7. Robin
ROBIN
“Not again,” I whisper.
Concrete. It’s always fucking concrete. I suppose because it’s impossible to escape from concrete unless you have a jackhammer.
No sink or toilet. Just the dirty old cot.
And damn, I have to pee.
Whoever put me here left a plastic pail in the corner. I’ll have to be nearly bursting before I use that.
Where was I before? What the hell happened?
I was…
My mind is so fuzzy, but then it comes to me. I was skulking around Adriana de la Fuente’s place.
Alone.
That was my first mistake.
Everything bad in my life has happened when I’ve been alone.
Alone, without my big hulking brothers to protect me. Or my father. Or even my sister, who, though I never thought she was as tough as I was, kicked cancer’s ass with strength and grace.
Damn…
Is this going to turn into as big a mess as the one I got myself into back in Romania?
A shiver races through me.
I look around again. Same dark cell, same smelly cot. Bars on one side of my cell, but nothing to see. Just more concrete walls.
I smack my lips. They’re already starting to chap, and God, my mouth is dry. I feel like I’m trapped in the desert, looking for water. I’d drink out of the fucking toilet if I had one.
But there’s nothing. I even look under the stupid cot.
Wait…
Something glints near the edge of the wall. I reach all the way under the cot—it’s so narrow that my arms are long enough—and pull out the object.
Gross.
It’s a small and rusty old tin cup. Empty, of course.
The universe is mocking me when it knows how thirsty I am.
My stomach lets out a growl.
Guess I’m hungry too.
I pick up the cup, stand, walk to the bars of my cell, and fling it back and forth to make a loud clacking sound.
No one responds.
“Is anyone around?” I yell. “Help! Help me!” I clatter the cup for a few more minutes until my arm gets tired. Then I plunk back down on the cot.
So this is my life.
This is where I die.
Not in Romania. I escaped that hell only to, eight years later, die on a smelly cot.
What the hell even happened? Some psycho must’ve found me at the de la Fuente place.
Someone was watching me. Someone knew I was researching—
“No,” I say out loud.
This could be totally unrelated to what’s happening in my family right now.
I mean, girls from rich families are targets all the time. And once again, I’ve gotten in over my head.
I stand again, pace around the small cell, until—
I gasp.
A shadow, just out of my eyesight. I can’t see the person the shadow belongs to, but it’s there.
Then a deep voice. “You don’t need to be afraid,”
“Where the hell am I?” I demand.
“You’re okay,” the voice says. “You’re safe. And you’ll be able to go home safely if you cooperate.”
“If I cooperate? Are you kidding me?” My words sound brave, but inside I’m shuddering. “What are you going to do? Rape me? Is that what you mean by cooperate?”
“You don’t owe me anything.”
“Then why am I here?” I ask, this time tempering my voice.
“If I could tell you, I would,” he says. “I’m just a cog in a much larger machine.”
I can’t help but laugh at that. “So I have a choice. Cooperate or not. Seems to me that you have the choice. You don’t have to be a cog, or whatever. You don’t have to abduct innocent women. You don’t have to work for bad people.”
“Bad people?” He lets out a low chuckle that sounds more like a growl. “I’m not sure anyone is ever truly good or bad. People are complex.”
I roll my eyes. “Complex? There’s nothing complex about abducting a woman. That’s bad no matter how you look at it.”
“What about breaking into someone’s private property?” he asks. “Would you classify that as good or bad?”
I let my mouth hang for a moment. “That’s… That’s different. And you know it. I’m trying to find out what’s going on with my family. And the property I was—”
“Enough,” he says more harshly this time. “It doesn’t really matter what you were doing there. You’re here now.”
I swallow. I probably said too much. Right now my only defense is my wits. I can’t give this guy any more ammunition than he already has. “Are you going to tell me where I am at least?” I ask again.
He pauses. “Colombia.”
I nearly lose my footing, but steady myself by grabbing on to one of the bars.
Colombia. Where Vinnie was when he found Daniela. The home of Jacinto Agudelo, Hernando Reyes, and the others.
“How the hell did I get here?”
He doesn’t reply.
“Does this have anything to do with Diego Vega?”
The voice chuckles, again sounding more like a growl. “You’re in way over your head, querida.”
Querida? That’s Spanish. For “loved one” or “sweetheart” or something.
“You should be more careful,” he says.
I draw in a breath and let it out slowly, willing my pulse to steady.
He’s not wrong.
Why didn’t I tell anyone where I was going?
I didn’t want to bother Hawk because he’s busy taking care of Daniela, who’s been through so much. Eagle is still in the hospital, as is my father. My mother is useless. Vinnie and Raven are tending to Belinda.
But I could’ve told Falcon.
He would’ve had my back.
Déjà vu.
Déjà fucking vu.
Just like Romania. And I’m lucky to have made it out of that alive.
“Show your face,” I say, gathering my courage. “Or are you afraid to face the woman you wronged?”
Footsteps, and then—
I drop my jaw.
The shadows part, and light falls onto his face.
And in front of me stands the most gorgeous man I’ve ever laid eyes on.