AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I was only going to the bus stop,” I said, a bit defensive. I hadn’t defied George’s warnings and wandered through the unfamiliar streets by myself. I knew the route to work using the bus, but I wasn’t confident navigating Mexico City on foot; George was too busy with work to show me around, and it would be stupid of me to risk getting lost on my own. The cartels might know my fiancé’s job with the DEA and target me.
A shudder wracked my body. That was exactly what had happened.
“Who took you?” he demanded. “Which cartel was responsible?”
“I…” I searched my dark memories for any clues about the identities of the men who’d taken me. “I don’t know.”
His lips thinned. “You’re fluent in Spanish, Evie. You teach English at the university for god’s sake. You must have been able to understand what they were saying around you.”
“They drugged me somehow. And when I woke up, I was blindfolded and gagged. They didn’t talk to me,” I blurted in an awful rush of remembered terror. “All they talked about was how they were going to use me as bait to get to you. They wanted to kill you, George.”
I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, clinging to him so that I could continue to feel his heartbeat against me. It quickened with anxiety for my distress, but his hold on me remained firm and reassuring.
“But who were they?” he insisted. “I have to know, baby. It’s the only way I can protect us. I can arrest the men responsible, and we’ll be safe.”
I shook my head against his chest. “I don’t know. I’m sorry. I don’t know.”
His strong arms flexed around me. “How did those men end up dead in that basement with you? Who called for the ambulance?”
Guilt twisted my gut. “I don’t know,” I said again, useless. “I couldn’t see any of them. They said…”
“What did they say?” he prompted when I hesitated.
I forced myself to sort through the jumbled memories of agony and fear. “There were two men with me in the basement, and then a third man spoke. He asked if I was innocent. He seemed angry.”
A shudder raced through me as the feral roar of rage echoed through my mind. Despite my residual terror, I knew deep in my bones that the third man had saved me. He’d killed his associates and set me free.
“Then one of them…hurt me,” I forced myself to say, skipping over the part where they’d tried to violate me. George didn’t need to know about that. It would only upset him more.
I gingerly touched the aching spot on my forehead. “I blacked out. I don’t know what happened after that. The next thing I knew, I was here with you.” I hugged him impossibly tighter. “You’re alive.” My voice hitched, and fresh tears wet his shirt.
They hadn’t killed my fiancé. He was warm and vital in my arms, heart beating steadily once again.
“You scared me, baby,” he confessed, a rare moment of vulnerability.
Guilt clawed at me. “I’m okay,” I promised again. “I’ll be more careful.”
“I should keep you at the apartment,” he rumbled. “I never should have agreed to allow you to teach at the university.”
“We need the money,” I countered. We were saving to buy our own home back in Albuquerque one day. We were partners, and I had to contribute to our future.
He grimaced. “I don’t want you going anywhere alone anymore. It’s not safe for you here.”
For a brief, selfish moment, I hoped he was going to declare that we were returning to New Mexico.
But I couldn’t allow him to abandon his aspirations with the DEA. George had always wanted to be in law enforcement, to be a force for good in this world. I had to support that noble dream.
“I’ll be more careful,” I vowed.
He pulled away from me, a small frown twisting his lips with disapproval. “Be honest with me, Evie. You weren’t going straight to the bus stop, were you? You were taking pictures again.”
The awful truth pierced my heart. I had paused to take some photos as I strolled to the bus stop. I’d promised George that I wouldn’t go out into the city with my camera like I would when I’d lived in Albuquerque, but sometimes I saw the perfect shot, and I pulled out my phone to capture the moment.
“I just stopped for a few minutes,” I protested. “I didn’t wander through the streets or anything.”
But even as I spoke, my cheeks heated with shame. This was all my fault.
My distraction had cost me dearly. I’d let my guard down to indulge my art, and I’d made myself an easy target.
