Page 46 of Colombian Chemistry

His cocky grin spread across his face as he lifted his dark eyebrows. “Is that right?”

“That’s right.”

“Did you hear that, Mario? He wants fucking room service.”

Pedro started laughing, and the men with him joined in. His laughing stopped abruptly with the back of his hand across my face. He leaned down and went nose to nose with me. “You’ll tell me exactly what I want to know when I want to know it. Maybe Mario can loosen your tongue.”

He nodded to Mario, the largest man in the room, who stepped forward and cracked his knuckles.

“Come get me when he’s ready to talk.” Pedro spun on the heel of his alligator boot and stormed out of the room, leaving me and Mario alone.

Perfect.

He went to work on my face first, finishing with several thrusts to my gut.

“This isn’t my first time being tortured, and honestly, I’m a little disappointed,” I said as I spit out a little blood. “Do you want me to show you some better techniques? I’d be happy to teach you.”

Mario snarled and wailed on my torso and face a few more times. I shrugged and spit out a little more blood.

“Better, but still far from good.”

A kick to my sternum sent the chair sailing backward, and I grinned when it hit the ground and I felt the joints loosen. It didn’t take but two seconds for me to break apart the rest of the chair and leap up to my feet. Mario’s eyes widened for the last moment they could before my fist collided with his face. I moved quickly and quietly as I pummeled him in all the places I needed to immobilize him. Then I spun behind him, placing my hands on his chin before snapping it upward and sideways. His lifeless body collapsed at my feet.

I looked to the door. Now to find and free Irene.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Irene

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Going over a waterfall in a rickety canoe should have been one of the scariest moments of my life, but it had nothing on the terror I felt inside this Colombian cartel bedroom. If I’d really been the daughter of a millionaire being held for ransom, I wouldn’t have been as petrified, but I wasn’t.

I still had no idea why they wanted me.

And now they had me.

They’d dragged me from the Jeep into some kind of apartment building to this room on the third floor. They’d made no attempt at hiding me while I fought them as we’d moved through the building. That and the armed guards we’d passed in the hallways lead me to believe the entire building was under the control of the cartel. Screaming for help would get me nowhere. No one outside of the cartel would hear me. But at least Marcus was here too. I still didn’t understand why he’d turned himself in when he could have gotten away easily, but I knew him well enough to know nothing he did was an accident, so he had something planned.

Or at least I hoped he did.

I’d seen them take Marcus away, and the farther he got from me, the more panicked I’d become. I hadn’t realized how safe I’d felt at his side until he’d been taken away from me. Suddenly, I was the old me again. The me who was scared of elevators, riding bikes, flying in planes, and pretty much everything else that didn’t involve sitting behind a microscope. But for just a couple days, Marcus had made me braver. I’d shed my insecurities when I knew he watched over me, but now that his watchful eyes were absent, all my fears came crashing back.

“Stay in here and don’t move,” the man who’d been holding me said.

He closed the door behind me, and I stood immobile in the center of the lavish room. It wasn’t the dungeon I expected, that was for sure. I was in a bedroom fit for a queen. Everything dripped in gold and red velvet. It looked more like a harem’s room than a dungeon.

I swallowed.

Oh God. I remembered Marcus’s words about the cartel and human trafficking. Maybe that really was what they wanted with me. My heart hammered in my chest at the thought I’d been taken as some sort of hostage in a sex ring. I ran to the window and looked out for an escape. My stomach plummeted when I looked down at the drop separating me from freedom. Bile rose in my throat, and I stepped back from the window. Even if the window opened, there was no way I was scaling down three stories. No way, no how. It may as well have been a hundred stories for all I cared.

Another man opened my door and walked in with a bottle of water and some food. I tugged down Marcus’s t-shirt I still wore when I saw his leering gaze slide up my legs.

“Can I get some clothes?” I asked.

He grunted then set the plate of food and bottle of water on the table.

“Please? I’m cold,” I lied. Really I just wanted something to cover up my skin he leered at.