Lydia
Two hours earlier
I paced back and forth in the living room as Cade watched some obnoxious show on Netflix involving zombies.
“You’re going to wear a hole in the floor.”
“That was original.”
“I don’t need for it to be original for it to be true.” He shot me a grin and patted the chair next to the sofa he occupied. “Sit. Relax. Watch zombies die violent deaths.”
I wrinkled my nose but sat down on the chair as he’d requested. “How can you watch this nonsense?”
“For that very reason. It’s nonsense. It’s not real. Zombies don’t exist. Mindless entertainment.”
He had a point. I guess when you dealt with death and gore in your past and dealt with it in some respects in your current job, you wouldn’t want to a watch a constant reminder of the realities of war and death. I got it. Zombie deaths were entirely different.
I let my mind wander as the men on TV attacked another zombie, and I thought about Cruz and the team and what they were up against. If my calculations were correct, they’d be at the compound by now and engaging with the enemy.
“Aren’t you nervous? Worried? I mean, Piper is out there, too.”
Cade sighed and clicked the TV off. He sat up and faced me, his elbows resting on his knees.
“Yep. Super-nervous. But she’s a highly trained operative. As are the other guys. They know what they’re doing, and they do it well. If I sat here and worried about every possible thing that could go wrong, I’d drive myself crazy.”
“So, how do you handle it?”
“Trust. I trust in her abilities and the team’s.”
That seemed oversimplified, but I got it. If you’re a part of a team, you don’t question them. You trust that everyone is going to come out safely.
Cade patted my knee and turned back around to face the TV, clicking the show back on with the remote. I tried to lose myself in the drama, tried to keep my mind off Cruz and the danger he was in, but it was no use. I kept thinking about the fact that I didn’t tell him that I loved him too before he’d left.
I’d been terrified when he was confessing his feelings to me, since I knew his reason for doing so was in case he didn’t come back. That wasn’t an option. So I’d pushed him away and told him to come home or else.
But I swore, when I saw him again, I was going to spend the whole night telling him and showing him how I felt.
My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I pulled it out. My father’s name and picture were displayed on the screen.
“Hi! I wasn’t expecting to hear from you again today.”
“That’s nice, dear.”
The slightly accented voice that answered me was not my father’s.
“Are you alone?”
“No.”
“Then I suggest you get alone. Now.”
I motioned to the phone with my hand, and Cade waved me off. When I reached Cruz’s room, I took a deep breath. “I’m alone.”
“Good. Now, listen closely. If you want to see your father alive again, you’ll do as I say.”
“Please, don’t hurt him.”
“All of that depends on you, cara.”
I hated that pet name more now than ever.
“You have ten minutes to get outside. There’s a car waiting for you. Do not tell anyone where you are going. Is that clear?”
“Crystal.”
“Good. See you soon, cara.”
The line went dead, and I paced the floor for a few seconds. How was I going to slip out without Cade noticing?
It hit me. I’d tell him I was going to work out. I changed into leggings and a loose T-shirt and pulled my hair into a high ponytail. I took a couple of deep breaths before I made my way down the hall and into the living room.
“Hey, I’m going to work out. I can’t stand this sitting-and-waiting crap. I need to blow off some steam.”
“Fine by me. They should be back soon.”
I turned, my hand on the doorknob when Cade called my name.
“Yeah?” I tried an easy smile but figured I’d failed when Cade’s face contorted into a confused grimace.
“They’re going to be just fine. I promise.”
Tears sprang to my eyes as I nodded my agreement and left. Maybe they would be okay, but I had a feeling I was not going to be.
There was no time to get a message to Cruz. No time to let anyone know where I was going.
I was literally walking into the lion’s den with nothing to protect myself.
When I reached the curb outside the gym, a black sedan pulled up beside me, and the back door flew open. Juan Carlos Alvaro’s face grinned at me from the back seat.
“Hello again.”
I took a step back just as his hand reached for mine. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
He showed me his phone, which held a picture of my father tied up in a chair in the middle of his living room. He wore his cotton pajamas, and his eye was swollen shut.
“Why did you hurt him?”
“He’ll be fine as long as you cooperate.”
Seeing as I had no other choice, I slid into the seat next to Juan Carlos. His hand landed on my knee, and I brushed it off. He cackled like the evil devil he was and shook his head.
“I’m going to have so much fun breaking you.”
With those ominous words, we pulled away from the curb and down the street.
I sat in silence as we drove, not knowing where we were going, just knowing it would be my last trip anywhere. I thought about Cruz coming back to find me gone. Would he search for me? Would it do any good?
We stopped half an hour later at a small airport.
“Where are we going?” If I got on that plane, chances were I was never coming back.
“Back to Miami and then on a little trip.”
“A trip? To where?”
Juan Carlos smiled, his teeth shining in the darkness of the car.
“Venezuela.”
Fear, cold and shocking, spread over my skin, goosebumps popping out on my flesh.
