lifetime.
Only, would she have such a terrible fate as Enrique’s wife?
Even though he’d kidnapped her, he hadn’t technically hurt her.
Terrorized and angered her, sure. But that was the extent of his cruelty.
If he were Jacobo or Diego, he probably would’ve assaulted her by now.
Of course. Now she’s rationalizing Enrique’s male-chauvinistic actions just as she had Jacobo’s when he hit her while drunk.
She was stronger than this. No matter what happened, she couldn’t lose herself in fear and self-pity as she had before.
Whether she married Diego, Enrique, or someone else, she had to be strong and resilient. She had to survive.
Lourdes pulled from his grasp. Enrique’s heart was in the right place, though he was going about saving her all wrong. She had to protect him from his foolishness. Somehow, she had to escape and beg her father to grant him mercy.
“If I had the chance to go back in time and stop myself from doing this, I wouldn’t.” He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. “Give me time, Lourdes. You’ll see I’m right. I will make you happy.”
Happiness, hope, love—those were dangerous words. Everything she’d ever wanted.
Too bad it wasn’t meant to be.