Lydia
Cruz’s room was stark compared to my accommodations. White walls. No pictures or art anywhere to be found. No personal touches at all—which was to be expected for a temporary space. A dresser sat against the far wall, while a full-sized bed was situated next to a single window. A simple blue quilt was folded neatly across the foot of the bed, and gray sheets were tucked in tight, military-style.
I closed the door and locked it behind me, kneeling at the side of the bed and feeling around the wood floors for a loose board. Careful of my injuries, I gingerly leaned down my arm, reaching, feeling for what I hoped I’d find.
When we were young, Lorenzo had kept his money and anything of importance hidden in the floor under his bed. He’d lived with his grandmother until she’d died his senior year of high school. Since he’d been eighteen at the time, he’d been able to stay there alone. Because of that, he’d always had fear someone would come in and steal from him.
When I pressed on a board and it popped up slightly, I said a prayer of thanks that some things never changed. I reached in and took out a cell phone. I searched around, hoping for a gun or something, but came up empty.
I knew my way around guns. Working in the inner city meant I had to know how to protect myself, and unfortunately that meant knowing how to use a gun. I’d also taken years of Krav Maga, learning how to protect myself without a weapon, so it appeared that would have to do for now.
Phone in hand, I sat on the bed and looked at the last call he’d made. It was the only number in the phone. I pressed call and waited for it to connect.
“Mario’s Pizza, can I help you?”
“Um, yes, um. I’m not sure actually.”
“Ma’am, who am I speaking with?”
“This is Lydia Ayala. I’m calling on Cruz Ortiz’s phone. I was hoping I’d reach someone who could help us.”
“Lydia Ayala? I’m not sure I recognize that name. Could you provide more information?”
“Sure. I’m a nurse practitioner. Taken from my clinic more than six weeks ago by Emilio Chavez. Cruz is my bodyguard. Also known as Lorenzo Gallos.”
I added the last bit on a prayer, hoping it was the right decision to make. If I was talking to his enemies, I’d just given them a clue to his true identity. But my gut told me I was talking to friend, not foe.
“Ms. Ayala, my name is Ryder Blake. Cruz contacted me yesterday about needing to get you out. I’m assuming if you’re calling me something is wrong.”
“Yes. They took him. I don’t know where, but I’d bet they’ll interrogate him before killing him. Which means he’s in the basement.”
“I have a small team two minutes down the road, but if we’re infiltrating the compound, we’ll need the rest of the guys to assist. Their plane just landed, and they’re half an hour away.”
“Are you FBI or something?”
“Or something, but I promise you, we’re the good guys. Cruz is a good guy.”
“Okay. Get here when you can. I’ll get him out and meet you at the back of the compound.”
“Wait, Lydia. You can’t do that.”
“I’m not going to let him die. Again.”
Ryder paused, obviously deliberating what he should do. There really was no other option, though.
“Fine. Back of the property. I’ll have the small team meet you there. Be careful and keep this phone on you. I’m the only one with this number, so if it rings, it’s me.”
“Got it.”
“Do you have something to protect yourself with?”
“Just my hands and my mind.”
Ryder cursed under his breath.
“Be careful.
“I will.”
“If things go south, call me.”
“Got it.”
I ended the call and peered out of the room into the hallway. Looking both ways and finding no one there, I quietly made my way down the steps and to the basement door.
Carefully, glancing behind me, I opened the door and snuck down the stairs where several rooms lined the narrow hallway. The space had once been open like any normal basement, but it appeared they’d converted it into storage rooms. Prison cells was more like it.
The room at the end of the hall was my destination. I remembered it from when Chavez brought me down here the day before. When I reached it, I gently turned the handle and peered inside.
Cruz hung from rope tied above his head connected to a chain that dangled his feet just above the ground. Blood smeared the floor below him, and he was barely recognizable, his face so disfigured and swollen. The skin on his back was flayed open in ribbons, blood oozing from the wounds. Purple and black bruises littered his chest and abdomen. He was unconscious, but even from where I stood, I could see his ribs trying to suck in air. I was sure a couple were probably broken, and the pain had to be agonizing trying to breathe while hanging from his arms that way.
I glanced around the room, finding it empty, and rushed over to him. A tray stood nearby with scissors, a scalpel, and other instruments I didn’t want to think about. I didn’t want to imagine what they’d planned to do with them. I’d reached him before that phase, thank God.
