It seemed like yesterday that El Patron passed through her small cuidad at the foot of Mount Tlaloc, not too far from Rio Frio de Jaurez. The gang demanded tribute from her father as they turned over their roadside stand.
She could still hear her father pleading for her life as they took his. El Patron with his short, black hair that grayed at the temples, stood idly by his Mercedes tapping on his phone, as his men murdered her papa, ignoring her screams of terror.
That’s when it happened. Her gift got out of hand.
Marisol and her father lived in the rural area because her gift was unpredictable, especially when she was emotional. Nothing electronic was safe from her. She’d never been able to touch a computer or anything beyond simple machinery.
As the men murdered her papa Marisol had erupted. The sizzle that arced from her body fried the gang’s phones and even the guts of the fancy black car that was parked too close. The distinct smell of scorched plastic filled the air. She was struck violently in the head and everything went black.
She awoke later with her head throbbing, bound in the back of one of their SUV’s. Marisol’s mind numbing dread was short lived as she was hit again, when she blew the vehicle’s battery.
Now El Patron kept Marisol like a prized pet. He paraded her out to perform tricks for his friends. El Patron also used her like a bloodhound to neutralize any unwanted surveillance when meeting with rivals or suspected Federales.
Though she was learning a measure of control. It never failed that someone forgot what she was capable of, earning Marisol a beating when their treasured phone met its demise.
The pinky on Marisol’s left hand was still numb from a blow to her arm. She rubbed the sore arm assuming she had a hairline fracture. That would account for the almost constant bone deep ache and numbness.
Marisol combed the fingers of her good hand through her long black hair to remove the tangles and keep it from matting.
For the most part she kept her sanity. Although talking to the occasional rat that visited her looking for food wasn’t really normal. She’d taken to saving an occasional crust of bread from the intermittent meals they tossed her way to feed them just so she had a bit of company.
Marisol laughed as she realized she found the rats less vile than the men. What would her mother have thought, god rest her soul.
If not food, at least she had daily access to water and a bathroom, but even that came at a price. The guard would leer at her as she washed or drank from the dilapidated sink.
Apparently she preferred being beaten to being raped. The first and last time the gang of men held her down and tore off her shorts she’d knocked out the power for the entire compound. El Patron had stormed into the outbuilding and put a stop to the mob at the point of his knife. It wasn’t that El Patron truly cared what happened to her, he just didn’t appreciate his football game getting interrupted.
The click of a key in the lock on her cell door snapped Marisol out of her reverie.
“El Patron wants you.” The man, no more than a boy, said as he tossed her a bundle of clothes.
Marisol looked at the yellow sundress that was at least a few sizes too big. This could only mean El Patron had company he wanted to show her off to.
The guard stood there watching so she pulled the dress over her head, then shimmied her dirty old shirt out from under it. She was so sick of this crap. The young man watching her was one of the little bastards that had taunted her with the fact they’d burned her home with her poor papa’s body inside.
She would behave for now taking comfort in the fact that at least she was getting out of her cell for a bit, even if she had to be around these pendejos.
Marisol didn’t know exactly how she would get out of this place but she kept paying attention to people, conversations and actions, certain that a time would come when it was important.
Marisol was led to the bathroom where she washed up, before following the guard out of the two story building. The concrete block building acted as a home for the guards and prison for anyone on El Patron’s bad side.
The guard’s phone chirped in his pocket. Marisol smiled inwardly when he pulled it out and looked at it only to find no message. She was learning to control more than her emotions and sanity.
It had been a long time that she and her father had lived away from modern society and it’s technology, but now there was so much of it everywhere. Marisol had found it nearly overwhelming.
Over the last few weeks Marisol started to recognize when someone had a phone in their pocket. Something in the air changed. She felt a distinct tingle. It was different from the humming buzz when someone nearby had a laptop. The sensation was strange enough, but what was even odder was how when the phone rang or beeped it sent out a different energy, one that Marisol had learned to mimic and bounce back.
Marisol walked with a blank face as she made the phone chirp again.
The young guard looked at his cell again as they walked across the lot to the warehouse. Yet again he found nothing. With a huff he shoved it back into his pocket.
Marisol followed him through the warehouse doors maintaining a straight face as if nothing was amiss. Marisol paused as she looked at the cage. She hated the fights they held here. The men gathered and wagered on dogs, men, roosters, anything they could pit against each other. It disgusted her enough that she had to turn away from the pathetic spectacle to concentrate on the men coming in the door.
She knew her task, interfere with any unsanctioned technology. Apparently El Patron liked the twisted sport and money it brought in, but he liked his privacy more. The man didn’t want to chance anyone spying on him. He had every right to be paranoid he wasn’t a good man.
Marisol looked around as men arrived and started drinking. The first contest was a cock fight, money changed hands and the men carried on boisterously. She wondered where El Patron himself was as the feathers flew in the cage. It wasn’t like him to miss these events, otherwise they wouldn’t occur, he’d not allow it. Marisol would prefer the man stayed away, of all these men El Patron scared her the most. Unfortunately it was still early and she’d probably not get her wish.
