43

Sofia Pacheco twisted her hands in her lap, inadvertently rattling her chains. “I’m sorry, sir,” she mumbled when Nacho glanced her way.

He frowned. “You don’t need to call me ‘sir’ anymore.” Turning back to his driving, he steered the top-heavy van around a curve.

She studied his profile. Slender and boyish, he didn’t look like the other men. The coyotes had often leered at her as their lewd remarks peppered her from between brown teeth, their grease-stained hands forming crude gestures punctuated by grunts and laughter as she scurried by. The memory left a shudder in its wake. Gracias a dios, Nacho didn’t act like them either, because she was in his custody. For now.

“Are we going to Mexico, si—” She blanched. “Um … do you want me to call you Ignacio?”

“Everyone calls me Nacho.”

“All right … Nacho. Are we headed for Mexico?”

He nodded. “If our relays are still in place, we can make it past Border Patrol.”

The mere mention of her country evoked distorted images that flickered through her mind as if streamed from a weak connection. She remembered making plans with her twin sister for their joint quinceañera, helping her abuela make tamales for Christmas dinner, lighting a candle to place next to Papá’s picture on the ofrenda during Día de los Muertos. Mexico was home.

And it was hell.

She’d last seen her homeland over a month ago. Like now, Nacho had driven her there from Phoenix. In chains. She’d begged him to let her go home, but he took her to the Villalobos family compound.

El Lobo had punished Sofia for her sister’s betrayal. He’d chosen to carry out the sentence personally, beating her with a leather strap and dragging her to the dungeon. She’d starved for days before Nacho convinced Señor Adolfo he needed her to help him hack into the Policía Federal Ministerial server. But before he turned her over to Nacho, Hector Villalobos had branded her with the wolf logo. She would never forget his words as he pressed the metal to her flesh. “You will always be cartel property. My property.”

And now she was going back. Nacho had always treated her with compassion, but he was not in charge, did not control her fate. What if she had to work on El Lobo’s computer? His evil black eyes haunted her nightmares. If she saw him again, she would faint from sheer terror. A tear escaped the corner of her eye and she dashed it away.

The clinking chains drew Nacho’s gaze. “Do those hurt?”

She shook her head. “I’m okay.”

He swallowed audibly. “This is the last border town before we meet our contacts. We need to talk.”

She followed his gaze to a cross street ahead of them. A dingy diner, a dilapidated used tire shop, and a gas station with a convenience store comprised the business district. He pulled into an empty lot surrounded by a rusting chain link fence and cut the engine.

The unfamiliar silence unnerved her. Had she made him angry?

Nacho turned in his seat to face her. “Hector Villalobos is closing a deal on a technology firm in Mexico City. In less than a month, he’ll have more than sixty full-time computer experts on board. He’ll shut the business down and put them to work for the cartel. Who’s going to stop him?”

Señorita Daria’s words rushed back to her. She began to tremble. With so many other potential hacking experts around, what could she offer the cartel? Until now, her computer skills had kept her from a horrible fate. Those skills would soon be—the trembling turned into shaking as she recalled the word Señorita Daria had taught her—redundant.

“I think you know what this means,” Nacho said.

His solemn expression confirmed her worst fears. She had seen the women who were forced to work as sex slaves. Gaunt, haggard creatures who suffered constant abuse, they were kept in brothels until no client wanted them. And then they were disposed of. She’d heard a coyote describe it as “taking out the garbage.”

She looked up at Nacho, tried to speak, and burst into tears. As the sobs wracked her body, she felt Nacho’s silent watchful gaze.

He waited for her to collect herself before he continued. “Adolfo called me yesterday to get certain … information. He said El Lobo was asking about you.”

She hiccupped, took a deep breath, and spoke around the lump in her throat. “What does he want with me?”

The inkling of an answer edged its way in, setting off her internal alarm system. She’d suffered so much in the past few months. Through it all, she’d managed to keep her faith, her dignity, and her self-respect. She feared she would lose all three when she got to the compound.

“Sofia, I need to ask you a question.”

Unable to respond, she simply nodded.

Nacho shifted in his seat and cleared his throat. “Are you a virgin?” A red scald crept up from his collar past his bobbing Adam’s apple.

