Chapter Twenty-Two
Lourdes moaned, awakening from oblivion.
Something metallic and dry like iron dusted the back of her throat and thickened her tongue.
Faint pinpricks of light pierced the veil over her blurry eyes.
The stench of sweat, body odor, and strong, expensive cologne soured the already stale air.
Men chatted around her, yet the pounding in her skull muffled their words.
A low, crawling ache pulsated from her head to her neck.
She reached up with her right hand, and her left followed.
What the hell? She jerked her arms as something scratchy bit into her skin.
Squinting hard against her still-blurry vision, she peered down at what appeared to be rope tying her wrists together.
Huh? That made no sense. With both hands, she patted the hot, swollen lump on the back of her skull.
Ouch! Nausea turned her stomach. Her head swayed. She shifted sideways, and something—no, someone—gripped her leg. Every molecule in her body froze. Then her heart galloped faster than a herd of wild mustangs.
Memories returned in fragments. The therapist’s kind smile. Rascón shielding her from bullets. Diego grabbing her. A strike to her head. Pain. Darkness.
Dios mío. She pinched her eyes shut and hunkered down in the soft seat.
The backseat of the van, probably. The sound of an engine grated in her ears.
She had to focus. Think. Stay calm. Her last image of Rascón, bleeding out in front of her, seared her mind.
Was he dead? Was she going to follow him into the afterlife?
Enrique. She couldn’t leave him. He needed her, just as she needed him.
The touch on her leg slid north. Revulsion slicked her skin. Blinking hard, she shifted away.
“Easy.”
The slimy voice stopped her cold. Battling back her nerves, she forced her gaze to her abductor.
Diego Zayas cocked his head. His dark hair stuck up at odd angles, likely from wearing the black mask that now lay abandoned on the floor by his feet.
They were on the middle bench seat. Not the back one.
As if that even matters, she snapped at herself, stamping down her bout of hysteria.
Behind her, two guards grinned at her. One even had the gall to blow her a kiss. She shuddered and eyed the sheathed knife on Diego’s belt.
“Don’t even think about it.” He drew back his hand and tapped the hilt. “I’ll gut you before you can grab it.”
Lourdes dragged in air, then sneezed to clear her sinuses. “If you think you can get away with this, you’re crazier than I thought.”
His lips twitched up at one corner. “I’m nothing if not patient, Lourdes.” He grabbed her hand and yanked off her wedding ring set so hard the metal scraped across her knuckles.
Wincing, she clamped her jaw to keep from crying out. Her watch followed the rings.
“Nice rocks. Is that why you chose Briceno? Did he promise you more riches than I did?” He held up the rings and the silver watch in the stark evening sunlight that poured in from the front windshield.
“Good clarity in the stones. I’m a bit of an expert, you see.
Diamonds, rubies, sapphires—all the gems. They’ll bring in a fine amount.
” He pocketed the jewelry and rested his arm along the back of the seat as though he didn’t have a problem in the world.
Lourdes turned away. The driver flicked his mean-eyed gaze at her from the rearview mirror and then back toward the highway while the burly passenger stared out the window. The desert blurred past the tinted glass at her side in muted, somber shades befitting the melancholy in her aching heart.
Stop that. No morose thoughts. Her kidnappers were probably en route to the border.
She’d dropped her purse on the street, so she no longer had her passport.
An illegal crossover? That had to be it.
She wove her fingers together and shifted as far from Diego as she could without tumbling off onto the floorboard.
She had to keep Diego talking. Ammunition and all that.
Words, knowledge—her only source of power.
She squared her shoulders and faced him. “Enrique promised me the only thing I wanted.”
Diego’s eyebrows rose. Interest flared in his bloodshot, mud-brown eyes.
“Respect. Love. Kindness.” As Diego and the other men laughed, she notched up her chin. “Enrique will never hit me. Hurt me. Degrade me. Can you say the same?”
“Of course not. You’re just a stupid fucking woman.” Diego gripped her cheeks and forced her lips together. “That’s right. Pucker up, baby. If you keep me satisfied, I won’t pass you off to my men. That is, after they each take a turn. Gotta keep my promises, you know.”
She wrenched her face away. “I will never sleep with you. Any of you.” She snarled the words at the others and glared at Diego. “Enrique will find me.”
“Let him try. We’re going so far off-grid that not even his hacker could track us.
