This could be anything.
Only, for me, my job, my life, it’s all tied to the Hellions. I just have to have faith in the club. I have to believe they will find me before anything worse happens.
As I lean back against the cold metal behind me, I have one nagging thought I can’t let go of: why was Julio calling me right before I was taken?
Tortured
My phone rings while I’m in the shower. When the number comes up as unknown, I don’t give it any more thought.
Microwaving a frozen meal, I think about how badly I really have messed up.
We all go through things, bumps in the road of life. Sometimes, we get knocked off course. I took my wife and the life we built together for granted. I was selfish to even think there could be more out there when what we had was good. As the old saying goes, if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it. Why didn’t I follow the mantra? Why did I go borrowing trouble?
Suddenly, there is a pounding on my front door.
“Hold the hell on. Damn,” I yell as I set down the slop I was going to choke down for dinner and make my way to the entrance. Opening the door, I am in no way prepared for Roundman, Frisco, Danza, Tank and the local police.
I throw my hands up in the air. “I’ve got papers. Dammit, Roundman, tell them I’ve got papers!”
My first thought is Jenna. Is this some immigration thing? Is she okay? We are legit. Roundman helped us with it. Our kids are legal. Why is there a cop coming into my place?
Frisco squeezes my shoulder. “We’re not here for that, Ruby.”
“I think you should sit down, brother,” Tank adds, moving in behind me.
Adrenaline pumps through my veins. “What the ever-loving fuck are you here for?”
The cop steps forward. “Are you Ruben Castillo?”
“Si,” I answer in Spanish as my mind races at warp speed. “Yes. I mean, yes.”
“Is your wife Jenna Castillo?”
“Yes, she is my wife, my life. Why are you asking about Vida?”
His next question floors me. “Are you estranged?”
My world stops. I feel like I have been punched in the gut. I can’t breathe, can’t stand, can’t move. Somehow, I nod my head as I feel Tank wrap an arm around my shoulders, keeping me upright.
“When was the last time you spoke to your wife?”
“To-to-tonight … when she got off from work. Where is my wife?”
“There was an incident at the Handy Mart tonight,” the cop begins, and I lunge forward, wrapping my hands around his throat.
“What do you mean an incident? Where the fuck is my wife?” I release him harshly and begin to pace. I look to Roundman. “My kids, who has them?”
“Calm down, brother,” Roundman orders. “Your kids are with Pam and Boomer and don’t know anything.”
I look to the man who is a father figure to me. “Where is Vida?”
Roundman looks to the cop to continue.
“Your wife was attacked.”
At his words, I fall to the floor. The room spins, and rage fills me.
“I’ll kill the son of a bitch who touches one hair on her. I’ll fucking gut them.”
Two, firm hands come down on my shoulders, squeezing. Tank is trying to keep me in place as the cop continues.
“Sir, please refrain from threats. I understand your emotions; however, as an officer of the law, I have to take those seriously, regardless of your place within the Hellions Motorcycle Club.”
I glare.
“At approximately 1830 tonight, a Honda Odyssey minivan registered to you was taped on a security camera pulling up to pump seven. Your wife is seen putting her card in the pump and then moving back to her driver’s seat. At this time, we are unsure the reason she did not continue with her purchase. A person covered in dark clothing and wearing a mask is then taped hitting your wife over the head with a blunt object.”
I shudder and fight the urge to tear everything up in my path.
“The clerk then hit the silent alarm as she watched the person lift your wife’s limp body and carry it over to an eighties model, full-size, black, Chevy van with no plates. Once your wife was inside the van, the driver, who was a different masked individual, pulled away.”
Fear turns like a cyclone in my stomach. Someone has my wife. Someone hit my wife over the head and took her. All of the unknowns scare me.
Is she okay? Have they harmed her more? What are they doing to her?
Unable to keep myself contained, I jump up and rush to the bathroom where I vomit until I am left dry heaving over the toilet. Then, looking over my shoulder at Roundman, I feel helpless.
“Please tell me this is not blowback on the club.”
He shakes his head. “From what we have gathered, no. I can’t make you any promises about why she was taken, but I can tell you this: we will do everything we can to bring her home and seek retribution for touching what belongs to our club. She’s family, and she’s off limits. Someone crossed a line, and they will pay for it. And pay dearly.”
I take a moment to compose myself—it’s my time to be strong for my wife and children. Then, stepping into my living room, I sit down with the officer and my club brothers.
My torture begins. As time passes by, I answer question after question. All the while, my mind races with thoughts of what is happening to Jenna. My whole body is in pain, needing to know she’s okay, yet I’m stuck in place with not even the first lead as to who took her or where they have her.
This kind of torture would have me giving up any government secrets I ever knew just to have the knowledge of her wellbeing.
After finishing the questions, the officer and his partner, who had stayed silent in the corner the whole time, left me alone with my Hellions brothers.
“The boys in blue are out. Now tell me what happened to Vida.”
Frisco is the first to answer, “Really, brother, there isn’t blowback on the club that we can find.”
“Fuck!” I roar.
My phone starts ringing again, and I look to the screen.
Unknown number.
