Cruz
I had to get her out of there. Tonight.
Not only did she know who I really was, but she was in danger from Chavez. I knew him well enough to know that he wouldn’t let the little scene upstairs go. He’d purposely asked me to accompany them today to show me that Lydia was his. The kiss in the study, the roaming hands all day. I’d not done a very good job keeping my emotions in check, and he’d known it.
Which meant we were both in danger.
I took the phone out from its hiding place and dialed the number.
“Mario’s Pizza—”
“Blake it’s me. We need an exit strategy now. Tonight.”
“What’s happened?”
“I don’t know exactly, but Chavez is acting strange. Just trust me on this. We need out. Now.”
“I’m on it. Check back with me in two hours. I’ll let you know what the plan is.”
“Roger that.”
“Be safe, man.”
“Always.”
I disconnected the call and replaced the phone. I was about to leave my room, when someone knocked on the door. Sliding the Glock from the back of my pants, I held it tightly in my right hand while opening the door with my left.
Juan Carlos stood at the door, a smile plastered on his face that I didn’t like at all.
“Chavez has requested your presence at dinner. Get dressed.”
He walked away before I could say anything, and I shut the door.
Nope. This was not good at all. It was obvious Chavez was toying with us. If I didn’t report in at the scheduled time, Blake would send backup. I just needed to keep us alive.
I pulled on some black slacks and a blue button-down shirt. Dress code for dinner was usually more formal than I liked to dress. It was the best I could do on short notice.
Hurrying down the corridor, I arrived just as Lydia was and cursed our luck. Before I could motion her in first, Chavez made his appearance known, smiling at us both.
“You look lovely, Lydia.” He kissed her on the cheek and took her hand in his. “You clean up well, Cruz.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Let me introduce you to my friends.” I followed behind Chavez and entered the dining room, and what I saw stopped me cold. The leader of the gang El Sangre, the Miami branch, Salvador Martinez, stood with a woman on his arm. He was dressed in all black, his greasy hair pulled back low in a ponytail. Another man stood beside him, his number one, Butch Cortes.
Shadow Force had effectively shut down the Atlanta faction a few weeks ago, but I knew that the Miami bunch were far worse and a much larger organization. They prided themselves on their role in the skin trade and locally owned most of the pimps and brothels in Miami. From the look on Lydia’s face, she knew exactly who we were dining with.
“Cruz, Lydia, this is Salvador Martinez and his partner Butch Cortes.”
Salvador left his date and swaggered over, taking Lydia’s hand in his and lifting it to his lips to kiss her knuckles. I saw her stiffen, but other than that she gave no reaction.
“Pleased to meet you.” Her voice was quiet but confident. Good girl.
“The pleasure is all mine.” Salvador’s Spanish accent was thick and heavy. Rumor had it he’d escaped from a Cuban prison, where he’d been for raping and killing a woman, and made his way to the States hidden in the cargo hold of a ship he’d stowed away on. He’d changed his name, bought fake identification, and had operated under the radar for the most part. The DEA hadn’t been able to touch him so far.
“Let’s eat, shall we?”
I noticed neither man addressed me. What was Chavez playing at?
The plan was pretty obvious once the meal was served, and he turned his conversation to Salvador and the success of his trading. I’d been seated between Butch, who never said a word, and Salvador. Lydia sat across from me, sandwiched between Chavez and Salvador’s arm candy. I knew it was intentional once the topic of conversation was bantered about.
“Our storage facility is full to the max at the moment. What we don’t export, we plan to use here in Miami.”
Lydia’s fork clattered to her plate, and she lifted her hand in apology. “So sorry.”
“No problem, darling. You’ve had a long day, what with your headache and all.”
There wasn’t an ounce of sympathy or sincerity in Chavez’s voice, and that bad feeling I had was growing by the moment.
“Where do you get your inventory?” Chavez directed the conversation back to Salvador.
“Mostly around the city. We have had some friends pass along items that haven’t worked for them for whatever reason. Whether they’ve been tried on by others in their employ or if they just stopped pleasing their employer for whatever reason.”
