by Sara Fields
Maybe he’d take me over his knee and make my bottom match the color of the panties before he tore them clean off me.
I shivered in anticipation of such a lusciously rough evening ahead. I picked out several more items, including a hand-woven beach bag to carry my purchases around with me. The cashier asked for only my name and I gave Grayson’s instead of my own. She nodded and didn’t ask for anything else before she put my choices into the handbag.
I stopped by several more stores, finding a menswear one at the end of the walkway.
I didn’t know his size, so I wandered a bit absentmindedly through it. At the back, I found a display of belts and I swallowed heavily as I tentatively touched them. The leather was so soft and well-conditioned. I licked my lips.
All of them were handmade.
Without thinking, I closed my eyes and dragged my fingers over them all. When I approached the softest one, I stopped and opened my eyes. It was black leather lined with a gray threading. It looked a bit worn, but that only added to the allure of it. I lifted it off the rack and wound it around my waist, trying to decide if it would fit him or not. I thought it would.
Feeling brave, I went to the counter and smiled at the man at the register. He looked at me curiously, but when I said to put it on my husband’s tab, he cocked his head with even more interest.
“Grayson Asher? Who might you be then?” he asked kindly.
“I’m his wife,” I grinned, proud to be able to say that to someone else for once.
“I’d heard something about him getting married. He’s a lucky man,” he offered, and I nodded my thanks.
“Thank you. The belt is a gift for him,” I said.
“I’m glad to hear it. I stitched this one up myself,” he answered.
“It’s beautiful,” I replied. I wouldn’t tell him that I was secretly hoping that Grayson would like it enough to use it for more than just holding up his pants. The man rolled up the belt and packaged it in several sheets of blue tissue paper. He tied it with a bow and passed it to me to put into the bag over my shoulder.
“Thank you. Have a wonderful day,” I said as I turned away.
“You too, Mrs. Asher,” he replied. I left the shop and glanced back in the window to see the man making a call on his phone. I don’t know why but being in such close quarters with him had unsettled me and I couldn’t put my finger on why. I decided it was time to return to the cabana and see if Grayson had awoken from his afternoon siesta.
I couldn’t wait to show him what I’d found.
I shrugged my bag up on my shoulder and took off toward the beach, allowing my mind to lose itself in fantasies of what the next several days would bring.
A scream caught me off guard. I jerked my head to the side to see a child on the pavement behind the lingerie shop. He looked like he’d fallen and skinned his knee. With a cursory glance, I realized that his parents didn’t appear to be anywhere nearby, so I rushed over to see if he was okay.
“Hey there,” I said quietly, trying not to appear threatening or scary in any way whatsoever. He looked up at me and his eyes watered. “Hey now, it’s okay. Do you live around here?” I asked carefully. He looked like a local rather than a tourist, so I figured it was a decent guess.
He nodded, sniffling back tears.
“I can help you get back home. I bet your mom will get your knee all bandaged up,” I offered.
“You don’t have to do that,” the boy said shakily. He was about seven or eight by my estimation.
“I insist. Here. Take my hand,” I demanded gently, and he reached for me even as a few stray tears dripped from his chin. “Where’s home?”
“About five minutes down the path there,” he replied. Behind the shops lining the port, there was a dense jungle, but it looked like a well-worn dirt path cut through some of it.
“Come on now. Let’s get you home,” I said, taking the boy’s small hand in mine. We walked down the path together. Once I was surrounded by the trees, I looked around. It was quiet, the only audible sounds coming from the bar not far away. When we got deep enough into the jungle, the bar faded away and the songs of birds grew loud around us. He kept my hand within his own the whole way.
“How much further?” I asked.
“Just around the corner,” he said.
I looked back down the path, feeling apprehensive for some reason. There was no one behind us though and I tried to shrug it off. We continued a bit further and I paused as we turned the bend, sighing with relief when a small house came into view. It was nicer than I expected. It wasn’t very big, but it was covered in clean creamy white stucco that made it stand out amongst the trees. I approached the bright red front door with the boy, and it swung open. There was a petite woman behind it. She smiled warmly, but her lips were tight and when her gaze flicked nervously over my shoulder, that uneasy feeling from before surged back with dizzying force.
“Come on inside, Emilio. Let me take care of that knee,” she said shakily. Her eyes widened and I released the boy’s hand to turn around only to catch a glimpse of a group of men. I screamed before the sound was quickly cut off by a piece of coarse fabric shoved between my lips. I tried to run, but their arms grasped at me, and a black hood covered my head, cutting off my sight completely.
