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It didn’t seem likely.
And why hadn’t Yuri said anything about this?
Where was he?
We drove along the unrecognizable rural dirt roads until Matteo slowed to a stop in front of a massive building. I should have known it was our destination from the entourage of cars parked outside. It was old and crumbling but the foundation was still intact, the walls surging high into the air like a beacon. It stuck out like a sore thumb with perimeter lights that flickered every few minutes even in the daylight. The SUV pulled up close to the crumbling wall, hugging it on the driver’s side, and then we lurched to a stop. Matteo reached for the gun on the passenger seat and turned, speaking to my keeper in Spanish.
I was itching to open the door. My nails bit into my palms, stifling the urge to jump out and run, even knowing both men would be hot on my trail. Just the exertion alone would have made me feel better— to see that I was sitting idle as my captors delivered me to my death.
Matteo slipped out and opened the door. Denis’ hands snaked around my waist, pulling me flush against his chest as he scooted us out into the stifling heat. I went limp against him, trying not to focus on the way his body was stirring on mine. He chuckled in my ear as he closed the door behind him.
He kept a guiding hand on the small of my back as we walked along the outer edge of the building. After a little way, we came to a heavy steel door that Matteo wrenched open and the three of us ducked inside. The inside was just as huge. The main room was like a barn, stuffed at the edge with strange machinery, boxes, and stacks of wood and metal paneling. Along the right side, the walls jutted out to form offices with tiny window peepholes. I imagined this was once a vibrant factory brimming with workers, constantly alive with the sounds of hard labor. Now, the breeze whistled through the rafters and there was a slight groan every few minutes. Voices carried and a handful of men hung around already waiting for us, each brandishing their own weapon. Upon seeing Matteo, the men straightened and bowed their heads slightly, making way for the beastly man. The place smelled of mildew and decades of dust, stirred up more and more the farther we trudged inside.
Matteo settled near one of the peepholes, craning his head in every direction until he was satisfied with the location. He barked something to Denis and the other men before heading in the opposite direction from which we came. A few of the others followed and I heard another door creak open. The men who stayed spoke to Denis, nodding at me and laughing every so often until I felt a hard push against my back. I nearly stumbled but caught myself against the hard concrete. “Get comfortable,” Denis ordered.
I turned and pressed my back against the wall, sliding down until I could wrap my arms around my knees while the men chatted. I didn’t even fool myself into thinking I could understand a word of what they were saying, and I cursed myself for not paying better attention in school.Where was Yuri?
We waited together once Matteo returned, an eerie silence settling among us. Denis made sure not to stray far from me. Occasionally he bent down and played with a lock of my hair or nudged me with the tip of his dirty boot, each time seeking praise from the men I was sure were his subordinates. At some point, my willingness of put up with his childish, taunting behavior disappeared and when he squatted next to me and let his fingers drag down my side, I snapped. With both my hands squeezed into fists, I shoved him backward until his ass slapped against the dirt. “Don’t touch me,” I barked out.
He rose so fast, that I didn’t even have time to blink. He surged forward, the butt of the gun slamming against my temple. “Stupid bitch,” droplets of spit slapped against the side of my face as I fell to my side, cradling my head. The pain was immediate, and I struggled to open my eyes for fear that my vision would be completely black.
“Denis,” I struggled to hear Matteo call out.
I grappled against the ground, trying to push myself up when fingers laced through my hair and yanked me upright. “You do that again and I’ll slit your throat.”
“No, you won’t,” I croaked, still squeezing my eyes shut.
I whimpered when his hand fisted against my sensitive scalp. “What did you say?”
“You can’t kill me. You need me alive,” I sucked in a breath as he snarled, “for the plan to work.”
A quick shove and I was back against the dirt floor, peeling my lids open against the pain in my head. I vaguely registered the wide-eyed stares of the men and the sounds of Denis’ boots as he walked away.
We sat in silence well after the sun sank. I passed the time counting the steps of the nameless men as they milled about, waiting for orders or movement. Denis was perched at one exit after he was done tormenting me— thank God— and Matteo stood against the other one. When I allowed thoughts to trickle through my tender head, they were of Yuri. Where was he? When was the last time I’d seen him? Would I ever see him again?
Something visceral ripped through my body when I thought I would never see him again. It was like the recoil of a gun, the whiplash of a car crash. It jolted through me and constricted my breathing. I wasn't sure when he’d come to be so damn important, but the idea of not at least getting to say goodbye was crushing.
Suddenly, the sound of faraway tires on the crackled ground coincided with an obnoxious alarm ringer in Matteo’s direction. I was torn, spinning my head both ways even as the motion made me dizzy and a bit nauseous from Denis’ blow. The men were also pulled in two directions, some peeked around Denis who stuck his head out to see the incoming vehicle while others waited for Matteo’s direction.
“Mande,” Matteo’s voice was low. I strained to listen over the rumblings across the room. He said a few clipped words, before shouting filled the air.
“Policía, policía,” I knew what that meant. Denis slammed the metal door shut, the walls shaking from the impact.
He pointed at items shoved against the wall, screaming at the men who jumped into action. They yanked until the old rusty pieces of machinery slammed against the ground in front of the door. There they sat, acting as a barrier to the outside world— or at least what was arriving on the other side.
My heart leaped in my chest, and I pushed myself off the ground, attempting to stand on unsteady feet. I wasn't sure if I was dizzy from possibly being rescued, the chaos in the warehouse, or because of the head injury that I was beginning to suspect was a concussion. As the men continued to shout back and forth and run to gather more items to store in front of the door my feet guided me in the direction of Matteo who still held the phone up to his ear. I couldn't hear what he was saying. But every now and then his lips would move.
Halfway to him, I stopped, and a sinking feeling flooded me. As he lowered the phone. His eyes narrowed and his jaw ticked. I sucked in a breath, suddenly feeling as though all the air around me was smoke and I was suffocating.
The sound of tires approaching grew louder and the voices of the men grew softer.
“What did he say?” Denis asked.
Matteo’s eyes flicked to him as if, for a moment, he had been off in his own world. He shook his head slightly before returning his gaze back to me. He slid the phone in his jacket pocket and put his hand back behind his back, pulling the gun out of his waist.
The gun, I expected— the deadly indifference was startling.
“Who was that on the phone?” I asked. All the chaos had calmed until only the thrum of my pulse slammed in my ears. Matteo didn’t answer. “Tell me!” I screamed.