The blood drained from Lydia’s face, and it took all the training and self-control I possessed not to go to her and get her out of this hellhole immediately. I tapped her foot lightly under the table, and when her eyes met mine, I gave a small shake of my head, begging her not to react.
“We’ve also had no issue ridding our clients of those in their employ who have taken what wasn’t theirs.”
Ah, there it was. The warning for me. I continued to eat, not giving them the satisfaction of knowing I knew what they were talking about. And definitely not making eye contact with Lydia.
“Emilio, must we talk about these things at dinner?”
“You don’t like hearing of Salvador’s business ventures?”
Lydia lowered her voice but not low enough that the entire table couldn’t hear.
“He trafficks women for a living. That’s hardly a business.”
Salvador chuckled next to me as he took a sip of wine. His eyes darted over to meet mine, and he smirked, smug in his confidence in toying with us, trying to scare us. It was working on Lydia, but they had no idea what I’d been through in my life. The attempt was child’s play.
Chavez stood, pushing his chair back as it clattered to the floor. Lydia flinched as he took her arm and pulled her from her seat. I stood immediately, ready to step in if needed.
“It seems you only want to embarrass me in front of my friends. First, you try to seduce one of them, and now you’re insulting one. Apologize!” His voice thundered through the room. Salvador’s arm candy still seemed quite bored, and I wondered what drugs were raging through her system.
“I—I’m so sorry, Salvador. My apologies.”
Chavez released her, shoving her into her seat. “Eat!” His command brokered no argument, and Lydia picked up her fork, bringing a bite of salmon to her lips, her hand shaking like a leaf. I sat too, knowing that we were both skating on thin ice.
“So, Cruz, Chavez tells me you used to be military. Why’d you leave?”
Salvador’s question caught me off guard. I’d stuck as close to my true background as possible. Since Washington had created a whole new identity for me when I’d been rescued and pronounced dead, I had a military record that had ended after a few terms and a trumped-up drug charge. Then a few nicks on my record to show arrests had sealed the deal that I’d officially turned on Uncle Sam and was living la vida criminal. Chavez had bought it hook, line, and sinker.
“Me and the military weren’t getting along so well.”
“Really? And why was that?”
“Too many rules. Not enough freedoms. Plus, I kind of liked my vices at the time, if you know what I mean.” I winked for effect, and Salvador just nodded his understanding.
“And since then? What exactly have you been up to?”
I shrugged as if nothing he said fazed me. “Not a lot. A few arrests. Then I decided to put my military training to use and started working as a bodyguard for those that needed my services most. That’s how I landed here.”
Lydia watched me with fascination in her eyes, and I wished she’d act uninterested. I could see Chavez watching her from the corner of his eye, and he was none too happy.
If she’d just hang tight, play her role, I’d get us out of there. It would blow six weeks of work I’d done to infiltrate Chavez’s organization, but it was a consequence I was willing to pay. I’d underestimated my feelings for the woman, and now it was going to bite me in the ass.
Levi was going to kill me.
“That’s nice. Now, Salvador, how much would a Latina woman with a medical degree pull on the black market? Beautiful brown hair, brown eyes. Curves in all the right places. I’m assuming her education alone would be a temptation for any buyer.”
I jerked my attention to Chavez’s face that was mottled red with anger. He was trying to rile me, and, damn, if it wasn’t starting to work.
“Oh, I’d say this woman would fetch quite a high price indeed.”
“What would she be required to do to serve her master?”
“Whatever he wants her to do. She would be broken of course, so she would comply with whatever her owners would want from her. Usually beaten into submission, breaking her body and her will. She’d be tested by him and possibly others so that she’d perform in the bedroom the way she’d be required.”
Lydia’s whimper was my undoing.
“That’s enough.” I stood abruptly, my hands slamming down on the table with enough force that the plates jumped. Chavez grinned, and I hated that I’d allowed him to get the better of me. Lydia’s eyes were filled with tears, her hands shaking, bottom lip quivering in fear. I had to get out of there before I did something stupid and got us both killed.
