Chapter 20 #2
But he had no idea how to help her. How to stop this.
He felt sick that she was in this situation.
In the last nine hours, he’d had more than enough time to think as they drove south.
Angelo knew that he’d fucked up—again. He’d led the cartel right to his sister.
If it had been Isabella with him instead of Reese, they could’ve hurt her.
Taken her. Maybe they’d even expected Isabella to be with him.
For all he knew, because he’d told them the name of The Refuge, they would send someone else to retrieve her.
And in the meantime, he’d put Reese’s life in danger.
“It’s decided,” Pablo said firmly. “Angelo, me, Diego, then Andres. Diego, I already said you can have her ass since you’re being such a dick about going third.” Then Pablo turned to Angelo. “Get in the back. My cock’s been hard for hours, let’s get this done so we can go home.”
“What happens after?” Angelo asked.
“I’ve decided to take her with us. It’s a long trip to Colombia…we’ll need something to do along the way.”
The man Angelo used to look up to, used to want to emulate, licked his lips and stared into the backseat with lust in his gaze, and it made Angelo’s blood run cold. He was scared. He didn’t like the feeling.
“No,” he blurted.
“No what?” Pablo asked in a hard, cold voice. “I know you’re not telling me what to do, because that wouldn’t be smart…not after I came all this way to bring you home like you asked, no, begged me to do.”
“I don’t want her!” Angelo shouted, scared out of his mind. He’d never been afraid of Pablo before, but seeing the look in his eyes now made him regret ever taking up with the cartel.
Isabella had been right. These men were evil.
But that realization was coming far too late.
“Fine. Get out. The three of us will have our fun then we’ll get the hell out of this fucking country.”
Angelo didn’t know what else to do, other than what he was ordered. He exited the vehicle into the heart of the storm, like the coward he was, and walked away, not wanting to see or hear what was about to happen.
The guilt made it hard to breathe. Made his chest hurt. This was his fault. The woman who’d always been so nice to him, no matter how badly he treated her, was about to be brutalized.
He heard her screams, and tears ran down Angelo’s cheeks, mixing with the rain. If he lived to be a hundred, which he knew he wouldn’t, he’d never forget the anguish, pain, and fear in that scream.
He couldn’t stop himself from glancing back at the car—and to his surprise, Diego’s door flew open and the large man stumbled out, holding a hand to his face as he cried out in pain. Then his upper body disappeared back into the car.
The next thing Angelo knew, Diego and Andres were carrying a squirming and fighting Reese out of the backseat. Pablo got out of the driver’s seat and exclaimed, “Don’t let go of her! Bring her over there, under that tree by the river!”
Looking to where Pablo was pointing, Angelo realized for the first time how close they were to the Rio Grande.
It was so dark, he hadn’t seen it. But now he couldn’t take his eyes off the racing water.
Was this where Pablo expected them to cross into Mexico?
The water was frothy and angry. It looked more like the ocean during a tropical storm than a river.
Angelo heard Reese scream again and turned in time to see Diego and Andres drop her onto the ground, right on her ass. He winced, knowing it had to hurt. But if it did, she didn’t let it show. She immediately rolled, got her knees under her, and tried to stand.
Diego tackled her, and she landed face down on the muddy riverbank.
“Hold her, Diego!” Andres shouted, sounding excited.
“Grab her arms,” Pablo told Andres, taking a knife out of the sheath on his belt. He held it up and smiled. “Gotta get those pants off. If she doesn’t hold still, she’s gonna get cut.”
Angelo swallowed the bile that rose in his throat. Was he really going to stand there and watch this happen?
What choice did he have? He couldn’t overpower Diego, Andres, and Pablo. They’d kill him, then still do whatever they wanted to Reese.
Diego was straddling Reese now, holding her down as Pablo knelt next to her with his knife at the ready. Reese was still struggling, fighting with everything she had, even as Pablo made his first cut.
Angelo turned his back on the horrifying scene, unable to watch…
And heard something else over the wind and rain and Reese’s frantic screams.
An engine.
He spun around and realized the others had heard it too. All three men were looking around, trying to discover where the sound was coming from.
To everyone’s shock, a helicopter appeared out of nowhere, coming straight at them down the river, a spotlight bobbing from an open door on the side.
It landed on Diego and the others—and everyone froze.
The bright light allowed Angelo to see what the darkness had hidden.
Reese’s tearstained face as she lifted her head.
Her shirt lying next to her, cut off by Pablo’s sharp knife.
The blood welling from where the knife had sliced her arm and shoulders.
Andres had a hand on the back of her neck, the other clutching both of her wrists.
Diego was astride her thighs, one hand fisted on the waistband of her pants.
It was obvious he’d been in the process of pulling them off of Reese.
And Pablo had already shoved his jeans down, one hand on his knife, the other around his cock, preparing to rape the woman struggling in the mud.
“Fuck!” Pablo growled viciously as he quickly stuffed his dick inside his pants. “To the river! If we’re in Mexico, border patrol can’t touch us!”
Angelo had a feeling whoever was in that helicopter wasn’t border patrol. He didn’t think anyone would be crazy enough to fly in this weather…except for one person.
Spike.
