by Liz Johnson
His eyes were rimmed in red and more bloodshot than she remembered them being the day before.
She glanced at Sergio and Manuel, who stood about ten feet away, their backs to their charges. Other than the two guards and the cook, she and Will were alone in the room, most of the men having eaten and left for the fields long before.
You okay? She mouthed the words.
He surveyed the nearly empty room, then leaned forward. “We have a little problem.”
Her stomach lurched, the mush in her mouth turning into a painful lump. She tried to swallow it, but her throat had closed.
Father in heaven, what if we don’t make it home?
For the first time since Will’s arrival, she acknowledged her fear and that very real possibility. She’d counted on making it home in time for Christmas. She’d planned on giving her dad the deep-sea fishing pole she’d purchased three months before. Since Will’s arrival, she’d even allowed herself to wonder if she and Will could restore a hint of the friendship they’d once shared in San Diego.
But what if they didn’t make it home at all?
What if this was the end of the line for them both?
She choked down her breakfast, cringing as it traveled down her throat and settled heavily in the pit of her stomach. Setting her fork next to her plate, she bent closer and kept her voice low. “What is it?”
A shake of his head sent the little lock of hair over his forehead dancing. “Not here.”
Jess couldn’t eat another bite, her stomach in complete mutiny, so she bit her lips together, pressed her hands into her lap and bowed her head.
The riot in her mind wouldn’t let her form a coherent prayer. She just repeated the same mantra over and over. You’re alone. You’re alone. You’re all alone.
First her mom. Then Will.
Had God given up on her also?
Manuel grabbed her arm and pushed her toward the exit. She went without a struggle or even a thought. In the yard she stumbled around a puddle, only to step all the way into another. Her foot disappeared up to her ankle in the muck, and she screeched. Will reached for her elbow, his sure grip keeping her from falling into the crater.
Inside the lab her steadiness didn’t improve. Every time she glanced at Will, her mind flew to all the possible things that could have gone wrong in the two or three hours that she’d lain awake on her cot. If he’d been caught by a guard before making it back into his room, then he wouldn’t be here with her. Would he?
Manuel scowled at her, his posture more tense than it had been the day before. His fingers pressed against his gun so hard they turned white, and his lip curled in an agitated sneer. His eyes slicing through her, he barked a word that obviously meant she should hurry.
There was an extra edge to his bark this morning. Usually he displayed his displeasure with unhappy grunts and squinted eyes, but there was a hatred there that she’d never seen before. Was it tied to Will’s trouble? Or was it caused by something as innocuous as the terrible breakfast?
Her pulse thudded painfully at her neck and wrists, but she didn’t look away from her guard as she massaged her gloved hands over the throbbing points. Then she dropped several canisters into sudsy water. As it splashed near the rim of the sink, Will sidled up next to her and took the scrub brush from her hand.
“Let me do that.” His tone implied that he was asking for her permission, but the intention in his movements couldn’t be denied. “How many do you need?”
“Six.”
Focused on watching Manuel for any reason behind his bad mood, she didn’t check to see if Will had complied or where he set the cleaned equipment. When she finally swung in his direction, her elbow bumped into a glass beaker filled with baking powder that she’d left sitting on the counter. As it flew through the air, time seemed to stand still. Jess windmilled her arms, reaching for it, but it shattered against the cement floor with a scream like a banshee.
Or maybe the scream had come from her.
Glass flew in every direction, bouncing off the floor, the cabinets and her apron, even as she scrambled back into Will, who hugged her waist and pulled her against his chest.
“Did you hurt yourself?” His breath played with the hair at the back of her neck that had pulled free of her ponytail.
She shook her head, trying desperately to tune out the bellowing from Manuel and Sergio. Lurching from the room, the two guards escaped, slamming the door behind them.
Will squeezed Jess briefly. “What was in there?”
“It’s harmless. Mostly just baking powder.”
He sighed, letting his arm drop from the embrace, and she leaned against the counter for a moment to catch her breath. After pulling over a metal trash can, he stooped to pick up the biggest pieces of glass.
Pulling paper towels off a nearby rack, she joined him, wiping up the white mess, careful not to tear her only pair of gloves on tiny shards.
“So, are you going to tell me what you meant this morning? What kind of a problem do we have?”
He tossed in two more hunks of glass before answering. “Someone saw that I wasn’t in my bed last night.”
Her hands stopped moving, and she blinked at him.
“Just after I got back into my room, two men came in. They were arguing over a bet they’d made, about if I was actually in there or not. One of them—our friend from the other night, Raul—swore I hadn’t been there earlier.” Will kept his voice low, his gaze settling somewhere beyond Jess’s shoulder. “The second guy didn’t believe that I’d really been gone, but Raul was so adamant that he seemed willing to consider the idea in the end.”
Her stomach felt as if she’d been surfing in a hurricane.
“But that’s not the problem.”
That didn’t help. How could it get worse?
“Instead of turning us in, they’re going to be watching me—us—to see what we’re up to. I got the feeling that they think they can gain some information to leverage a promotion within the cartel.”