There was a commotion and feral snarling at the back of the warehouse that caught Marisol’s attention. She shivered then turned to see what poor wild creature was being led to its demise for the entertainment of these pendejos.
El Patron made his entrance and Marisol’s mouth opened in shock.
Stretched between two chains El Patron and his lieutenant led a large, solid, black jaguar. It moved lithely, its tail low and stiff, as the beast snarled menacingly at anyone who came too close.
Marisol watched as the creature was forced into the cage. The din of the crowd rose as the jaguar was shut in.
She couldn’t help but feel sorry for the beautiful creature. It didn’t deserve to be here. It should be roaming the wild, not cooped up, leered at and abused. A creature like that wouldn’t thrive in captivity for long. Marisol could sympathize. She hadn’t allowed herself to cry in front of these awful men, not since the first day. But as Marisol looked through the chain link cage at the proud trapped beast she felt her eyes well up.
The jaguar paced around the enclosure shoving futilely at the cage walls, except there was no exit to be found. He then plopped onto the ground, stretched out on his side and just watched the crowd. The beautiful beast looked calm, but his tail flicked to and fro betraying his annoyance. His eyes seemed to assess his surroundings. As the golden brown gaze locked on to hers, Marisol couldn’t help but stare back. It was odd how the jaguar studied her with seemingly intelligent eyes.
Trip
Trip didn’t appreciate being put on display but at the moment here he was, so he decided to lay down and study his new prison.
He smelled the fresh chicken blood mingled with older blood and knew fights were held here.
The man who led him in was the boss, the same as he’d seen on the veranda of the large house. He spoke to several
of his guards laughing and looking back at Trip. Trip repressed a snarl. He would tear the man’s throat out given the first opportunity.
Trip forced himself to relax as he took in all the smells. His nostrils flared as he huffed in disgust. More than a few of the men needed a good bath. Something tantalizing wafted his way and his head swung around to ascertain where it came from. He smelled not only were there animals and men in the room but there was the musky scent of a female.
Trip looked past the crowd of men to see a black haired petite woman staring at him from the door. She wore a bright yellow dress that swallowed her up and contrasted with her creamy tan skin. Despite the over-sized gown Trip could tell she had high firm breast and a pert round ass. However it wasn’t her sweet little body that garnered his attention. It was her large brown eyes that held him frozen. The deep chocolate pools were sad as they gazed upon him. Trip swore he could see a hint of moisture welling up in them before she blinked it away.
A man jerked the little woman’s arm returning her to her task. He saw her wince in pain before turning away. Her look of discomfort made a growl rumble in his chest.
Trip wasn’t sure what the woman was there for. Maybe she was supposed to greet or identify someone. Either way from the way she grimaced she didn’t appear to be happy about it and was in pain.
Trip heard the cage open and watched as a snarling mutt was shoved in with him.
“Do they seriously expect me to fight a dog?” His brow rose in annoyance.
Trip just lay there casually as the bristling dog circled the cage opposite of him. He hoped if he wasn’t aggressive the dog would calm down. Unfortunately it ventured forward so Trip gave a warning growl. The mongrel backed up a bit taking a lower menacing stance.
“Don’t be stupid mutt.”
Too late, it growled and pounced at him. Trip snarled as he swatted the dog out of mid air like an annoying fly. The dog yelped but was fine as it hit the hard packed earth, Trip hadn’t extended his claws. The cur was hesitant as it got back to its feet and paced at a safe distance.
Marisol
Marisol smiled, the crowd was disappointed the jaguar refused to fight. She then frowned as the guards put three more dogs into the cage. The massive feline was forced to defend himself against the mutts who worked as a pack and ganged up on him.
She shuttered at the yelp that was silenced as the black beast exerted lethal force. Marisol was pretty sure the true animals in the building weren’t the ones in the cage as she shielded her eyes from the shameful sport.
The end of the evening couldn’t come soon enough for her. Marisol breathed a sigh of relief as the proud beast was finally pulled from the cage. It was injured but nothing that wouldn’t heal. She had seen what the men did to animals too injured to take part in their sport.
Marisol looked up to see El Patron eyeing her. She didn’t like the way he looked at her whenever he was around. Thankfully the boss was more enamored with his new pet so he followed the guards as they tugged the poor beast from the warehouse.
3 Unexpected Alliance
Trip
Trip blinked as he found himself pacing the cell in agitation. It was getting harder to concentrate which wasn’t good. The longer he stayed like this the more his mind gave way to his baser instincts. Trip wondered how long he’d been drifting as his thoughts became more lucid.
It didn’t help his attitude any that they hadn’t fed him nearly enough. The last decent meal he recalled in days had been the rooster that lost the cock fight. Undoubtedly it was a tactic to keep him mean for his next exhibition fight.
Trip’s claw hooked the collar at his neck for the millionth time as he tried to wrench it free. He succeeded in making his neck raw while the barbed collar held firm.
Trip snarled as he smelled his own blood.
Marisol
Marisol concentrated as she traced a pattern of concentric circles in the dirt, making sure the lines were even. Her push to perfect her design helped to keep her sane.
“Buenas noches senorita.”