I took the scalpel from the tray and used it to cut the ropes around his arms, but as soon as I touched him, his head jerked up, and he kicked out, almost landing a solid blow to my midsection. I moved just in time, his foot skimming my hip.
“Lydia?” His voice was hoarse, his lips swollen from the beating, so it was hard to distinguish his words.
“Yes. I’m getting us out of here.”
“No. Chavez will come back. If he catches you, he’ll kill you.”
“I’m not leaving here without you.”
I sliced through the ropes around his hands and caught him as he crumpled. Cruz was not a little guy, and keeping him upright seemed to be harder than I’d thought.
“Can you walk?”
“Yeah. Just give me a second.”
“I don’t know how many of those we have.”
He opened and closed his hands, forcing the blood into his fingers. “Okay. Let’s go.”
“What are you doing, mi amor?”
I whirled around, finding Chavez standing in the doorway blocking our only exit out. He took two steps toward me.
“He’s not worth it, Emilio. Let him go.”
“I’m afraid he must pay for his betrayal, and it seems you must as well.”
I let go of Cruz, hoping he could stand on his own two feet, and sauntered over to Chavez, putting more swing in my hips than normal. His eyes tracked my body, and when he met mine, I smiled sweetly.
“Please, Emilio. I just want to put all of this behind us. It’s you I want.”
I reached him, looping my arms around his neck. Dangerous to put myself within the viper’s grips, but I was banking on sex and seduction.
Not risking a glance behind me, I hoped Cruz would go along with the ploy. Since he’d yet to say anything, it appeared that he was following my lead.
“You’ve been a real disappointment, cara.” He tugged my hair back so I could look into his eyes, evil eyes that held little emotion except lust and the desire to conquer.
“I’m so sorry, my love.” I kissed his neck, trailing my lips up to his. “Let me make it up to you.” My finger caressed his cheek lightly, as I schooled my expression into one of seduction and yearning. “I’m ready. Take me to bed.”
Men were so predictable. Chavez wrapped his arms around me tightly, his mouth landing on mine with bruising force. He ground his hips against me, eager to take this to the next level.
Nausea swirled in my belly, and I ignored Cruz’s groan of protest behind me. I swiped my tongue against Chavez’s lips, and pressed closer, telling him with my body what I wanted. He lifted his hands to my hair, thrusting his fingers in deeply then trailing them down to my waist. I trailed my fingers down his neck, finding the perfect spot. With as much pressure as I could muster, I struck him hard with the side of my hand.
Emilio jerked backwards, just as his knees buckled, and he fell to the floor.
I turned back to find Cruz staring at me, his eyes wide, anger still heavy in his gaze.
“Where the hell did you learn that?”
“Krav Maga. I’ve been practicing for ten years. It’s a simple pressure-point technique.”
“Geez, woman. Remind me never to make you angry.” I grinned and held out my hand.
“Let’s go. He won’t be down for long.”
We crept up the stairs, careful to be quick but quiet. Cruz stumbled over his feet several times, and I used all the strength I could muster to help keep him upright. When we reached the basement door, I peered outside and found the hallway blessedly empty.
I motioned for Cruz to follow me, and we exited the basement, heading for the back door. I knew there were guards patrolling, but I hoped we’d be able to sneak by undetected.
“Where are we going?” Cruz whispered.
“Back of the property. Ryder is sending a team to pick us up.”
“Ryder? How did you get hold of him?”
I smiled. “Found your secret phone under your bed. Old habits die hard.”
Cruz’s mouth lifted in a semi-smile, but with his lips so cracked and swollen, it looked more like a grimace. I watched as two men strolled past the French doors to the back of the property, and pulled Cruz down beside me to wait them out. We had to get out of there before Chavez woke up, which would be any moment.
When they were gone, I took Cruz’s hand again and went through the double doors. “Can you run?”
Cruz just glared at me, then pulled on my hand and took off at an awkward jog. He ran as if he was drunk, swerving and swaying, and I prayed we’d make it to the fence before he passed out. He looked dead on his feet.
A shout sounded behind us, and I knew Chavez had finally woken up and alerted the guards. Fortunately, we’d passed the treeline, but it would be mere moments before they caught up with us.
“Go!” I urged Cruz forward, but his injuries were catching up to him. The fence was twenty feet in front of us, but I didn’t think Cruz was going to make it unassisted, and I knew I couldn’t carry him.
