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ESTEBAN
“Do you have everything you need?” I ask, staring at the bag Aurora has packed, which is much smaller than mine.
Glancing at it, she asks, “Are we planning on being gone for a long time?”
“I don’t believe so.”
She shrugs. “Then this is it.”
I smile at her, loving the fact that she’s not one of those high maintenance women who needs to pack the entire closet for a two-day trip. “Let’s go. Rodrigo’s probably burnt a hole in the floor waiting for us.”
“And popped a vein in his forehead. I can tell he doesn’t like me. That makes two on your staff who’d rather see me checked out of your life.” She smiles sadly, and it bothers me that anyone would make her feel this way.
“They’re just protective. I’ve known them for years. They were here when I allowed Raulino in and saw what he did with that trust. It’s hard to let someone in again after that.”
Shutting her lids slowly, she nods in agreement. “You’re right.”
I take her hand and tug her through the bathroom and bedroom, into the living room. I’m about to tell her to be patient with my guard, that he’ll come around, when she cries out, “Oh my God!”
She releases my hand, running out of my reach toward the glass sliding doors. That’s when I spot what has her rushing toward the patio. Rodrigo, lying face down in a pool of his own blood.
“Aurora, stop!” I call out, my arm outstretched. But I’m too late.
Just as she steps outside, a large man appears from behind the wall and, wrapping thick arms around her, snatches her up.
Without a second thought, I race to them. The man attempts to drag her away, but she kicks and screams, bucking so wildly that he can’t move fast enough. I throw my entire body weight against him, bringing them both down at the same time.
“Run!” I yell to her and she rolls away just as I lift myself, bracing one knee on his thigh at the same time that I strike my fist into his face.
He roars angrily, doing his best to shove me off. Though he does manage to elbow me in the ribs, it’s not enough to deter my attack. I pound into him, letting the image of Lorenzo Villegas on her that’s still emblazoned in my mind be the fuel behind each hit. My determination to never allow anyone to touch her again.
One well-placed whack on his nose breaks it, and blood splatters all over my shirt. But just as I’m about to end him, I’m hauled off him by three men, all much larger than me.
After they drag me several feet away, I’m forced to my knees, my arms held firmly behind me. I struggle against my captors but stop when I spot Aurora in the same position as me. She stares at me with regret, as if I’d blame her for getting caught.
In front of me, the man I’ve just pummeled into the pavement stands, wiping the blood from his nose. He goes to the other one who’s holding Aurora and grabs her by the arm, lifting her up hard. She digs her feet into the ground, but he manages to pull her to him.
“Calma, muñequita.” Calm down, doll. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he says.
“Let her go,” I growl to him, rolling my palms into fists. But one of the men securing me jerks my arm, twisting my shoulder in such a way that it feels like it might dislocate again, and I have to fight not to double over in pain.
The guy holding Aurora sees my grimace and smirks. “What are you going to do? You’re outnumbered, pendejo.”
“So it would seem.” It may be true, but that doesn’t mean I’m not mentally going over every possible action I could take that would get us out of this predicament. First, I consider the loaded gun I tucked into the pocket of the duffel bag, then glance at the weapon still in Rodrigo’s hand. If he went down with it on him, I’m not going to fare any better with my arms secured and the gun several feet away.
Next, I scan the area behind the house. Beyond the brick fence that surrounds the property, I not only have cameras and motion sensors, but several guards as well. Yet they’re nowhere to be seen at the moment. That means they were overtaken.
Even if I did manage to somehow free myself and disable these buffoons, it’s unlikely I’d make it beyond the gate.
“What do you want?” I ask, recalling Rodrigo’s warning that you can’t negotiate with these people, wondering now if he was right.
“The patron wants to have a chat with you.”
I don’t have to ask who their boss is. It’s easy enough to ascertain based on the Diablos tattoo I spy on the neck of one of them. “I don’t see him anywhere. Was he too afraid to come get me himself?”
He laughs. “Santos is a very busy man. You will to go to him.”
“I’ll do that. But you have to let her go.”
“You hear that, Montero? This bato doesn’t get it,” he says to his comrade with the tattoo. Then, wrapping his arm around Aurora’s neck, he hauls her to his chest hard enough to knock the wind from her as he says to me, “You don’t get to decide how this goes. Santos does.”
I tug on my arms, my instinct to kill him regardless of what happens to me. But he tightens his hold on her until she grasps his forearm and gasps.
My heart thunders loudly in my ears as I force myself to stop fighting.
Before I say something, the man named Montero turns to him, a scowl darkening his already hard features. “Jaime, loosen your hold on her.”
Instantly, Jaime obeys, and I realize the tattooed man is his superior. So I address him. “I will come with you, but I want her to remain here.”
“No. She’s insurance,” Montero informs me. “Santos wants you amiable.”
“How do I know he won’t simply kill her like you did Rodrigo after I agree to whatever the fuck it is he wants?”
He looks down at the body in front of him and gently nudges my man with the toe of his black combat boot. Rodrigo shifts, moaning loudly as he reaches for the gash on the back of his head. I’m flooded with relief at the sight of him breathing.
“You have my promise she’ll be safe,” Montero says.
I lift my gaze to Aurora’s, taking in her wide brown eyes. Terror fills me at the thought of losing her, but I nod in agreement. I have no choice.
Montero stands in front of Jaime, and much more carefully than I’d expect, he takes her. “Load those two in the car, then ride with them.
“Si, patron.” Jaime crouches, and as if Rodrigo is a heavy sack of potatoes, he lifts him over his shoulder and stands.
The two men holding me stand me up with more aggression than is necessary, but I say nothing. I don’t care how Rodrigo or I are treated as long as Aurora is safe.
We follow them through the house, toward the front. Aurora glances at me several times over her shoulder, the questions in her gaze obvious. Should I run? Should I fight?
I shake my head. The only thing that running or fighting would get us now is dead.
Outside, three black SUVs with darkly tinted windows wait for us. A man opens the door, and Jaime dumps Rodrigo in the back seat. Then he points to me. “Get in.”
Montero takes Aurora ahead to another one of the vehicles. She turns around to watch as I’m shoved in beside Rodrigo before she too enters, followed by Montero.
Three other men load in with me, Jaime at the wheel. He looks at me through the rearview mirror, laughing when Rodrigo slumps from the sitting position he was set in and falls into my lap.
His head is still bleeding, though not quite as profusely as before. I peer at the gash on the side, discovering it’s actually much smaller than it appeared. Still, concern for my friend has me searching for something to staunch the flow of blood.
“Rodrigo,” I say. “Can you hear me?”