“Hello,” I clip into the phone.
“Llamale a Julio,” a Latino voice instructs before disconnecting the call.
More questions and no answers. All of this is torture to me.
My head is still pounding as time passes by. I don’t know where I am or how long I have been here. I fight not to pass out again.
As I twist my wrists, they burn against the rope holding them together. My stomach rolls, and the need to pee hits me full-on, making me groan in agony.
Silence continues to fill the space around me.
Alone.
I am completely alone.
Insanity sets in as I let my mind go crazy with thoughts.
Will I get to see the beautiful brown eyes of my baby girls again? Will I get the chance to fight with little RJ’s hair in the morning before school? Where are they? Did the same people get them, as well? I tell myself over and over again my children are okay. I left them with Boomer and Pam, who would die before they let anything happen to my babies. Still, my chest aches with longing and worry for them.
Then my mind goes to my husband. Ruben wants to make it right between us. Will we be given the opportunity? Will I ever see him again?
Love is the most passion-fueled emotion we feel. It hurts the most, cuts the deepest, and leaves the ugliest scars. On the flip side of the coin, it has the ability to make us feel whole. Finding love heals our insecurities.
Love is a verb. It is an action. It takes thought and work.
Love is a noun. When you call someone your love, they become the personification of that thing.
Love is an adjective. It describes how we feel.
I love Ruben, mi amor. I am who I am today because of him and the depth of my emotions for him. When it all falls apart, we must go back to where it was from the start.
Simplify.
Once, there was a boy and a girl. They were faced
with the struggles of a life full of danger and poverty. They beat the odds … together. They built a solid life for themselves and their children.
Ruben and I have come from nothing. We may not have a mansion in Beverly Hills, but we do have love. We lost sight of this. In the changes of life, in the hurt from words, and in the whirlwind of many emotions, we lost sight of where it all began: one boy, one girl, one love for one life.
I bite against my gag as tears fall down my face. Will I die not being able to tell him I forgive him? Will I die without one last touch of his lips against mine? Will I die here in this van or container alone?
The salt in the air off the ocean breeze calms me. Today is the day Ruben and I will say our vows before God, Julio, and a few people we have made friends with on the farm. Sure, we did things a little unconventionally by living together before we were a couple. Then we had Maritza before we got married.
We weren’t legal citizens, though. We couldn’t simply go to the court house and get a marriage license without raising some sort of suspicion.
With all the things we weren’t, the one thing we have always been is in love—head over heels, top to toe in love.
Julio has been the most supportive of our relationship. He says he finds comfort in Ruben being able to take care of me if something were to happen to him. Again, my brother is looking out for me and my long-term wellbeing.
Ruben is prospecting for the Hellions Motorcycle Club. The guy we stopped to help on the side of the road back when I was pregnant turned out to be one hell of a guy. He has helped both of us secure our citizenship documents. He paid for it out of the club’s money. It wasn’t until we were right by the law that he would let Ruben prospect.
I don’t know if club life is for us. Roundman says, if not, we still don’t owe him a thing. It is hard to believe, but what other options do we have? He knows too much.
We found a little Hispanic chapel on the beach, and the priest agreed to marry us as he understood our previous predicament. Today, I get to stand on the coast of North Carolina and pledge my unwavering love to my husband.
Thinking back to the day we got married, I know my love for Ruben has never wavered. Sure, it has changed. I love him in different ways than I did back then. The innocence of our youth has long since passed. Our relationship has settled and matured. Is that what spiraled Ruben out of love? All the changes?
Will I ever get a chance to sort out our marriage? Will I ever get to stand on the beach, hand in hand, with my husband again? Fear grips me as I struggle against my bindings once again.
Fighting back the anxiety of the unknown, I get angry. I can’t give up. Ruben and the Hellions will find me. Hell hath no fury like a Hellion when lines are crossed.
Family is off limits!
I don’t know who took me or why, but none of that matters. I’m Ruben ‘Ruby’ Castillo’s wife. Ride or die, we’re motherfucking Hellions.
I smile against my gag. Watch out, assholes; the whole club is coming for you.
I laugh to myself. One thing I know is Roundman and the club won’t stand for this. They will find me.
I just have to hope it’s not too late when they do.
Holding On
Before I can wrap my head around anything, my phone rings again. The display shows my brother-in-law calling, and I can’t help the dread that creeps up inside me.
“Hermano,” I answer.
“Jenna with you?” he immediately barks into the phone.
“No, she’s been taken.”
Before I can get another word out, he is going off. “I’m gonna fucking gut them. When I get done, their own mothers won’t recognize their ugly mugs. No one fuckin’ touches mi hermana.”
As I look at my Hellions’ brothers in the room with me, my temper is boiling. “You need to talk, amigo, and now!” I roar.
“I’ll handle it. Keep the kids safe.”
The click of the phone disconnecting has me seeing red.
“Julio!” I yell.
No reply.
I start to throw my phone, but Danza’s firm hand grips my wrist.
Motherfucking shit. This whole situation went from bad to worse.
