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I was sore and I was hurting, but that pain meant very little compared to what might be in store for me in the future.

The water wasn’t hot. It wasn’t even warm. But it wasn’t frigid, and it was the first time I’d been able to rinse away the dirt and sweat since I’d been here.

I was filthy, and I gladly scrubbed my skin and my hair with the contents from a bottle of shampoo that I found in a little cubbyhole.

Now wasn’t the time to try to escape. I knew without question that Rico was outside the door, along with a bunch of other armed men.

I was biding my time, waiting for an opportunity that I hoped would materialize on the way back to my prison.

I’d no sooner rinsed my hair and body when Rico entered the room again.

He shut off the water and threw me a small towel, leering at me as I hastily tried to dry myself.

His dark, soulless eyes swept over my body as he said flatly, “I almost wish you weren’t going to the boss. I’d like to be the man who beats you into submission before I use your body, puta.”

I wasn’t fluid in Spanish, but I knew enough to realize he’d just called a whore.

Nausea threatened to overtake me as Rico adjusted himself through the dirty pants he was wearing.

I swallowed hard. Twice. And then a third time.

I couldn’t give in to revulsion or start imagining what that scenario would look like.

Focus, Jenna. Just keep your mind on your objective.

Escape.

I had to escape somehow.

I put my head down and looked at the floor, trying to appear as resigned to my fate as possible.

I knew better than to voice my emotions or put up any kind of fight right now. I was still bearing the bruises and the pain from doing just that in the beginning without a plan.

I needed to catch Rico off guard to win any kind of physical fight with him. Rico had at least seven inches on my five-feet-four height and a huge amount of bulk on his side.

I was also undernourished and far weaker than I’d been ten days ago.

Seemingly impatient, Rico yanked the towel out of my hands and tossed it on the floor before shoving me out the door and through the house.

I’d been trying to breathe through my mouth to avoid the nausea that rose up to my throat from the stench of cigarette smoke and body odor in the house.

I finally took a deep breath when we stepped outside, grateful for the clear night full of stars and a bright moon that could help me find my way back to civilization if I could get away from Rico.

I’d know what direction to move toward. I was an astrophysicist who could read the moon and stars. My big problem was that I had absolutely no idea how far we’d traveled from the meteorite drop site and the city of Rosarito.

It could be a short distance or it could be more miles than I could possibly travel in one night. Since I’d been unconscious during my transfer to this place, I had no way of knowing.

Did it matter, though?

Anything would be better than being shipped to South America to become a sex slave.

I’d prefer to die trying to get away than to be transported to South America.

I breathed a sigh of relief as I noticed that Rico didn’t bother to pull the gun from the waistband of his pants.

We were halfway back to the holding facility when I sensed that I was getting my chance to escape.

Rico wasn’t armed and he seemed a little distracted.