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Someone fidgeted with the lock of the trunk just as the seconds stretched into an infinity for Raf. He was frozen to the spot, his body languid even as alarm bells rang in his mind.
Light filtered through the darkness. The hood was lifted one inch—enough for his dark corner to be inundated with light.
He winced, shielding his eyes. He’d been so long without light that it immediately hurt his eyes.
Yet just as the person was about to open the trunk, he heard two voices arguing before the men stepped away from the car. He shuffled inside the trunk, his hand on his pouch as he fitted his ear to the fissure of the trunk.
“If you don’t have my money then this is going to be a problem,” one of the men said in Spanish.
The other replied something, but their voices became increasingly distant.
The moment Raf felt confident that they were far enough, he used what little strength he had to push the hood of the trunk up. With his pouch firmly grasped in his hand, he exited the car on shaky legs.
He looked right and left in an effort to avoid detection, sighing in relief when he realized there was no one paying attention to him.
He was in a town.
Frowning, he took in his surroundings as he wobbled away from the car. He didn’t know who it belonged to, and the last thing he needed was for someone to recognize him.
He walked briskly down a few streets, doing his best to get lost before he finally stopped to calm himself.
His heart was racing, his limbs sluggish as he felt himself already out of breath and exhausted. Luckily, though, he spotted a park with a bench to his right. Pushing himself forward, he dragged his feet to the bench, plopping himself on it and taking a deep breath into his battered lungs.
Immediately, he reached for what little water he had left in his pouch, drinking greedily. When he was done, he finally managed to peek inside the pouch, his eyes widening in awe at the contents.
While he’d been in the trunk, he’d managed to feel around the inside of the pouch, and besides the water, he’d supposed Lucero had given him some spare cash and some supplies. But he was shocked to seemorethan just spare cash. Taking the notes out, he counted them.
One hundred thousand pesos. That was a few thousand dollars in U.S. currency.
How could a serving girl have so much money?
He stared at the money for moments on end.
Good God, but what had she had to do to get that money?
Tears trickled down his cheeks and he dabbed at them with the back of his hand as he quickly put the money away and out of sight. God, but he couldn’t imagine how she’d managed to get her hands on that type of cash. He truly hoped she hadn’t done anything dangerous for his sake.
He wasn’t worth it.
Damn, but he hadn’t been worth it time and time again, but still, she’d taken risk after risk in order to help him.
Why?
Why had she put him above her own being? What had she seen in him that he couldn’t?
Raf closed his eyes as he tried to conjure up her voice—that sweet melody that made him feel as if he was worthy when he knew he wasn’t.
He didn’t see himself as worth saving, but because she had—because she’d put all her trust in him—he wouldn’t disappoint her.
Bringing his attention back to the bag, he frowned as he removed a few small vials with a clear liquid. For a moment he couldn’t understand why she’d put those in the pouch, but soon he realized what that must be.
The drug.
The goddamn drug that had enslaved him.
She must have realized he wouldn’t survive if he went into withdrawal and she’d taken care of that too.
“My smart girl,” he whispered, a small smile on his face. “I won’t disappoint you,” he said as he put everything back.