” He braced his fists on his knees. His eyes narrowed to slits.
“You ruined me. Embarrassed me in front of everyone. Made me look weak. Well, I’ve shown them.
Enrique is just a knife. You’re the one who drove it into my back. ”
Her mouth dried as though he’d waterboarded her with sand. “This isn’t my fault,” she choked out. “You’re the one who killed innocent people. You tossed your career away like a child throwing a tantrum.”
His hand cracked across her face with a resounding thwack. She fell back against the door. Fresh pain flushed her cheek. Iron flooded her mouth. Blood. Gah. She swallowed the oily liquid and yanked on the door handle to take her chances with road rash, but it didn’t budge.
“You just had to marry that no-name Briceno,” Diego spat.
Spittle flew from his mouth and just barely missed her arm.
“I come from one of the most noble houses in Spain, you bitch, and you chose an orphaned grunt who climbed his way to the top by sucking up to a snot-nosed prince. Through you, I would’ve ruled the Villegas Cartel.
I would’ve expanded it. Claimed more territory.
Made billions. Yet you opened your legs to the wrong man. ”
She bit her tongue, not knowing which part to call bullshit on first.
“No matter. I can adapt. I can always adapt.” Diego blew out a long, ragged breath and rubbed his hands down his pants, but his eyes ping-ponged in the sockets as though the last thread of his sanity had nearly snapped.
“Everything will be fine once we’re in Africa.
You’ll see. Before long, you’ll forget all about your life here. ”
Lourdes licked her parched lips. As much as she’d love to vacation in Kenya or somewhere else on the African continent, she didn’t want to live there.
Especially not as Diego’s sex slave. “You have children. Are you really heartless enough to abandon them?” Though losing a monster like him as a father would probably be the best thing for the kids.
“Again, your fault. I had plans for my sons. My daughters. Once things cool down, I’ll grab them from their moms. Besides, you’ll give me more.”
Thoroughly disgusted, she had to make him see reason. “Marrying me wouldn’t have gotten you the Villegas throne. That would’ve gone to our son.”
“Eventually,” he hedged. “Your father wouldn’t have lasted the year.”
She gaped at him. The pieces fell into place. “You were going to kill Papá and usurp the throne. His men wouldn’t have allowed it.”
“I guess we will never know, but I’ll still be king. My contacts in Morocco are going to welcome me with open arms. Do you even know what today is?”
She frowned and shook her head.
“Our wedding day, dear Lourdes. We should’ve been married a few hours ago in your family church.”
Swallowing hard, she curled her fingers so tight into her palms that her nails bit into her skin.
One minute, he was calling her a bitch. The next, dear.
The idiot needed to make up his damn mind.
Thank God Enrique had rescued her when he did.
And it was a rescue. Now, with Diego, this was a true kidnapping.
The hair on the back of Lourdes’s neck prickled.
With Diego’s thugs listening in on their conversation, the disgraced capo had to keep up the pretense of power, though he had faltered a few times.
She needed to break him, humiliate him, make him lose face.
Aligning herself with Enrique had been her only means of self-preservation.
She’d never intended to hurt Diego, but Mother Mary preserve her, she was going to now.
She leveled her glare at the smug man. “I will not make things easy. Whatever it takes, I will destroy you.” She crossed herself the best she could with her bound hands.
Diego chuckled. “We could’ve had a respectable marriage, Lourdes. Now, you’ll be my whore. The children, bastards. Unless you sweet talk me into marrying you. Of course, we’ll have different names by then. No one will ever know you’re already married.”
“I will never marry you.”
“Your choice.” The cell in his pants pocket beeped, so he pulled it out and tapped the screen.
“Ah, good. The coyote’s got our crossing into the States ready.
We’ll hide out there for a while, then cross into Canada and make our way to Europe.
Maybe Spain for a time before Morocco. You see, Lourdes, I always have a contingency plan. Never forget that.”
Madre de Dios. She had to escape. No way would she survive long with Diego giving her to his men. Not even Jacobo had threatened that.
Where are you, Enrique?
She stared out the window as the evening sunlight spilled over the dry, dusty terrain and sharpened the shadows that stretched out from the trees, cacti, and houses in the distance. The drive-by shooting had left Rascón in dire straits and so many others in the street, gunned down.
Enrique was coming for her. He had to be.
But would he find a tiger, or a bird with a broken wing?
****