Isabella had told him about Woody and Spike, how they used to work for the US Army and were special forces soldiers. She’d been so excited when it became obvious Reese and Spike were dating.
Angelo had seen the way Spike looked at Reese. It was the same way Woody looked at his sister. With a love so strong, they’d face down the devil himself if it meant keeping them safe.
And right now, Pablo was the devil.
Hell…Angelo was too.
The last thing he wanted to do was go into that raging river, but he didn’t have a choice.
He’d burned his bridges here in the States.
Even if he wanted to stay, that wasn’t a possibility any longer.
Not after he’d been responsible for Reese’s kidnapping.
He’d made his bed. Now he had to man up and deal with the consequences of his actions.
Pablo ran several yards down river and grabbed a rope that Angelo hadn’t noticed before. It was obviously placed there to help people get across the river. This wasn’t a random stopping place. The cartel likely used this location to ferry people across the river all the time.
Pablo started across the water without waiting to see if the others followed, without even a glance behind him, intent on saving his own ass.
Angelo’s hopes rose. This was Reese’s chance. Surely she’d be left behind in the rush to get to Mexico.
His hopes were instantly dashed when Diego grabbed hold of Reese’s arm and hauled her to her feet. Then he cocked his fist back and punched her once. Twice. Before wrenching her arm behind her back so hard, Angelo was afraid he’d broken it.
“If you don’t come willingly, I’ll make you regret it,” he growled in her face.
Of course, Reese had no idea what he was saying, but she was so dazed from being hit, she didn’t even fight as Diego dragged her toward the river.
Angelo hurried behind them, not surprised when Andres pushed ahead of Diego and started across without offering to help with Reese.
“You—kid,” Diego growled. “Watch her. If she doesn’t make it to the other side, I’ll fuck you instead. I’m getting a piece of ass one way or the other—understand?”
Angelo stared at the huge man in horror.
Diego shoved Reese toward him and grabbed hold of the rope, stepping into the rushing waters.
Angelo had no idea how the hell he was supposed to cross the river and hold onto Reese at the same time. He was big, but he wasn’t sure he was strong enough to hold them both upright in the fast current.
The chopper was circling above them now, and every few seconds, the spotlight from the door lit up the area.
Reese said something to him, and Angelo looked down at her. Her face was bloody from Diego’s fist, and she looked terrified. But then she did something that Angelo would never forget, whether he continued to live for many years or mere minutes.
She patted his arm soothingly.
She was comforting him.
She’d been kidnapped and beaten, almost raped, and he’d ignored her all day, hadn’t done a single thing to help her…and she was reassuring Angelo.
Regret beat down on him fiercely. He had to fix this. But he had no idea how.
“Move, Angelo! Now! Or I’ll fucking shoot you myself!”
He didn’t know who yelled the words, had barely heard them over all the noise, but he could hear the truth in the man’s words. Pushing Reese forward, he reached for the rope. He brought her hand up and carefully curled her fingers around it.
“We have to cross,” he said, knowing she wouldn’t understand him, but saying the words anyway.
But Reese seemed to comprehend him as she took a wobbly step toward the water and grabbed the rope with her other hand, her knuckles white in the spotlight as she held on as tightly as she could.
Ahead of him, he could see the water almost up to Diego’s hips as he passed the middle of the river.
Angelo was surprised the water was as shallow as it was, but the cartel and other people going into and out of the US obviously knew this was the ideal place to cross the notoriously dangerous river.
It might be relatively low where they were crossing, but he had a feeling it quickly deepened as the water rolled downstream.
And if his feet were swept from beneath him, if the current grabbed hold, he’d surely drown either way, shallow or not, since he couldn’t swim.
He swallowed hard as he started across the river, holding the rope with a desperate grip.
The storm made the undertow especially strong, and Angelo immediately struggled to stay upright. He had one hand on Reese’s belt loop, holding onto her as well as the rope as they struggled to make their way across to the other side.
When they were halfway across, the chopper lowered until it was only about three meters above the rolling waves of the river.
The pilot was fucking crazy, but he had skills Angelo had only seen in the movies.
He turned the helicopter parallel to the river, and Angelo could see two men standing in the open doorway.
One held a rifle pointed directly at him, and the other held the spotlight.
Angelo had made a lot of decisions in his life.
A lot of them bad. He’d been a shitty brother, thinking only of himself, and only recently coming to understand all of the sacrifices Isabella had made for him.
He’d taken her for granted, hadn’t appreciated how hard she worked to keep them both fed and safe.
And he’d made the worst decision yet when he’d asked Pablo to help him return to the cartel.
It was time to make the right decision for once in his life.
He leaned forward, keeping his gaze locked on the man with the rifle in the helicopter, and yelled into Reese’s ear, “I am sorry! Tell Isabella I love her.”
Then he let go of Reese’s pants, swung his arm up and brought the edge of his hand down on Reese’s wrist. Hard.
When she lost her grip on the rope, he shoved her shoulder…
And she fell into the river, where she was immediately swept downstream.
Relief swam through Angelo’s veins. She was free.
The helicopter banked to the left and the light that had been on him disappeared—a split second before a large tree that had been washed into the river somewhere upstream slammed into Angelo’s legs, knocking him off his feet and sending him tumbling into the water after Reese.