“I’m sorry. Please excuse me.”
It was safer for us both if I just left. Without a glance back, I strode out of the room, leaving the only woman I’d ever loved behind with a madman and a sex trafficker.
***
I’d stayed close by the dining room, taking a few moments to ensure that Chavez didn’t use the opportunity to hurt Lydia or decide to sell her to Salvador that very night. When the dialogue went back to mundane things that had nothing to with her, I took advantage of Chavez’s distraction and ran up the stairs to my room.
Kneeling by the bed, I took the box of listening devices that Ryder had given to me for the very situation I found myself in—no longer safe to do my job undercover. I’d plant the bugs, get Lydia and myself out of there safely, and we could listen from afar. They were too risky to plant while I was living in the same house, but the risk of them finding them after I was gone was worth it.
I changed out of the dress clothes into my normal black T-shirt and jeans. I took the bugs out of the box and put them in my pocket before taking off down the steps.
When I reached Chavez’s office, I tried the knob and found it locked. Figured. Still, I’d hoped for a break. I took out the small lock-picking tool I kept on my key ring and started on the lock, keeping an ear out for Juan Carlos or Santiago who might be pacing about. Finally, after a minute or two of fumbling with the lock, it clicked, and I slipped inside.
The smell of cigar smoke was still heavy in the air, and I glanced around the lavish furnishings for a place to hide the devices. I took a ballpoint pen out of the jar on his desk and unscrewed it, slipping the tiny device inside. Then I hid another one under the humidor on the bookshelf behind his desk. Between the two of them, we should be able to pick up most conversations that took place.
After planting the devices, I quietly crept out of the office, looking both ways before stepping out into the hallway. The coast was clear, so I walked briskly to the library.
Depending on Chavez’s mood, he’d either meet with his staff and acquaintances in his office or in the library, which had plush leather couches, a chaise lounge near the bookshelves, and a small round table with a few chairs.
I dropped a bug into a vase sitting on the sofa table behind one of the leather couches, and then added a few more to some books stashed in the room. The final one I placed in the open mouth of a large horse statue just inside the door.
I’d just finished up when someone entered the room. My gaze jerked up to meet the cold and calculating grin of Santiago Domingo, butterfly-knife handler extraordinaire. Unease crept up my spine when I took in his smug smile and predatory gaze. He was up to something.
“There you are. I’ve looked everywhere for you.” His grin widened as he sauntered over to me, hands in his pockets, the perfect picture of ease. Yeah, not buying it.
“I changed clothes and then came down here. Been here since dinner.”
“Yes, I heard that was quite the affair. We’re patrolling outside tonight. Let’s go.”
“I never patrol outside.”
“Yeah, well, there’s a first time for everything, and I get to be your babysitter.”
Santiago turned and walked out the door without waiting to see if I’d follow. He knew I would. What other choice did I have?
We walked the grounds for half an hour as I consistently checked my watch for the time. It was well past the two-hour timeframe I’d given Blake, and I needed to get to my secure phone and make the call to check in and see what the plans were for our escape. Tonight.
Fortunately, Ryder and the team were smart and wouldn’t react hastily. Hopefully, he’d give me a little time to break away.
Santiago didn’t say a word the whole time we paced. He flipped his butterfly knife open and shut repeatedly until I wanted to grab it and thrust it into his leg to make him stop. It would be far less than he deserved. The man had been rumored to have killed hundreds in slow, painful ways, taking a slice at a time as he toyed with his prey. Sick bastard.
An ear-piercing scream broke the silence of the night, and I stopped in my tracks. That was a feminine scream. My gut told me it was Lydia’s scream.
I started to run, but Santiago grabbed my arm, pulling me back, just as another scream split the air. I struggled to free myself, wrenching hard on the arm he had in his grasp.
“Just a minute, amigo. You go flying in there, you’ll not only get yourself killed but her as well.”
I stopped pulling on my arm, then yanked it free of his grasp.