Venezuela. No one would ever find me there.
Panic whooshed in my ears as I stepped out of the car and onto the tarmac to the small plane that sat there with steps leading to an open door. I knew with everything in me that Chavez was waiting for me on that plane. And I knew he’d make me pay for embarrassing him. For leaving him and rescuing his enemy.
I stopped walking, reaching for the phone in my back pocket and trying to discreetly call Cruz to let him know where I was headed. Venezuela was a big country, and I didn’t know if he’d be able to find a way to narrow down the search, but at least it would give him a starting point.
Juan Carlos walked in front of me, and I unlocked my phone. My hand hovered over Cruz’s contact information, and I looked up to make sure no one was watching.
I typed in a quick message telling Cruz that Chavez had gotten to me and that I was on my way to Venezuela, when someone swiped the phone from my hand.
“My mistake. I should have taken this from you earlier. Just didn’t think you’d risk your dad’s life to send a message.”
“I—um. No, of course not. Please don’t hurt my dad.”
Juan Carlos took my phone and looked at the message I’d typed then laughed. He typed a few things on the screen and then held the phone out for me. “Put your password in.”
“Why?”
“Just put it in!” His voice echoed around the empty tarmac, and I shakily typed in my passcode. He typed a few things more in the phone and then placed it on the ground at my feet.
He grabbed my arm and jerked me forward. “Wait. What did you do?”
“Just leaving a little message for your boyfriend. I’d bet my last dollar there’s a tracking device on that phone. He’ll find it. But not soon enough.”
Juan Carlos pushed me in front of him, and I marched up the steps to the fate that awaited me. I knew it wasn’t going to be good.
I was right.
When I entered the plane, Chavez stood before me in off-white linen pants with a matching jacket, a crisp white shirt underneath. He looked like an ad for Spanish beer or Cuban cigars. His hands were in his pockets, and a warm smile was on his face.
He looked cool, calm, and happy to see me. I didn’t buy it for a second.
“Cara, it’s so good to see you.” He opened his arms to welcome me, and I had no choice but to step into them. Maybe I could play it up, make him think I was happy to see him, too.
He hugged me tightly, cupping the back of my head to his chest.
“It’s good to see you, too, Emilio. I’m so sorry about how things went down.”
“Shh, let’s not talk of such things. What’s in the past is in the past.” Chavez pulled away slightly, smiling down at me.
Out of nowhere his hand shot out and slapped me hard across the face. My ears rang, and purple spots danced before my eyes. I tasted blood where my lip had cut, and gasped in pain.
“That is to teach you never to run from me again. Although, I fear it will take much more to teach you a proper lesson. Nevertheless, I felt it appropriate to start your training immediately.”
With trembling fingers, I lifted my hand to my cheek, pressing against the heated flesh from the blow.
“Please, have a seat, cara.”
Chavez motioned to a seat, and I took it, feeling it best not to anger him any more by arguing. I sat down, and he sat facing me. Juan Carlos and two other thugs passed us and sat at a couch towards the back. The grin on his face told me he was ready to take up the torch of abuse when Emilio passed it his way. The thought made me shiver.
“Cold, darling?” Chavez smiled knowingly, and I shook my head. I was done with the niceties.
I sat back, hoping, wishing, longing for Cruz to reach me before the plane lifted off, but I feared he wouldn’t be back from the deal—
Wait! The deal. If Chavez was here, that meant—
“Ah, I see you’ve put two and two together. We planted the information about the huge deal going down at that particular warehouse. I’d had suspicions about Cruz’s real reason for being in my employ. We found the bugs he’d planted and put two and two together.”
“But I heard you talking to Rubio about the deal. There were huge shipments from Venezuela that came into the Savannah port.”
“There were. But the exchange happened last night in another warehouse across town.”
“It was a trap.” And now Los Caballeros, whoever they were, had a crap ton of guns and drugs.
“It was. And if all goes well, the team will go up in flames tonight. And if it doesn’t, well, I’ll get my revenge on Mr. Ortiz soon enough. I almost hope he makes it out alive.”
I’d thought I was afraid before, but the idea that Cruz was burning inside a warehouse along with his brothers, his friends, his teammates was more than I could handle. And if they didn’t die in that fire, what would Chavez do to Cruz if he followed me to Venezuela?
I couldn’t think about it. I just wanted him to be alive. One step at a time.
The plane raced down the runway as the nose started to lift off the ground. I watched as the ground below grew farther and farther away.
We were in the air for maybe twenty minutes before Chavez’s phone buzzed, and he answered it.
“What do you mean, they all got away?” His hard gaze narrowed on me, and the anger brimming there scared the life out of me.
“How many? Dammit!” His fist slammed down hard on the armrest, and his shout made me jump out of my skin. “No. I’ll take care of it.”
He ended the call and turned his deadly eyes on me. “It seems your friends have escaped unharmed while twelve of my men were killed by a drone in the sky. Only one escaped.” He leaned forward, his wrists resting on his knees. “Who do they work for?”
