Chapter 21
Ayla
The tip of my toe catches on a crack in the sidewalk, making me stumble.
He notices but doesn’t say a word. The clothes I’m wearing were given to me by Slick, shortly after I was brought to the hotel.
I didn’t understand at the time why I was treated differently than the others.
They pulled over a dozen women from Cortez’s compound, but I was the only one who accompanied them after they made sure the others were in good hands at a resource center.
I know now it was because of what they walked in on.
They weren’t going to let me interact with the other women because they didn’t know how I was connected.
It was just a taste of what Cortez threatened when he said he’d make everyone believe his narrative about who I was. I hate the man even more for it.
I seriously need to stop, but I don’t know that he’d pause his steps.
I’m pretty sure the man would just keep walking.
He didn’t look exactly happy that I asked if I could tag along.
Maybe I should ask him what his plans are because we’ve passed the same damn store three times, and honestly, he seems fucking lost.
“I can’t,” I gasp, the bottoms of my feet burning like fire.
I press my palm into my side, but it does nothing to alleviate the hitch there.
I reach for him, hating the way he jerks away at just the slightest brush of my palm on his arm.
“Sorry,” he grumbles, but I shake my head.
“I shouldn’t have touched you.”
I reacted the same way back in the hotel room but it had more to do with the fact that I didn’t want his sympathy. I didn’t want him to feel like he needed to defend anything that happened to me.
“Are you okay?”
I shake my head, grateful he isn’t going to waste any more time on a subject neither of us will probably ever want to talk about.
“I don’t have the energy to keep going. They didn’t… I wasn’t exactly given gourmet meals the last four months.”
He blinks in my direction, his jaw clenching, and I can see the battle in his eyes. I can tell he had no idea I was there as long as I was.
“If I never see another peanut butter and jelly sandwich again, I’ll die a happy man,” he says, the lack of a smile telling me he isn’t joking.
My throat burns at the sight of the frown on his face. I hate thinking that I might be part of the reason for putting it there.
“I’m sorry,” I mutter.
“It’s not a problem. We can take a break.”
I shake my head, those pesky fucking tears once again sprouting from my eyes. I could control them so much better under the threat of harm, but now that I should be smiling because I’m free, I can’t seem to wrangle them at all.
I refuse to think about the validity of Slick’s request for me to get some help or try and talk to someone about what happened.
If I thought it would make a difference, then maybe I’d give it a try, but I know I’ll be stuck feeling this way for the rest of my life.
It’ll all be easier to come to terms with if I ever get the chance to feel safe again.
“Maybe this was a bad idea,” I mutter, looking around, my eyes darting from one person to the next in an effort not to be caught off guard once again like I was back in Texas.
“Would you like me to take you back? The hotel is only a block away.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “If you know exactly where we are, why in the fuck have you been walking us around in fucking circles for the last goddamned hour?”
He licks his lips, but I can see the smile he’s trying to hide. It sparkles in his dark eyes.
“I realize we haven’t really gotten the chance to talk, but I never took you for the type of woman to have such colorful language.”
I bite the inside of my cheek, not even wanting to evaluate what he thought of me, considering everything that’s happened.
“I don’t have the strength to keep fucking walking in circles.”
“I figured you were going to change your mind. I didn’t want your walk back to take too long.”
I drop down onto the sidewalk, uncaring for the people who may have to step into the street to get around us. I’ve been through a lifetime of hell in the last four months. What do I care if others are just mildly fucking inconvenienced.
“If you don’t want me with you, just fucking tell me that.” I’m second-guessing why I even asked in the first place.
“You’ll go back to Cerberus?” His question is a challenge, as if he’s expected this all along.
“Not a fucking chance,” I answer honestly. I was no less a prisoner there than I was with Cortez’s crew.
“This isn’t exactly the safest place to take a break,” he says, his eyes darting down the street before looking back at me.
“Tell me the plan, while I rest.”
He looks away. “I don’t exactly have a plan.”
I take in a deep, ragged breath, the noise rushing from my nose, making it very clear I’m not happy with his response.
“I want to get back to the States,” I say, imagining that standing on American soil will cure everything that could possibly ail me. “Preferably Texas because that’s where I’m from.”
He nods as if he thinks it’s not a half-bad goal to have.
“Where did they take you from?”
He meets my eyes. “Here.”
“Monterrey?” He nods.
My eyes dart all over the place. I know anything can happen at any time in any place, but I think I let his presence wrap me in a false sense of security. Hell, he was abducted too.
“Is that why this isn’t a safe place?” I ask, needing to know if it’s fear from before or if he suspects something will happen in the present.
“I’m sure I don’t have to tell you that there aren’t really any safe places anywhere anymore.”
I swallow, my throat working as I nod my agreement.
“Cerberus is safe. Angel said as much.”
I look away from him, my eyes downcast on my hands as I tangle my fingers together.
I know exactly who Angel is, and it irritates me in a way that he’d be friends with someone that was so quick and willing to kill me.
But the man doesn’t owe me any favors and loyalty is earned, not just freely given.
I’ve done nothing to deserve it from him.
If anything, he should hate me for what I’ve done.
“How long will it take to get a passport from the embassy?” I ask, hoping he has a better answer than the one I got from Slick.
“Too fucking long,” he says, anger lacing his tone. “And there’s no fucking telling if any of those pieces of shit are connected to Cortez.”
“Really?” I ask, unbelieving that there are so many bad people despite having witnessed it firsthand the last four months.
“The cartels pay more than any other agency possibly could. People are inherently greedy, and they always feel like they deserve more than they’re getting paid.
It’s not very hard to turn someone. Plus, if the cash being waved in their faces isn’t enough, they make threats to the people they care for to get compliance. ”
“I know,” I whisper.
He doesn’t question how I’m aware of how the cartels work. I don’t know if he’s just not interested or if I’m putting off the vibe that says I wouldn’t tell him even if he asked. He doesn’t seem like the type to waste time on shit like that.
“So we can’t go to the embassy. How do we get back to Texas?”
I watch as he chews on the inside of his lip, wishing I had access to his thoughts.
“Follow me,” he says, looking like he wants to reach down a hand to help me up but decides against it.
I stand, my feet no less sore for the break that was allowed.
He walks, taking a left at the end of the street rather than the same right we’ve taken numerous times. He doesn’t hesitate to tug open the door to a bar, and like, before, he walks inside first.
I stand as close to him as I can manage without touching him as he pulls out a twenty-dollar bill, handing it over to the bartender in exchange for using his phone.
I was mistaken in presuming he was like me, cashless and out of options. It may actually be possible that he can get me home.
I keep an eye on everyone in the bar, being sure not to make direct eye contact with anyone as he talks on the phone.
I know better than to think being back in Texas will make any difference in how I feel because I was snatched from a town that literally mimics fucking Mayberry. But being in a place where at least I speak the common language is better than being here.