“I need to go.”
“No. You need to stay. Seems like you’ve taken quite an interest in something that isn’t yours. If I were you, I’d lie low for a while.”
Every protective instinct I had in my body rebelled at the thought of standing out here and doing nothing, but running in there ran the risk of increasing her punishment or signing her death warrant. That was a chance I couldn’t take.
So, for ten long minutes, her screams and cries filled the air, Santiago never allowing us to move around the perimeter. I knew then that it was intentional. I was meant to hear those screams.
Finally, it stopped—relief and a new kind of fear pulsed through my body. Was she alive? Had they hurt her seriously? Did she need medical attention?
I forced myself to stay ten more minutes before begging off and heading to my room to retrieve my phone. As soon as Blake clicked on, I didn’t even let him get his normal greeting out.
“I’m okay. They’ve taken Lydia. They beat her. I’m not sure what kind of condition she’s in. Stand by.”
“Keep us posted, Cruz. If we need to launch a large-scale attack and get you guys out of there, we will.”
“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that. Chavez is up to something big. We can’t afford for him to go underground. If she and I disappear at this point, he’ll chalk it up to something other than the truth. That’s all that matters.”
“Let me know. I’ve got a team at the ready two miles away.”
“Thanks.”
I hid the phone back inside the loose floorboard under the bed and went to Lydia’s room to check on her. I rapped my knuckles lightly on the door as a feminine voice told me to come in. The voice wasn’t Lydia’s.
Opening the door, I found Pilar sitting on the side of the bed applying warm compresses to Lydia’s back. He’d flogged her. The bastard! I would kill him slowly for this.
I rushed over and bent down to see her face. Tears stained her cheeks, her eyes were puffy and red, but she was passed-out cold.
“Is she okay?”
Pilar sniffed as she nodded her head, and I realized she was crying. “She will be.”
“He flogged her?”
“Juan Carlos’s masterpiece. She’s not the first. She won’t be the last.”
I sat on the other side of the bed and lifted the warm cloths Pilar had laid there. Angry welts, dark-purple bruises, and a few places where the skin had been split open traced patterns across her back.
“How many times?”
“The usual. Fifty lashes.”
I’d listened to her scream and cry for ten long minutes. Every twelve seconds he’d hit her. That kind of pain disoriented a person. It was stark and mind-altering. You didn’t have time to wrap your head around the last blow before the next one fell across your back.
I thought back to the cat-o’-nine-tails that evil, hooded bastard had used on me during my captivity. Pieces of bone and tin and metal had been tied to the ends as the man who’d interrogated me had lashed it across my back, over and over and over again until I’d passed out from the pain, only waking days later.
My back was a roadmap of torture; angry welts and raised, scarred flesh crisscrossed in all directions. Washington hadn’t been able to do much for restoring the flesh there, or my arms and chest, so I’d had every inch tattooed with reminders that there were beautiful things in the world. To the eye, I looked like a tatted-up badass, but when you ran your hands over the desecrated flesh, the story was too horrific for words.
“You should go.” Pilar’s words woke me from my thoughts, and I shook my head.
“No. I can’t leave her.”
“If he finds you here, he’ll kill you both. Go. Leave her be.”
“Fine. You’ll stay with her?”
“Of course. I won’t leave her side tonight.”
I nodded my thanks and strode across the room, opening the door.
“I’ll check in tomorrow morning.” Without waiting for a reply or Pilar’s disapproval, I locked myself in my room. The emotions pent up inside me were begging to be released, so I opted for a shower. Once the hot water was streaming from the showerhead, I stepped inside and lost it.
Sobs racked my body as I thought about what Lydia had endured at the hands of that monster. I would kill Juan Carlos Alvaro before this was over. I vowed that he and Chavez would pay for the pain they’d inflicted on the most brave and compassionate woman I’d ever met.
As the tears mixed with the water flowing over my face, I made a vow to the woman I’d never stopped loving.
“Just hold on, Lydia. Vengeance is mine.”