“I have no idea.”
He chuckled then grabbed my chin in his hand, his reflexes lightning-quick. Chavez squeezed hard, wrenching a whimper out of me. I tried to be strong, but the pain was intolerable. “I don’t believe you. Who do they work for?”
“I don’t know! They own the place themselves. I don’t think they work for anyone.”
“No one has those kinds of resources and toys without help from the government. No one.”
“Please, Emilio. You’re hurting me.” He looked puzzled at my words, and then glanced down at his hand still squeezing my chin. Smiling, he let me go, and I couldn’t help myself; my hand shot up to rub the tender flesh. That was going to leave one hell of a bruise.
“They’d have to have some sort of benefactor in order to launch the kinds of missions they’re known for. Drones. Explosives. Firepower. The MMA gym. Too much money there to be owned by two ex-military grunts.”
I kept my mouth shut. The less I said, the better. I wasn’t sure how I’d fare under torture, and I had no doubt that was in my future. I tried not to think about it. I tried not to remember Juan Carlos and his whip falling across my back over and over and over again. I tried not to imagine the pain those knives and utensils I’d seen on that tray could inflict.
Death would be a better outcome.
Chavez unbuckled his seatbelt and strode back to where Juan Carlos and the two goons were seated. They spoke in hushed voices, and I pulled my feet up under me. I closed my eyes, begging sleep to take me under, to give me peace from my thoughts about my impending doom.
Fitfully, I fell asleep and didn’t wake until the wheels touched down in Miami.
I’d hoped we would stay the night in his compound, give me some time to talk to Pilar and see if she could get a message to Cruz. Instead, I was shuffled to a larger private plane and buckled into a plush leather seat. Chavez didn’t make any attempts at conversation or niceties. He sat with his men as they plotted my future and, no doubt, the Shadow Force team’s future as well.
I had no idea how long the flight to Venezuela was, but I guessed it was several hours. I drifted in and out of sleep before the plane jerked me awake as it landed.
I was swept off the plane and into a black car that sat waiting. Chavez crawled in after me, and the door shut just as the car sped off down the road.
“Where are we going?”
“You’ll see soon enough.”
Chavez occupied himself with his phone, and we traveled over rough terrain for what had to be about an hour.
The car turned onto a dirt road, dust flying all around, and I peered through the fine particles, only seeing trees for miles and miles. Then the trees parted, and a grand house sat perched in the center, as if a UFO had landed in the middle of a forest and cropped out a perfect circle.
The house was a beautiful, Spanish style with adobe-like walls and clay roof tiles. Lush gardens buffered each side, and a sculpture of a nude woman holding a pitcher of water sat in the middle of a fountain area in the drive. Iron gates protected a courtyard with a cobblestoned patio and lovely wrought-iron furniture.
It was hard to believe that a place so beautiful and peaceful belonged to a monster. I couldn’t wrap my head around it.
We reached the front door, and it opened immediately. Pilar stood on the other side, her face bruised and her arm in a cast.
“Pilar!” I launched myself into her arms, hugging her tightly against me. She was stiff and formal and didn’t return the hug. Taking a step back, she simply nodded then turned her attention to Chavez.
“Mr. Chavez, welcome home. I trust your flight was pleasant.” Emilio grinned at the turn of events then glanced at me.
“Yes, it was. Please, show Ms. Ayala to her room.”
“Yes, sir.”
Pilar turned without a word and led the way to a door just off the front foyer. I barely had time to register the ornate, colorful mosaic tile on the floor, the priceless paintings that hung on the walls, and the rich colors that dotted every corner of the home.
She opened the door that led down a flight of steps, and my stomach dropped. I wasn’t being shown to a room in the house. I was being shown to a prison cell.
The basement was musty and moist, the air cloying with the smell of dirt and mold. The floor was a cold concrete, and the walls were cement cinder blocks. No color. No warmth.
We reached a door, and Pilar opened it, then stepped back to let me in. A cot sat in one corner and a pot in the other. When I whirled around to ask her what was going on, her eyes filled with tears, and she pressed a finger to her lips.
“I’m so sorry, carita. I tried to protest, but I was forced to be here.” She glanced down at her arm. “My girls.”
I got it. She’d been beaten and her daughter’s lives threatened if she didn’t do as she was told. I nodded and reached for her. She glanced over her shoulder and then hugged me quickly.
“Be safe. Please.”
Releasing me, she pulled the door shut behind her, and I heard the lock click into place. The room was cast into complete darkness.
I was a prisoner. In a dark cell. No light. No interaction.
And I knew what was in store for me. I’d seen the chains hanging from the middle of the basement. I saw the drain perfectly placed underneath. I’d seen the instruments of torture.
This cell would be the last peace I’d know on this earth.
“Please find me, Cruz. Please.”
The words fell in silence. There was no one to hear my pleas. No one to come to my aid.
I was all alone. And I was going to die.