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When I labored to look forward, we were sprawled in the backseat and through the windshield, I could see a line of black SUVs identical to ours, the red lights glowing in the night. I recognized Matteo at the wheel, his jaw taut but focused straight ahead. Turning to greet me in the passenger seat was Denis and I jerked away on instinct, the pain in my body reacting to its source.
“Darya,” Yuri whispered against my hair and pulled me into him, using his arm to shield me from both men in the front seats.
My throat clenched and I crumbled inside. Did he know? Did Yuri know that my father betrayed me? That his plan had failed? That I wasn’t important enough, cared for enough, to be worth saving? Would he be shielding me if he knew how worthless I truly was? It was only a matter of time before he figured it out— so I clung to him. My fingers entwined in his shirt, and I pressed my face to his chest, hoping his scent would bleat everything else out for even the slightest moment.
We swerved while the sirens faded, and Yuri shouted something in Spanish at Matteo. The car jerked to the left, flying down the road so quickly that thick gravel ripped at the black exterior and kicked up against the glass of the window. We bounced along, for how many minutes I didn't know. I was between delirium and reality when the car finally pulled to a stop and the sirens were no longer echoing in my ears.
Yuri’s arm disappeared and I heard the cocking of a gun “What the fuck happened?” he grated.
I wasn't sure who he was asking.
I peeled myself from Yuri, sucking in a deep breath to ready myself for whatever came next.
“It wasn’t the normal patrols; we’ve just upped their payments.”
“No shit, that was the fucking DEA.” Yuri growled. I shrank back, the anger rolling off of him in waves.
Denis turned, his hand rubbing against his neck and a nervous flush crept over his cheeks. “It had to have been the Desalmados.”
“It wasn't,” Matteo said. “It was Jameson.”
My attention ticked.
“What?” Yuri asked.
Matteo turned in his seat. “They wouldn’t have made a tip without bringing the heat on themselves. And…”
Yuri’s eyebrows ticked.
“I got a call. From Jameson.”
My stomach dropped out.
Yuri caught my gaze but refocused on his brother. It was clear he had no idea what everyone else in the car was so painfully aware of.
“He fucked us.” My eyes glazed over and the image of my father sitting behind his desk flashed across my face. I thought about our phone call and the things he told me I should do to protect myself.If you need to be sweet to save yourself, I won’t judge you.
Did he know then that he was going to forsake me?
Reality was setting in. He hadn't done what they wanted. He hadn't fulfilled their demands which could only mean one of two things. Either he had tried to comply, but someone discovered I was kidnapped and now my fate rested in the hands of the police, or– the more realistic option– he finally made it clear just how little I mattered to him.
My stomach rolled and I felt a wave of nausea. My hand clamped down on Yuri's thigh. “I think I'm going to be sick.”
He opened the door behind me and I scrambled out, barely making it onto the dirt before I fell to my knees and threw up everything in my stomach. It wasn't much, but my body purged everything inside until I was dry heaving– my throat feeling like it was going to cave in. I gasped for breath, the hot tears stinging my cheeks. My fingers clenched against the dirt. It was nearly pitch black without the glow of the headlights and I struggled to see a few feet in front of me.
To feel as though you're a burden, to have the idea that you mean nothing, is a whole hell of a lot different than to see it– in the flesh. Tangible. So close you can touch it. It was as if the universe set a sick trap and put together a skit for my father to make every wrong decision I hoped he wouldn’t.
The other SUVs noticed us pulled to the side and looped around to cage us in. One after another, men with rifles slung across their chests poured out of the vehicles until they were surrounding us again, even taking steps into the pitch-black expanse leading away from the road— just in case there was some unseen enemy waiting for this moment to strike.
Little did they know, they were probably seconds from turning their weapons on me.
“Darya,” Yuri called. I shook my head unable to face him
The cricking sound of another door opening behind me was barely audible over the roar of blood in my ears. Another rush of bile settled in the back of my throat, and I heaved forward, a shuddering ground ripping from my lips. My body ached.
A warm hand pressed against my shoulder. “Darya,” he whispered.
“Let’s get this over with,” Denis said over the cocking of a gun.