“Wait here.” I leaned him against a tree and ran towards the wall that lined the perimeter. I had no idea how we would scale it to get over, especially in Cruz’s condition. Mine wasn’t much better. I hoped Ryder’s team was prepared to help us over.
“Hey!” I whisper-shouted the word, hoping someone on the other side would hear and help me out.
“Ms. Ayala?” A voice sounded from the other side.
“Yes. Who am I talking to?”
“Johnny Carter, ma’am. Ryder Blake sent us. I’m throwing over a rope. I need you to wrap it around your waist, then, with you using your feet, we’ll help pull you up, okay?”
“Wait. We need to get Cruz over first. He’s hurt badly. He can’t walk. And his ribs might be broken, so getting him up and over that wall might be pretty difficult.” I didn’t mention the bruising on my back. If it came to pain or death, I’d gladly take pain.
Johnny was quiet for a few seconds, and I heard the voices of the guards sounding closer and closer. Finally, he answered.
“Okay. Stand back. We’ve got some charges we’ll set off and blow a hole in the wall. Twenty feet back, okay?”
“Okay!”
I ran back to Cruz, whose head was lolling on his chest. How he remained upright, I had no idea. When I reached him, I tapped his shoulder gently. He jerked his head up, his eyes wild with fear, like a wounded animal ready to lash out at anyone who got too close.
“Easy there, killer.” I put my arm around his waist and held him tight against me.
“What’s the plan?” His words were slightly slurred, and he swayed unsteadily on his feet.
“Johnny is blowing a hole in the wall. Hang tight.”
“That’s going to cause a scene.”
“Yeah, well. Got any better ideas?”
“Nope. Not a one.”
I pulled Cruz around the back of the tree, and a few seconds later a loud explosion went off, bricks and dust pouring down from the sky.
“Let’s go.”
Gunfire exploded around us as Chavez’s men ran towards the back wall. We zigzagged as bullets pinged off the ground, finally reaching three men dressed in black who laid down cover fire as we hit the hole in the wall. I pushed Cruz through first, and followed after him. A large black SUV sat idling just outside the wall, the back door thrown open in invitation.
Cruz stumbled, falling to his knees and bringing me with him.
“Help me!”
Two sets of arms lifted Cruz up and dragged him to the back of the SUV. Another set of hands helped me to my feet, and I raced to the other side of the SUV. When we were safely inside, the vehicle took off, the sound of bullets ricocheting as we tore out of the vicinity.
I knew we still had to make it off the island, but whoever was driving appeared to have once raced cars in the Daytona 500.
Several minutes later, and we were cruising down the streets of Miami, seemingly without a care in the world. The driver made multiple turns, no doubt to throw off any tails we might have picked up.
“Where are we going?”
The driver glanced at me in the rearview mirror, his eyes hard but not unkind, while the man in the front passenger seat answered.
“A safe house, down the coast of Miami. Cruz’s colleagues will meet us there.”
“He needs medical attention.”
The man nodded to the guy driving. “Ramon called it in. Someone will be there to take care of him.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, ma’am. I’m Johnny, by the way. This is Ramon Silva, and that beast beside you is Ryker Scott.” Johnny had a thick southern accent that spoke of cowboys and pickup trucks. Ramon was tall and thick, with wavy black hair, while Ryker Scott reminded me of a highlander straight from Gabaldon’s novels. All he was missing was a kilt.
The driver merely grunted hello, while Ryker shook my hand. “Nice to meet you, ma’am. You’re one brave lady.”
I snickered a little. Couldn’t help myself. I sure as hell didn’t feel brave. Desperate was a better description.
“Nice to meet you all. And thank you, again. We would never have made it out of there.”
I glanced over at Cruz who was hugging the door, his head bouncing off the window. That couldn’t feel good. I tugged him closer, and he practically fell into my lap.
While he slept, I took in the horrible state of his face. His nose was broken, and I wouldn’t be surprised if his cheekbone was as well. His eyes were swollen and black and blue, and his lips were twice their normal size. They’d done a number on him.
Fifteen minutes later, we pulled into a garage of a teal-colored town home with crisp-white shutters that looked out over the ocean. The car rolled to a stop, and two men and a woman rushed to the car.
“How is he?” one of the men asked. He was a big guy, long, blond hair and a scruffy beard. He also sported a black eye and a busted lip. Who were these people?