He takes the phone out of my hand. “Gotta keep the lines of communication open, brother,” Danza says, reminding me to keep my head clear. If I break the phone, how can Vida reach out?
I look to Roundman. “Get Boomer and Pam with the kids and Pam’s mom to the compound and locked down.”
“The whole club need to be locked in?” Frisco asks, already pulling out his phone to handle business.
I shake my head and stand up to pace the living room. “I don’t think so. I think my family is the only target.”
“Why you?” Roundman asks the question I know they are all silently asking.
I have one answer: “Julio Natera.”
Tank and Frisco speak at the same time. “Jenna’s brother in Mexico?”
I nod my head, wanting to scream, throw something, or punch someone. Guilt fills me. I should have kept a better watch on him. Sure, we send money home, but idle minds have a way of finding trouble, especially when that’s all he knows. With everything going on with Jenna and our relationship, I haven’t even thought to check up on what her brother has been up to.
“Julio, what the fuck have you done?” I yell.
“You can’t lose your cool now!” Danza commands. “We have more information than we started with. That’s a step in the right direction.”
Danza nods to Frisco who looks to Roundman. When the club president gives a nod, Frisco stands and goes to my front door.
“Where the hell are you going?” I ask, feeling helpless.
Frisco smirks. “To handle business.”
I am ready to snap. “Gotta keep me in the loop here.”
“You’re barely holdin’ on, brother,” Tank points out. “Let the club handle business for you.”
I retort, “This is Mexican shit—”
“Got a guy who knows a guy who knows another guy, type of shit, Ruby. Let us handle this,” Danza says.
Can I do this? Can I sit back and rely on my brothers to handle business while my wife is missing?
Fuck no.
I rush to the door, but before I can reach it, Frisco, Roundman, and Danza are holding me back.
“We’ll share any information with you,” Danza explains. “We’ve gotta make some calls and use some markers, brother. You’ve gotta chill and show your kids everything is going to be all right.”
“When we find them, I’m gonna kill every motherfucker who touched her, slowly and painfully.”
Roundman looks me right in my eyes. “We’ll make sure you get that opportunity, brother. You have my word.”
My mind goes back to the vows I gave my wife years ago.
I have no nerves. People say they are nervous on their wedding day. I am not. I am confident in what I have with Jenna and what we will build in the future. Jenna has always and will always be my other half. Today, two become one, as they say, and instead of having nerves, I am filled with pride.
Since losing my mother, no one has been as close to me as Jenna. She is the light in my every moment. She is my reason for waking up and working so hard. She has been my reason even before we got together.
The weather is perfect: not too hot, not too cold. The humidity isn’t sticky, and the gentle wind is soothing while I stand at the altar and pledge my vows without hesitation.
“Today, I give you my word to stand by your side through sickness and in health, through good times and bad. In word and in deed, I will love you for the past, for the now, and for the future.”
The ocean breeze blows, and her ivory sundress whips around her legs as her eyes stay focused on mine. Here we are, hand in hand, in front of God, our priest, our friends, and our little family, pledging ourselves to each other forever.
I remember that day like it was yesterday. I had it all. In that moment, I knew I had found my forever. Then I lost it
. I lost my head. I lost my focus. I lost my love. I’m barely holding on, but in this moment, I promise myself and my wife, when I get her back, we will never be apart again.
Day in and day out with the same person, there are far too many things I took for granted. If I wanted the heat to stay alive in our marriage, I needed to work for it as hard as I expected my wife to. We were two individuals who made a decision to become one unit. That takes two individuals working together toward the same goal. Over time, needs change, but we have to change together.
I let that slip away. I let us fail. I let my wife down when I allowed myself to lose my feelings. I made the choice to let it all slip through my fingers.
Now I know. Now I fight. Once I find her, I will spend my last breath giving her back everything she’s given me—life. I don’t care what it takes. I will show her in word and deed that I do not only love her, but I’m in love with her for the woman she was, is, and will become.
I am not giving up on her. I am not giving up on us. I damn sure am not giving up on our family.
I am barely holding on when the noise of metal sliding on metal sounds in front of me.
“Jenna Natera,” a man’s voice calls out. “Hola, hermana.”
That voice is not Julio. Why is he calling me sister?
I shake my head back and forth. I can’t see. I can’t fight. Am I back in Mexico?
“Llevarla,” the voice commands as two arms pull me to them and toss me over someone’s shoulder.
The need to pee is too much with the pressure from my new angle, so I let loose all over myself and my captor.
“Carajo,” the man carrying me cries out.
“I’ve given birth to three kids, shithead,” I mutter behind my gag, so it comes out sounding like the teacher on a Charlie Brown cartoon.
Deciding I have a small opportunity, I start wiggling. All the twisting makes it hard for him to hold me, so he drops me, and I hit the pavement hard, crying out in agony as pain shoots through my entire body. I will not be deterred, though.
I continue to lash around, wiggling like a worm. Not being able to see where people are, I’m wasting precious energy. I’m barely holding on, but I need to feel like I’m doing something. I will fight until I can’t fight anymore.
Heated Ride: Hellions Motorcycle Club (The Hellions Ride Series Book 7) Page 10
