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Marisa
The last thing I remember was being thankful I heard Guadalupe’s voice up ahead.
“Wake up.Despiértate,” I heard the voice calling to me.
My eyes popped open. I wasn’t in the tunnel anymore. I was in a room. A bedroom, to be precise. And it wasn’t mine.
“What—where? Where am I?¿Dónde estoy?”
“Don’t worry,muchacha.”
“Where’s Lupe?”
“You are both safe,” he said. “For now.”
I remembered now how Guadalupe and I had been drugged when I caught up to her, Jorge, and Daniel. There had been a car, Lupe and I had been drugged, and somehow, we ended up here. Wherever here was.
“Tell me,chica, how is it you are still alive? Yet five of our men are dead?”
“They’re not dead,” I said, trying to sit up on the bed. “Not all of them anyway.”
He helped me to a sitting position, my feet hitting the floor beneath me. I took a few breaths and held my head, pretending to be worse off than I was. I had to sell my story. Or I was dead. “You guys took Lupe. I couldn’t get past the other guys. One of them—the one with the scar on his eyebrow started shooting. The cops fired back. He got hit right in the head and dropped. The other two in front started shooting. The guy to my right got hit first. I took his gun and started firing back too. But then the others got shot. One fell dead. The others were hit. I got one of them up with me. The other one was stuck. He told me to leave him. I just turned and ran. That’s when I got to you.”
“So, where is he?”
I played dumb. “Who?”
“The one who you said was with you?”
“What do you mean where is he?”
“He wasn’t with you when you got to us.”
“He was right behind me when I took off to find you. I don’t know where he went.”
“Hijo de puta!”
I winced against his shouting, keeping my fake pain in play.
“Lo siento.Sorry,chica.”
I waved my hand. “Está bien. Can I see Lupe?” I needed to get to her. See how she was and if there was any chance I could get some time alone with her.
“I’ll be back for you.” He left without another word. And I was left alone. By myself. With only my thoughts.
I checked every window and door of the room I was in. There was no way out. Every access point was locked. My way out was sealed. I just had to hope and pray that my fate wasn’t as well. I played out the series of events, repeating everything on a loop, making sure I had my story straight.
No one but me really knew what happened in the tunnel. I was pretty sure I was safe on that end. I just had to sell my story. And Alonso López just had to buy it.
The story I had just told wasn’t even close to the truth. I had actually shot two of the thugs so they couldn’t get away. What I just told—that everyone in the tunnel was hit, that I shot a cop, and one of our guys was with me when I turned to catch up with Jorge, Daniel, and Lupe was complete bull. I thought I was pretty convincing selling the idea that the guy with me must have fallen or something because the last time I knew he was right behind me. Yes, this would work. It had to.
I was supposed to get Lupe and me out of the club safely. I just hoped my team had eyes on me. Somehow, someway, I hoped Tyler was working with them.
The rattling of a key in the lock had me jumping back to the end of the bed, sitting and waiting patiently, like the dutiful little drug lord I was pretending to be.
Lupe entered the room with a thug I hadn’t seen before. “C’mon,” he said. “Señor López wants to see you.”
Her face was puffy and marred. She’d been beaten, manhandled, and who knew what else. I stamped down the urge to come to her defense, knowing it wasn’t my place to say anything or try to save her at this moment.
