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AURORA
I didn’t have Raulino killed. Him… I killed myself.
Esteban’s words pulse through my mind as I’m escorted at gunpoint up the steps of a luxurious white jet. Though I didn’t get a chance to see the Empresa Falcon plane in person, I’ve seen it enough times on television to know this isn’t it. Whereas the company liner has its famous logo on both sides, this one is completely devoid of anything that would give away who is flying inside it.
I’m taken to the very back, beyond the plush ivory seats and mini bar stocked with several small bottles of Tequila El Falcon, through a heavy curtain that I’m sure will keep me hidden from view.
“Sientese,” Sit, I’m instructed by Rodrigo, the man I believed to be Esteban’s head of security, but now I’m left to wonder if he’s something else altogether. I do as he says, sitting in one of four seats attached to the wall meant for the crew. Before I can buckle the five-point harness, he does it for me, leaning in close to my ear. “And keep that mouth shut while you’re here. The boss is already in a foul enough mood.”
“Where are we going?”
He gives me a smile that sends a chill up my spine. “Somewhere you’ll wish you’d never seen.”
I tilt my chin upward, faking bravery I don’t feel in the least. “Why’s that?”
“Because after you have, Esteban will have to make a choice. Does he trust you enough with the knowledge to let you live?” His shoulders bounce with his chuckle. “I’ll give you one guess.” Suddenly his laughter stops, and in a menacing tone, he says, “If it were up to me, you’d be dead already.”
I grit my teeth to keep from snarling at him. He must notice the thin hold I have on my self-control, because he laughs harder. It’s been like this for hours, ever since Esteban ordered him to keep me out of his sight. Rodrigo took me to the Falcon building, where he proceeded to interrogate me, asking questions he already knew answers to and trying to get me to damn myself.
“Who sent you?” he demanded.
“No one! I’m here of my own accord.”
“Were you sent to kill him?”
“I already told you, I never intended on hurting him. I just wanted to scare him.”
The conversation went around in circles, until I began to wonder if perhaps he was right. That I was sent to kill Esteban. Then I reminded myself that wasn’t true. “No! I was here to find Raul’s murderer,” I affirmed, only to have the cycle begin anew. If Rodrigo had continued much longer, I probably would have gone mad and confessed to whatever he wanted me to, just to make it stop.
A guard slides in through the curtains, a rifle in his hands. He gives me a quick glance as he addresses Rodrigo, “The boss just drove up.”
Rodrigo turns from me, though his face is still close to mine. “I don’t want to know she’s here, got it? I want her dead quiet.”
“Si,patron.”
With that, he pushes away and leaves. The other guard, a much younger and not quite as mean-looking man, sits beside me. He doesn’t glance my way again, but his body language says he’s one hundred percent aware of me—the way his chest is facing toward me, as is the barrel of his rifle even though it’s pointed downward, and the slight tilt of his head in my direction.
Through the curtain, I hear men’s deep voices, followed by heavy footsteps that make the plane rock slightly. My heart rate increases because I realize one of those men must be Esteban.
It’s been hours since I saw him, but his shock at finding out who I am and the utter fury that darkened his gaze is still emblazoned in my mind. He believes I meant to kill him when I stabbed the pillow beside him. I didn’t lie to Rodrigo. In the moment, all I wanted to do was scare him, to show him I could kill him if I wanted to. And perhaps I did want to. How could I not? But the truth is, I could never go through with it. Not after I gave him my heart.
Him, on the other hand…
Ever since he sent me away, I’ve felt the sting of the guillotine at my neck. The ever-looming threat that any second, he’ll give the order that will end my life. Or maybe he’ll do it himself.
True terror grips me, holding my chest in a vise that makes it hard to breathe. I’m all too aware of what the cartel does to people they consider traitors. I’ve seen the photos of the torture, the dismembered bodies and the cruelty with which they dispose of them. Would Esteban be able to go through with something like that? Would he so easily dispose of me like he did Raul?
Rodrigo seems to think he will.
A door slamming shut and the engines powering up make me jump. Several minutes later, I sense movement, wheels rolling over the tarmac. Then I’m pressed into my seat and my stomach dips and constricts, as does the plane when it takes off.
I desperately wish there was a window back here I could peer through. It’s so disconcerting to lose all sense of direction like this, to be completely unaware of where we’re heading, or how much time has passed.
Shutting my lids, I lean my head back and concentrate on the vibrations beneath me. I doze off here and there, my head lolling back and forth. However, I’m quickly brought back to reality every time by the sound of the voices ahead of me and the one that stands out amongst them. Esteban’s.
Emotions battle within me, at complete odds with each other, tearing me apart. Tears I refuse to shed sting like acid in my eyes as I close them, keeping them from falling. But it doesn’t matter if they don’t fall. On the inside I’m crying. I’m screaming in agony and I hate him for it.
Yes, I hate him.
I hate him for what he’s done. For proving me right. For being a criminal. For killing Raul.
And I hate him for making me love him.
