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“I’m okay, Dante,” she said reassuringly. She’d meant to reassure him and have him leave. He didn’t. “Jose, it’s been a long time.”
“Too long,” Jose tipped the bridge of her nose with his finger then placed his hands on his hips as he evaluated the damage. The gold star of his Marshal’s badge attached to his belt caught the sun’s ray.
“You’re the Marshal working with Javier?” Jenny kept her updated with the gossip. Jose left for the military, despite his parent’s wishes and joined the Marshal Service. Villa San Juan, being wedged between Alabama, Louisiana and Florida had become home to one of the office branches.
“I plan on helping if he could locate my,” he stopped and took a deep breath, “Hannah.”
“We’ll find her,” Dante rubbed Harley’s back in a circular motion.
With all the chaos surrounding her, Harley appreciated Dante’s comforting touch. A pounding sound went off in her head. Her eyes searched the area. Something wasn’t right. More pounding. Was this it? Was she about to have a heart attack or an aneurism at least?
To make matters worse, Julio came over, clasping his hand with Jose’s, then reached out to touch Harley’s other shoulder. “I’ve just learned from my friends at the Coast Guard. They’ve stopped the ship trying to come in but nothing’s been found. A few other ships turned around in the Gulf but they’re chasing them down now. So far there’s no sign of the girls in the water. We’re checking all the containers now.”
Another task team drove down into the quarry. Men and women decked out in desert camouflage clung to the back of five jeeps and drove down through the crates starting with the ones in the back. Harley didn’t question them, glad there were people working and glad the hostile interaction between Dante and Julio ceased. They were all here for one reason.
The pounding started. Harley’s knees weakened and she fell against Dante’s back.
“Sit down,” he ordered, dragging her to what was left of the limo’s seat and knelt before her. “You may have a concussion. Where are you hurting?”
“My head,” Harley touched her head but failed to pinpoint the pounding. She tapped her ears.
“We need to take you to a real doctor,” Julio said peering over Dante’s shoulder.
“What the fuck do you mean a real doctor?” Dante growled over his shoulder, “I patched her up just fine.”
“Key word patched, this isn’t a time of war,” Julio snorted and extended his hand.
Dante returned the snort. “Where were you when those body armor piercing bullets were flying through the air? Do you think this car came from the junk yard?”
“Harley, let me take you to the hospital. They’ll bring Hannah to us.”
“Dude, seriously?”
The annoyance registering in Dante’s voice signaled the start of World War D. She thought it best to lay a gentle hand on Dante’s shoulder. “We’re just fine, Julio, thank you though.”
The day had come where she rejected Julio. Not out of spite but because she was no longer interested. She wasn’t sure what path she and Dante were headed on, all she knew was she wanted to be on his path. Julio opened his mouth to speak or argue but Jose patted his arm, wisely, the brothers moved on to Javier.
“If Javier gets his way, he’s going to need to testify against Marchette.”
“I should have shot him,” Harley looked down at Dante’s knees. “I had the shot.”
“But you saved Tito and I’m pretty sure he’s happy about it.”
With the jeeps out of earshot, the pounding became clearer. She locked eyes with Dante’s. The corners of his eyes crinkled with curiosity. “Tell me you heard that noise?”
“What?”
Harley stood between Dante’s legs and craned her ear toward the sound. A faint pounding started again. She took a step forward. Dante tried to stop her but he couldn’t. The pounding in her heart wouldn’t stop. Neither would the pounding she heard. She had to figure out where it was coming from. Carefully she walked in the spots on the ground not cluttered with glass, blood or dead men around to the backside of the office. Secluded from the rest of the cargo, a rust colored crate eight feet tall and about twenty feet long stood behind the office. The way the road came around on the hill, it would have been impossible to spot it right off. The banging grew louder. Inside, girls’ screams grew stronger. Harley’s heart began to race.
The tears threatening earlier reappeared. She wasn’t sure she could take another step. Hannah was in there. She felt it in her bones. Chills spread up and down her arms. Dante came up beside her, wrapping one arm around her waist and pulling her other arm over his shoulder. He tried to lift her but she shook her head, wanting to run. With her feet torn up she hobbled closer, faster. From inside the container she heard Hannah’s voice.
Dante signaled for someone to come and cut the lock to the doors. Someone started cutting the doors with orange handled bolt cutters. As each bolt was cut, Harley felt her heart leap closer out of her chest. Dante squeezed the nape of her neck with each cut. Finally, after what seemed like a lifetime, the doors opened and leading the pack of a dozen pale faced young women was none other than Hannah Tomasello.
Harley allowed the sob to come out. Her knees buckled and she fell to the ground. Hannah ran to her, her eye still swollen from her run-in at the jail, and fell down in front of her. Their tears fell unabashedly.
“I’m so sorry!” Hannah cried over and over. “I trusted Mr. Baez.”
“It’s okay,” Harley cooed, “it’s okay. You’re safe now.”