A band around Jess’s chest tightened until her breathing was ragged at best. “So some guys are going to be watching us more closely than usual. But you didn’t see who they were? You can’t identify them?”
“They were just in shadows.” Will brushed at a stain on his pant leg as if removing it was key to getting them out of the compound. “I only saw their outlines for a second before they went back into the hallway, and I only got Raul’s name. And unless he’s the only overweight guard they have here, I doubt I could pick him out of a crowd.”
Even when he’d chased them onto the shed roof, it had been dark. Jess couldn’t identify more than his round belly and nasally voice, either.
“Is there any chance that Manuel was one of the men?” The memory of his angry leer made her skin crawl, and she gave an involuntary shudder.
“No.” Will stood and picked up the broom that had been tucked between the counter and the wall in the far corner. Sweeping up the last of the spill with slow strokes, he frowned thoughtfully. “I’d have recognized Manuel or Sergio’s shape or voice. It wasn’t either of them.”
She held a dustpan for him, then rose to dump the contents into the can. Her knees popped as she stood, and she bent to rub them after squatting so long. “What are we going to do?”
“The only thing we can. Stick together and keep our eyes and ears open.”
*
The rest of the day passed in a haze, Jess working on autopilot while Will watched her, concern crinkling the corners of his eyes.
She was nearly ready to begin cleaning up the workstation for the night, when someone barged into the lab. Manuel and Sergio jumped to attention, their slouched positions forgotten in the presence of the new arrival. Sergio managed a sloppy salute. “El Jefe.”
El Jefe said something that put both guards at ease, but his obsidian eyes never left Jess. “Hola. My apologies. I have not been in to check on you in several days.” The little man bobbed his head in a mock bow, but his face ne
ver lost the stern expression. His mustache twitched, reminding her of her unhappy high school principal. Although high-pitched, El Jefe’s English was actually very clear, and she couldn’t help but wonder where he had learned it.
After years of Great-aunt Eva drilling formal etiquette into her, Jess had to bite her tongue to keep from greeting him in return. Her hands shook at the effort it took not to respond, and maybe even more so at the evil that flickered in his eyes. Will’s attempt to comfort her by running the back of his knuckles down her wrist, just out of sight of their visitor, did nothing to ease her nerves.
But at least he was right by her side.
After a long standoff, El Jefe pasted a fake smile into place and turned to Will. “I hope you’re settling in well.”
“Tolerably.” Will’s response earned a low chuckle that didn’t fit such a tiny person.
“Good. Good. And you have everything you need.”
He hadn’t really asked a question, but Jess answered, anyway. “Not even close.”
El Jefe’s head jerked in her direction. The change in his features was minor, but deadly intense. “Oh, really?”
She could manage only a nod as her fingers fluttered for Will’s just below the edge of the table, latching on as soon as they found his. Jess attempted to pull from Will’s strength, trying to keep her knees from buckling.
“And I suppose that’s why you’ve been so slow to produce a demonstration.”
She swallowed against the desert in her throat, but couldn’t produce any real reply other than a hesitant nod.
“Or maybe you’ve been distracted.” The drug lord gestured toward Will, but didn’t break eye contact with her. “Yes, I think that’s it.”
She shook her head. “No. I need the help. I can’t pressurize the canisters alone.” She hated the way her voice jumped half an octave at the end, her lie clearly audible to her own ears. Or was it desperation she heard? She couldn’t let this strange little man separate them. That’s what Will had said. They needed to stay together or they’d never get out alive.
Finally, El Jefe looked away, his gaze settling on a squirming Manuel. Her only clue to the meaning in his rapid-fire Spanish was the gentle squeeze of Will’s hand. It couldn’t be good if Will was trying to comfort her.
“Manuel will take Mr. Darrow back to his room. He can stay there until you show us the poison in action.”
Will pressed his shoulders back but other than that remained still.
Why wasn’t he reacting? How could he be so calm, when her insides were threatening to fly apart at any minute?
Still he said nothing, so with a silent prayer for all the right words, she opened her mouth and let whatever was in there spill out.
“I need his help. But I’m not unleashing Morsyni just for a test run. It’ll kill you, me and everyone else inside these walls.” El Jefe wasn’t impressed, crossing his arms over his round chest. “But if we work together—” she tipped her head toward Will “—we can show you how it will work.”
“When?”
“Tomorrow.” What a terrible thing to promise. What had she been thinking? Clearly, she wasn’t. She was just going on instinct, and hers had never been very good. But Will leaned in closer, his presence familiar and reassuring.
El Jefe narrowed his eyes, said something else to his guards and then nodded. “Tomorrow at noon. You will show us. Everything.”
“Yes.”
He nodded again, then turned and marched out of the lab, slamming the door behind him.
Manuel and Sergio looked as shell-shocked as she felt, her knees buckling until she had to lean against the counter just to stay upright. Only Will appeared unaffected. Or was he? His jaw worked back and forth in a slow rhythm that drew her notice to the tension in his muscles.
He was angry.
Had she said the wrong thing? Said something that would hamper their escape?
