Chapter Four
Camila ignored the way her hands shook as she pulled on a shirt and reached for a skirt.
She had no way of knowing if these men planned to hurt her, but they hadn’t yet and she could hold on to that.
Her father would have dragged her out of bed by her hair.
How did she know? He’d done it more than once.
She had no way of knowing if going with them would be getting out of one problem only to find herself in a worse one, but the way she saw it, she didn’t have a choice. All she could do was make the best of it and hope they were better men than Papá.
“Don’t you have jeans? Or at least pants?” The stranger who’d woken her spoke from behind her.
Camila didn’t answer but dropped the skirt and went to the closet.
She reached way into the back to where she’d hidden the jeans her father didn’t know she had.
She was careful to never wear them around him, but they were great for when she could get out of the house and ramble around the countryside, or the rare occasion when she got to ride a horse.
She tugged them on, then turned to face the two men.
One still had his back turned but she’d seen him before he’d turned around.
Both were huge, at least a foot taller than her five feet and probably twice her weight, if not more.
They were dressed in black with paint streaking their faces and weapons that weren’t legal in their hands, but she’d seen enough automatic weapons that they didn’t bother her.
“Shoes?” the first man, the one who woke her, prompted.
She didn’t respond but grabbed the socks she’d gotten out and her running shoes and sat to put them on. When they were both on, she stood again.
“Is there anything you can’t live without? Do you have any medications?”
She glanced around the room thinking that if she never came back, what would she miss? Nothing.
Camila shook her head.
“Then come on,” the stranger who seemed to be in charge said. “Let’s retreat.”
The man facing the door glanced over his shoulder—she wasn’t sure if it was at her or at the other man, not that it mattered—then he went to the door and opened it.
The house was quiet as they left, and she had to wonder what they’d done to Maria.
She didn’t care about her father’s goons, but Maria had been nice to her.
Inside the front door they met two more men dressed like the ones with her, but they were alone. No Maria. Camila hoped that once Maria figured out she was gone, she would leave too. That she would be far from here before her father figured out she was gone.
They exchanged a few words, all in English and while she understood the words, she suspected it was some kind of code because she had no clue what they were saying.
When one of the new men opened the door and headed out, they all followed, the man who’d woken her falling behind her, so she was in the middle of the group.
She wondered what they wanted and if they would hurt her.
They hadn’t yet. That was more than she could say for her father.
Besides, what good would fighting them do?
They were all big enough to toss her over their shoulder and take her wherever they wanted, no matter how hard she fought.
Especially since her father told her that any kind of combat, even self-defense, was unbecoming in a woman.
Then again, he didn’t want her to be able to fight back, not when he was the one who’d hurt her the most.
Camila kept her mouth shut as they moved out across the desert. She struggled to keep quiet as she tried to keep up but the third time she stumbled, this time falling to her hands and knees, the man who’d woken her sighed and picked her up.
“Come here. You’re louder than my whole club.
” He picked her up and cradled her against his chest before continuing on.
Not wanting to give them a reason to hurt her, she remained silent, but watchful.
She wasn’t sure what they were watching for, other than her father’s men.
And maybe the policía, but she didn’t want either to catch them any more than the men around her seemed to.
****
Camila didn’t know how long they walked or where they were going but she knew when they went into a building then someone pulled up a hidden door in the floor that they were crossing the border. These men were taking her into the US? What would they do to her there?
She walked on her own now, and the man who had carried her said he didn’t want to hurt her.
But what did he consider hurt? Papá didn’t think that whipping her was hurting her, but she knew otherwise.
She didn’t know if these men were as bad as Papá, but she was pretty sure they weren’t on his good side.
Or maybe it was the other way around, and somehow Papá had crossed them. That she could believe.
She forced herself to keep her breathing slow and even. That was the only way to keep from panicking. She could handle the darkness, but the tiny space and the darkness? That was too much.
“Keep quiet just a little longer, chica, and we’ll be out of here.
Once we’re in the truck we don’t have to worry so much about noise,” one of the men said.
She kept going, following the man in front of her, the only one who had any light, and not much of that.
The other three were behind her and it wasn’t like she could go anywhere.
The tunnel was short enough she had to bend to keep her head from brushing the ceiling, she couldn’t imagine what it must be like for the men.
She’d known about several tunnels crossing the border, but had never been in one.
She made her way along the rough floored tunnel and hoped this was one of the shorter tunnels.
She didn’t know if she could walk like this for half a mile or more.
Her lower back throbbed but no one else seemed to be having a problem so she kept her mouth shut and kept walking, kept focusing her breathing and trying to ignore how close the walls were.
Just as she was ready to tell them she needed a break and sit on the floor of the tunnel, the man in front of her straightened.
He took a few more steps, stopping at the base of a narrow ladder and giving her enough room to follow him and stand upright.
One by one they all made it into the tiny space and stood.
It was a tight fit, but they managed it. No one spoke, so she followed suit.
The one who woke her took something out of a small niche carved into the wall about a foot over her head. A moment later a light told her it was a phone and he was powering it up. She expected him to make a call, but instead he hit the screen a few times. Maybe he was sending a text?
“It’s clear. Go on up.” The man with the phone said.
The one who’d been in front of her started climbing.
She went next and when she reached the top, the first man took her hand and helped her out.
While they waited for the rest of the men, she looked around.
It looked like they were in a kitchen, but not like any kitchen she’d ever been in.
From the size, she would guess it was some restaurant, but everything was covered in a thick layer of dust, so she didn’t think whatever it was, was open anymore.
Once everyone had made it out of the hole in the floor, the men flipped the hinged door she hadn’t noticed in the dim light to cover the opening, then rolled some big rack over it. She guessed it was to keep anyone from noticing the door, though why they bothered, she didn’t know.
“Come on. Let’s get to the truck.” The man who woke her nodded toward where the other men were already headed away from them. Not having any other choice, she followed.