AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Fuck,” he muttered when he noticed the blood pooling down his arm. Luckily, the bullet had only grazed him. Still, the gash was big enough that he would need sutures, as he’d expected.
Already used to this, he disinfected a needle and thread, pouring a generous amount of the liquid on his arm as well. Gritting his teeth, he started working on himself. Due to the position of the wound, he had a hard time reaching it properly, but he made do.
If his background had helped him with anything, it was with this. In this moment, he was grateful for his experiences growing up, because they had taught him how to act in the face of an emergency—how not to lose his calm and keep his attention in the game.
Maybe it had all been for a bigger purpose—all so he could survive this trial.
Although it wasn’t easy, and there was nothing with which he could numb his pain, Raf managed to sew the gash up and apply a bandage on top of it.
Taking a deep breath, he stared at the mirror in front of him, barely recognizing himself.
How long had it been since he’d last stared at his own reflection?
His skin was sallow, his muscles taut from the pain. Without his shirt on, he could see the various scars running the entire length of his torso—some old, from his time with Armand, and some new, from the hacienda.
His hair, too, was longer than it had ever been, reaching his shoulders.
Armand had always made sure he was groomed to perfection, and that meant his head had always been shaved, so that the wigs he forced him to wear would be secure in place. Armand had… particular tastes, and to a degree, Raf was happy to see his long hair. It was a testament to the passage of time and the fact that his time with that monster was all in the past.
Done patching up his wound, he put on the fresh shirt, wincing as he struggled to put his arm through the sleeve.
“How the hell do I get home now?” he muttered as he stared in the mirror.
He didn’t even know where he was currently. He’d simply driven aimlessly on the highway in an attempt to get as far away from his pursuers as possible. He had no passport, or any form of identification to be able to cross the border. And he feared that if he did contact the embassy, Sergio could track him down.
It was clear he had contacts in high up places, otherwise there would be no way for him to control such a vast area and rule it as if it was an autonomous region.
The more he pondered his situation, the more he realized they probably anticipated that he would seek help from the embassy so he could exit the country. And when he did, they would be able to find him.
That meant he couldn’t do that—nor could he try calling anyone at home.
While there was the danger of Sergio finding out where he was in Mexico, there was the danger of his brother back home. Raf didn’t know who would intercept his call, and he might get from a bad situation to a worse one. No, he was entirely on his own.
The only option was for him to get home incognito. And that meant… finding someone to help him cross the border illegally.
For the first time, luck was on his side. As he exited the bathroom and headed to his car, he happened to hear a conversation between two men who were talking about crossing the border with a truck full of people.
Raf approached them carefully and offered them the money he had left for a spot in the truck. After a bit of back and forth, they agreed to let him tag along.
Raf left his car behind, getting in the back of the truck with twelve other people.
And so the journey started.
twenty-seven
It tookthem twelve hours to get to the border with New Mexico, after which the crossing was a mix of stealth and terror as they tried their best to evade the border authorities.
At that point, everything started to blend together for Raf. His withdrawal had started a couple of hours earlier, getting worse and worse with each passing minute. Although they managed to cross into the States, Raf was left on his own somewhere in the desert.
He didn’t remember saying goodbye to the men, or even watching them leave. His mind was a whirlpool of confusion as his body was wracked by tremors. His palms were clammy, sweat covering his entire torso as he struggled with the combination of heat and his body’s need for the drug.
He started walking, numbly putting one foot in front of the other, without any aim or direction. He simply went forward.
His mouth was dry, his eyes bloodshot red. By the time another hour had passed of him wandering in the desert, his water supply was finished, as was his food.
Was he hungry? He couldn’t tell, but he was completely parched and there was no water source in sight.
He kept walking.