Stomach rolling and eyes burning, she risked another glance in his direction. He didn’t have even a half smile for her, but he leaned his hip on the counter next to her, turning more than a shoulder on the other two men.
After several seconds, during which she thought her lungs might explode, he spoke. “You did good, kid.”
The burning behind her eyes turned into full-blown tears leaking down her face. Those words had been the highest praise they’d shared in high school. When she’d aced an exam. When he’d won the race. You did good, kid. It meant he thought she’d done a great job. It meant he was proud of her. It was everything their teenage selves just couldn’t find the words to express.
And right now, it meant more than all the other accolades in the world.
Later, when they were alone, she was going to hug him for that. Just for knowing exactly what to say to make her heart smile, even when fear threatened to tear her to shreds.
“We’ll work it out in the morning.” Her words weren’t as strong as she’d hoped they might be, but she was proud that she’d managed to get anything at all around the lump in her throat.
*
The sun had set long before, and Will had been at his post outside Jess’s room for more than two hours. Leaning against the outside wall, which was slick with moss and mud, he imagined he could hear the deep breathing of her sleep.
He couldn’t count the number of times she’d fallen asleep when they were watching movies late into the night. She had the cutest little snore. More of a snort, really. Just as she was dozing off, her nose would let out a tiny gasp, and then she’d be out, completely oblivious to the rest of the world.
He couldn’t imagine that had changed over the years.
But her nerve sure had.
His chest swelled at the memory of her facing down El Jefe. She hadn’t broken a sweat or looked to him for help. She’d just done whatever it took to keep them from being separated.
Will would have blown up the entire compound before he’d let that slick little jerk order him away from Jess. And he’d been just about to do something drastic— although he wasn’t sure what—when she’d piped up.
She was something else, and he couldn’t deny the pleasure he found in getting to know her all over again—even under these conditions.
This night was less muggy than the past three, and he took a deep breath, letting it soothe the tension in his shoulders. Closing his eyes, he listened to the sounds of the compound. Grunts from the neighboring barracks. A slamming door. Cicadas singing their night song.
And a hard thud followed by a painful grunt.
Will was at attention in an instant. Jogging to the corner of the block wall, he peered around the edge. With five other buildings close by, the entrance to Jess’s room wasn’t well lit. That had been a good thing.
Until now.
Every shape and shadow caught his attention, but nothing appeared out of place.
He closed his eyes to shut out all other distractions, honing in on the same voice that had grunted before. It was cursing now, all the words slurring together. “She thinks she’s too good for us, does she? I’ll show her.” A figure staggered into the alley about twenty feet away. Even at that distance, Will could smell the odor of alcohol, heavy as if the man had showered in it.
Will’s stomach clenched, but he let out a slow breath to keep his physical reaction in check. He had to control himself.
Maybe the drunk would pass out and Will wouldn’t have to do more than watch him sleep it off.
More likely his drunk buddies weren’t too far behind.
Will couldn’t afford to be caught dispatching a threat to Jess—not that he’d have much trouble fighting off the louts he’d seen around the compound. But he couldn’t risk being separated from her.
So he took another deep breath, promptly choking on the stench of the approaching man.
The visitor stumbled again, catching himself on the wall just ten feet from Jess’s door.
Will squeezed his hands into fists, scraping his knuckles against the rough wall between them. Th
e pain kept him grounded, kept his mind on the immediate, so he pressed into it.
With three more uneasy steps, the thug drew even with the door to Jess’s room. The wood creaked as he leaned a shoulder against it, his breathing labored by the short walk.
Will’s own breathing had slowed to an even, smooth tempo as he played out what was going to happen. He had to let the drunk get into Jess’s room, out of sight, before taking the man down or he risked a ruckus that was guaranteed to draw unwanted attention. While his training meant Will knew how to deal with the threat silently, he couldn’t do anything to keep them from being seen if the guy’s friends were around.
But the thought of Jess waking up to a strange man in her room was enough to make Will’s stomach revolt.
He hated that she’d be terrified, and he knew that she would be.
Lord, please let Jess have that wrench handy.
He’d give anything to be able to rush into her room at that moment and defend her. To be the one who could save her from the terror ahead. To be her hero.
He’d wanted to be that man ten years ago, too.
The truth knocked him back against the wall. Covering his face with his hands, he gulped for air that suddenly felt scarce.
He’d never let himself analyze why he’d taken off after she’d shown him the ring Sal had given her. He’d told himself it was because he’d needed a change. He’d wanted to see the world.
But in this moment, he knew the truth. As he waited to save Jess, he saw his actions for exactly what they were.
Cowardice.
He’d run from everything that had terrified him—the very thought of loving Jess, and the sure knowledge that he was going to lose her to the brother he loved, the brother he owed more than money could repay.
What a fool he’d been.
Some would argue he still was.
Will blinked as he heard the door to Jess’s room open, followed by two heavy footfalls.
On a hope and a prayer, he sprinted around the corner.
Before he even reached the door, a solid thump echoed from inside the room, and his heart stopped beating.