Marisol was shocked to see El Patron at her door.
“Is this how you spend your time?”
Marisol knew better than to show attitude towards the man so she nodded.
He unlocked the door and stood aside as she stepped out. Marisol didn’t need to be told to follow him, but her steps faltered and slowed as he approached the big house. She had only been as close as the manicured lawn. But she’d heard stories of what El Patron brought woman here for.
They entered the house and moved to a large tiled room that held a heated pool.
“Bathe” El Patron pointed to the water.
She looked from him to the overgrown tub and started to tremble. The lights in the room started to flicker.
“None of that! You are filthy and I have special guests coming for dinner. If you are presentable you will eat with us.” He started sternly but then softened his voice.
El Patron then sat in a wooden recliner at the side of the pool and picked up a newspaper ignoring her.
Knowing she had little choice but to comply Marisol approached the water and hesitantly dipped her foot in. The hot water was heavenly. Marisol looked down at the dirty dress she’d worn for the last several days, and entered the water letting it swirl around her waist. There was a washcloth and soap at the edge of the massive bath.
Marisol looked back up to see El Patron still reading so she grabbed the stuff and headed deeper into the pool and proceeded to wash. The soap was lavender scented as she scrubbed her hair. This was the first real bath she’d had in a long time, too bad it was under such frightening circumstances to enjoy.
Marisol looked up to see El Patron standing at the edge of the pool staring at her. The look in his eyes was disconcerting. She folded her arms across her chest to hide how the wet fabric clung to her breasts.
“Shave”
He tossed her a razor then sat back down. But instead of picking up his paper again El Patron proceeded to watch as she shaved. No matter how hard Marisol tried she couldn’t shave her legs without exposing more skin to El Patron than what she’d hoped to. Marisol quickly finished but wasn’t sure what to do as she stood in the wet dress.
“Come on I have something else for you to wear.” El Patron said then walked out.
Marisol didn’t want to imagine why the man had clothes for her this time but exited the water anyway and grabbed the towel that was at the foot of his recliner.
El Patron proceeded to walk down a short hall and up a flight of stairs before turning into a large bedroom suite.
Marisol stopped in her tracks as she saw the dress that looked to be nothing more than a silky sheer white nightgown laid out on a large bed. El Patron stepped up to her and ran his finger along the strap of her wet dress.
The bulb in the wall sconce nearby shattered as her fear swelled.
“Easy Signora. Have I not kept the men from harming you?” El Patron said as his finger traveled over her bare shoulder.
The guards hadn’t raped her but that didn’t stop them from slapping her around for any perceived infraction.
“Wouldn’t you like to have new clothes and sleep in a nice bed.” He gestured.
After what she’d been through the offer was tempting but this was the monster who’d killed her papa. She’d rather sleep in the cold cell with the rats. Marisol kept her eyes on the floor.
“You are a shy one. Get dressed. There is a comb in the bathroom.” El Patron pointed to the door at the edge of his bedroom.
She took the dress and quickly made her exit to the opulent bathroom locking the door behind her.
Marisol looked down at how the sheer white dress clung to her breasts and hips as she was led to the dining room. The hem of the dress was too long so it took effort not to trip on the stairs. There were several well dressed men already seated around the long table with cocktails in hand.
“Sorry to keep you waiting.” El Patron announced as he pointed to a chair
and she sat.
Dinner proceeded and Marisol couldn’t help but eat despite her loss of appetite. Who knew when she’d get a meal like this again.
Occasionally El Patron would run his hand along her knee and she would stiffen. Marisol did her best to not freak out watching the chandelier overhead for any indication she was losing control.
The men discussed their business. These were the heads of various groups allied as Los Zetas. They lived off the pain of others. It was despicable. The men varied in age, but all of them looked hard. The man opposite from her looked down right insane. The way his eyes raked over her made Marisol’s skin crawl.
Marisol attempted to concentrate on her steak as they discussed where they did their business, who owed them money and even who needed to be disposed of. It turned her stomach almost as much as the wandering hand that had slowly pulled the hem of her dress up exposing her bare knee.
Eventually they finished dinner and El Patron stood up from the table. He took Marisol’s hand and led her with the group to a large sitting room for cocktails. But rather than sitting he bid her to stand in front of the handful of intimidating men. Marisol stood nervously clenching her fists wondering what was in store for her. She tried not to tremble as the men were served their beverages, settled onto various leather couches and arm chairs then looked expectantly at her. The way their eyes raked over her she felt as if she were surrounded by a pack of wolves.
“Let me introduce you to Marisol.” El Patron got their attention as Marisol shifted uncomfortably her fear mounting to a level she soon wouldn’t be able to contain. “I found her at the base of the mountains. She is rather special. Who is willing to sacrifice his phone for a demonstration?”
Marisol breathed a sigh of relief. This was to be a special show of her abilities rather than the horror she was imagining at the hands of these awful men.
The men looked confused but one tossed the boss his phone. El Patron caught it pulled the chip out and chucked it back at the man, then handed the device to Marisol.
Charge: A Motorcycle Club, Shifter, Romance (Shifting Steel Book 2) Page 2