The girl was tall, with long, cinnamon-colored hair and pale-green eyes. She smiled at me, while the two men pulled Cruz out of the car.
“He was beaten up pretty badly. Looks like broken nose, possible cheek, and definitely some ribs. In and out of consciousness.”
I slid out of the car with the help of the woman, and followed behind them as they took Cruz up the steps to a wide, open-plan floor space. Huge windows looked out over the expansive ocean. A balcony ran along the top of the town home, overlooking the main floor with its open concept. An immaculate kitchen, all white countertops and stainless-steel appliances, spilled into a modern living room with stark white furnishings with teal accents. The perfect beach getaway, if you were in the top one percent of earners in America, that is.
The guys took Cruz down the hall to a bedroom. The top sheets and blankets had been pulled off, and a young man with a black bag stood hovering by the bed. When we entered the room, his gaze shot to ours, and he rushed to help them get Cruz situated on the bed.
“He’s going to be okay, right?” The question was out before I could call it back. For one, I was a medical professional, and I knew as well as anyone that this doctor couldn’t tell me a thing until he’d examined him.
Secondly, I didn’t know these people, and they didn’t know me. They had no idea about Lorenzo’s and my past together. They couldn’t know how painful it was for me to see Cruz suffering this way and to know that Lorenzo had been in much worse shape when he’d finally been found.
Still, it gave me hope that he’d pull through this as well. Hopefully this time without faking his death.
“I’m going to check him out now. Why don’t you wait outside?” The young doctor immediately turned his attention to Cruz without giving me another glance.
“I’m a nurse practitioner. Maybe I can help.”
“No offense, ma’am, but you look barely able to stand on your own. I’ll see to you shortly, but he needs my immediate attention.”
I didn’t want to be a burden to the doctor, so I backed out of the room, and the woman gently took my arm in hers, steering me towards the kitchen.
“You must be Lydia.”
“Yes.”
“He’s very lucky you were there to help him. I’m Piper.”
“Nice to meet you.”
I turned to sit on the barstool and hissed at the pain slicing through my back. The adrenaline was wearing off, and the wounds on my back were screaming at me after all the excitement of the day.
“Are you hurt?”
“Um, just some wounds on my back. They’re healing.”
“Let me see.”
“It’s okay. I’m fine.”
“Please.”
I nodded then, and Piper pulled my shirt up.
“Good heavens. Who did this to you?”
I met her gaze, and she nodded, understanding lighting her eyes. “Chavez.”
“Yes.”
“How in the world did you manage to get Cruz out of there in your condition?”
I shrugged, just as Piper called out to a man named Cade. The big guy with blond hair stepped into the kitchen. “Look at this.”
Embarrassed, I tugged on my shirt. Piper put her hand on my shoulder. “Cruz has all the medical training for the team, but Cade is an MMA fighter, so he has some background in treating wounds. Let him look.”
Still too humiliated to say anything, I jerked my head in a nod, while Cade took a look at my back.
“Took a lot of courage and strength to get out of there in this shape. Piper, ask the doctor if he has antibiotic ointment and grab me several ice packs.” Piper left the room, and Cade let my shirt fall down gently against my skin.
“Thank you for saving our friend. After seeing his condition, I’m afraid we would have been too late.”
“He would have done the same for me.”
“Ryder said you called him Lorenzo. How did you know him?”
“We were close friends when we were teenagers. Even though he looked a little different and was supposed to be dead, I could just tell it was him.”
“You must have been very close.”
“We were.”
Piper returned with ointment and ice packs, and Cade pointed to the spiral staircase that led to the balcony above. “There’s a bedroom up there she can have. You and I will take the other one, and Levi can sleep on the pull-out.”
Levi must have been the other large man with light-brown hair and a fighter’s body.
“I don’t want to impose.”
“You’re not. We’ve installed a scrambler in case you or Cruz have any tracking devices on you, so you’re safe as long as you stay inside. We’ll lie low here a couple of days and then head back to Atlanta so Cruz can finish healing there.”
Atlanta. That must be where he was living now.
“My family!” The words burst from me before I could stop them. “Chavez will send someone after my dad and sister. I have to get to them.”
Piper laid a hand on my arm. “We’ll get Johnny’s team on it now. They’ll protect them. I promise.”
“Okay.”
I had no choice but to trust these strangers. I didn’t know who they were or what they did or who they worked for, but if Cruz trusted them, then so would I.