She bowed her head. Of course, he would have his doubts. She spent almost every waking minute with Nacho, but there had been times when one of the coyotes had ordered her to work on a personal computer or tablet. And there had been the days she’d spent in the dungeon, subject to the guards. Yet no one had touched her. And Señorita Daria had explained why.

But El Lobo would probably want to be certain. Daria had said virgins fetched a high price. Was he planning to auction her off like cattle?

“Sofia.”

Her head snapped up at Nacho’s impatient prompting. Should she lie? She did a quick calculation and decided she would almost certainly get caught. Better to go with the truth.

“I am a virgin.”

The look of relief on Nacho’s face stunned her. Was he about to get some sort of bonus for delivering her untouched? Anger followed quickly. She had believed he cared for her. Thought he was different because he’d never physically harmed anyone. Now he had shown her his true colors. And he was every bit as vile as those he served.

Nacho drew a deep breath as if steeling himself. “When we get to the compound, I have to turn you over to Adolfo. He’ll have you checked by a doctor and made presentable.”

“Presentable?” She pictured livestock on an auction block. “Presentable for what?”

“For El Lobo.” Nacho looked away. “He’ll want you for himself.”

The lump that had been in her throat plummeted down to her stomach, sending up a molten blast of bile in its place.

“No.” She shook her head. “No. This can’t be happening.”

Nacho clasped her hand. “I can’t let that happen.”

“So you’re going to take my virginity?” She blinked. “Now?”

“No.” He drew the word out, rolling his eyes. “I thought you knew. Thought you could tell. I … care about you. A lot.”

She could barely keep up with the emotions whirling through her. Instead of threatening her, Nacho was … what? Trying to help her? She couldn’t trust the tiny bud of hope that began to unfurl. Not when so many previous hopes had been crushed. Besides, why would he give a shit what happened to her when he clearly had a future with the cartel? Why would he risk it for a scrawny, beaten-down, underfed girl destined for one of the brothels when El Lobo tired of her?

“You care,” she whispered, “about me?”

“I know what’s in store for you if you go back to the compound.” He shook his head. “You’re so pretty, so delicate, so sweet.” Sorrow filled his eyes. “You won’t survive.”

Her face flamed. “You think I’m pretty?”

He pulled her into his arms. “I think I’ve fallen in love with you, Sofia Pacheco.” He kissed the top of her head. “But I’m a wanted fugitive and—oh yeah—I work for a ruthless killer who wants you for himself.” He gave her a lopsided smile. “No happily ever after for us.”

“You could leave the cartel,” she said.

He stroked her matted hair. “Then I would be on the run from the law and the cartel. I wouldn’t last a week. My best hope would be a US jail cell.” He snorted. “No thanks.”

She leaned against him quietly, aware he spoke the truth.

After holding her a long moment, he broke the embrace. “See that gas station?” He took out the key to her manacles as she nodded. “I’m going to pull in to top off the tank.” He laid the key on the console. “Then I’m going to the bathroom in the back and you’re going to escape.”

“Nacho, they’ll kill you if you come back without me. I know too much about their business.”

“You don’t know as much as you think. I’ve limited you to hacking. I’ve never let you work on Villalobos business accounts or handle banking transactions. I’ll take my beating. It’ll be worth it.”

The young man who had been her captor had become her savior. She couldn’t bear the idea of him suffering for helping her.

Anguish raised her voice to a shrill shreak. “They won’t beat you, they’ll butcher you!”

“I’ve made up my mind. If you won’t cooperate, I’ll leave you at the gas station unconscious.” He slid his knuckles along her cheek. “I’d rather not.”

“I’m scared for you, Nacho.”

“I only ask one thing.” His eyes bored into hers. “When the cops interview you, stick with the story that you escaped. That’s why I’m having you go through the motions. Your story will stand up to questioning if you can remember what you actually did rather than try to make shit up.” He framed her face with his hands. “El Lobo has spies everywhere. If he finds out I let you go, he’ll go out of his way to make my death memorable as an example to the others.” He brushed her tears away with his thumbs. “This has to stay between us. You cannot tell a single soul. Not even your mother or your sister. No one, understand? My life depends on it.”

Her heart broke. “No one can ever know that you saved my life? That you are a good man?”

“I chose this life, bonita. This is the price I must pay.” A single tear coursed down his cheek as he brought her lips to his for a tender kiss.