Chapter 44 – Alana
Chapter
Forty-Four
ALANA
Ilook across the room at Lucia. She came around shortly after I did, during what I assumed was yesterday.
It’s hard to keep track of time in this goddamn basement.
There is no natural light, no hint of the outside world.
We both remain bound—all except for when we need to use the bathroom—which is no more than a bucket in the corner.
Lucia has at least been removed from the chair and allowed to sit on an old sofa bed on the other side of the room. Still shackled, but more comfortable.
“Are you okay, sweetheart?” I ask her. She’s pale and shaking.
She nods at me. “Yeah. I just feel a little lightheaded.”
“Hey, tattoos,” I say to the man who seems to be the one in charge.
“My name is Rafe,” he replies with a grin. I don’t want to know his name. The fact that he’s offering it suggests he’s confident it won’t matter.
“Can you let her get some fresh air? She’s pregnant.”
“I can see that,” he growls at me. “Not my problem.”
I suck in a breath. “Whatever my husband has done, Rafe, this girl and her baby are entirely innocent.”
“We won’t be hurting her or her baby, don’t worry,” he snaps.
“She’s just a kid, Rafe. Just let her outside for some air. She’s hardly going to escape with you two watching her, is she?”
He shakes his head. “Boss says she’s to stay down here. But don’t worry, we’re not allowed to harm a hair on her pretty little head. You, on the other hand…” He licks his lips and my stomach turns. “You’re fair game. Just as soon as we have your husband where we want him.”
I swallow a rush of bile. What are they planning on doing to Alejandro? I hate that they’re using me to hurt him.
“My husband will cut off your balls,” I mutter.
He scowls at me, stepping towards me with his hand raised. I brace myself for another blow, but he’s disturbed by the ringing of his cell phone. He pulls it out of his pocket and holds it to his ear. I listen to the one-sided conversation.
“Yes, boss?” he says.
“They’re fine. His puta is a mouthy bitch though. I can’t wait to teach her a few manners.”
Laughter.
“Well, of course he is. He’s a fool.”
“No. He’ll never find them. Because he’ll never suspect you. Arrogant prick!”
“We can do a few more days, yes.”
“He’ll be on his knees. He’ll be ready to sell his soul by then.”
More laughter.
“Adiós.”
I try and fill in the gaps of that conversation, and I don’t like any of the possible conclusions.
Rafe turns to me with a grin as he pockets his cell phone.
“Seems your husband is creating quite the stir looking for you, puta! He is causing World War Three out there. But he isn’t even close to finding you or discovering who is double-crossing him. ”
So, it is someone who Alejandro trusts behind this, as he dreaded. Or Rafe wouldn’t have mentioned being double-crossed, or made that comment about him never suspecting. Because your enemies don’t stab you in the back—they look you right in the eye as they twist the knife.
“I guarantee he’ll find out soon enough, and then no-one will be able to protect you, Rafe. And if you know my husband at all, you know that what I’m saying is true.”
I bite back a smile as I see him wince. Another thing I’ve learned. He does know Alejandro. Well enough to be worried.
“Fuck you, puta,” he snarls.