I fought with everything in me, but I was quickly overpowered. There were at least a half a dozen men surrounding me, all locals by the looks of it. I kicked and I punched, but they swiftly bound my wrists and ankles until I couldn’t move anymore. Something knocked me in the back of the head really hard and I swore I saw stars.
I tried to hold onto consciousness, but someone forced a wet cloth over my nose. The hood material got wet, and I whimpered. The scent of it was sickly sweet, like flowers maybe, and everything went black.
Chapter 10
Everything fucking hurt.
A hard jostle tossed me to the side, and I groaned, knocking my forehead against something hard. I blinked several times, groaning as the ringing in my ears reached a fever pitch. My head was pounding, and it took a while for me to realize that I was still hooded. It felt like I’d swallowed a mass of cotton balls. My shoulders were stiff and sore, and the back of my head hurt more than anything.
Fuck. Me. Where the fuck was I?
I tried to move my wrists, but the scratching of rope against my skin kept me from doing much of anything. I felt the same thing on my ankles. I wasn’t flexible enough to slide my bound wrists under my butt, so I just worked on gradually sliding them back and forth behind me. After a fair amount of effort, they felt a bit looser.
I focused on that rather than the panic brewing deep inside me. Now was not the time to fully lose my shit.
An angry clang and the roaring sound of a motor surrounded me. As I jostled back and forth again, I hesitantly guessed I was in the trunk of some kind of sedan. The engine sputtered and a hard bump made me fly upward, knocking my head on the metal part of the trunk. I yelped as a fiery jolt of pain throbbed across my skull. Desperately, I fiddled with my wrist bonds a bit more. Whoever tied me hadn’t done a particularly good job, because in a few more minutes I was able to get one of my wrists to slide out without it hurting too much. It pinched and I was sure I’d given myself a rope burn but getting my hands free was more than worth it. I stretched my fingers as a wave of numbness poured down my wrists, but then I quickly ripped the mask off my head and the cloth gag out of my mouth. Once my face was uncovered and I could draw in a full breath, my pounding heart started to calm just the slightest bit. I looked around me, trying to figure out my next move.
I’d been right. I was in someone’s trunk. I couldn’t figure out much about the model from the inside though. There was a bit of light that bled through the rear taillights, and I could see enough to tell it was some older sedan, but that was about it. I pushed against one of them with my hand, but I couldn’t get enough leverage against it. I remember reading somewhere in some crazy internet news story that a kidnap victim stuck in a tru
nk could kick out a taillight and signal to people outside the car for rescue. It seemed like my best bet, but I was going to have to free my ankles to do it.
I went to work on the rope around my feet next. That knot was tighter, and I had to curl up and use both hands to try to untie it. Unable to really get a good look at it, I had to use a lot of guesswork to even begin to loosen it. After a while though, I found what felt like the right piece of rope and pulled it. I sighed in relief when the tie gave way. I fluttered my feet and kicked off the rough piece of rope.
If my shoulders weren’t sore and I wasn’t stuck in the trunk of some lunatic’s car, I would have patted myself on the back.
Without any further delay, I rearranged myself so that I could press the heel of my foot against the taillight. I used just a little bit of force against it at first, but it didn’t budge. I kicked it a little harder and grunted in disappointment when it still didn’t move.
Just when I was winding up to kick out the light with everything in me though, the car rolled to a stop and the motor cut off.
Fuck me sideways. This wasn’t good.
Quickly, I grabbed the rope and slid my hands behind my back. I worked it back over my wrists before the trunk opened and I was blinded by the bright blue of the sky overhead. I blinked several times and tried to get my eyes used to the sudden change as quickly as I could. Shapes started to form in front of me. Three of them.
I kept blinking, but by the time I realized that they were three large men they had already reached out to grab me and yank me out of the trunk. The man closest to me squeezed my arm tight enough that I knew it would bruise. When I struggled to take a step, they didn’t pause or even try to help steady me. They just let me stumble and fall, laughing as I jarred my shoulder pretty hard into the dirt. I cried out as the sharp edge of a rock dug into my shoulder. One of them finally pulled me up by my upper arm and led me down a dirt path.
It looked like they’d taken me somewhere deeper into the jungle. I had no idea how far away from port we were. I’d been knocked out for part of the journey, and I wasn’t sure how long that had been for. We could be more than a hundred miles from port for all I knew.
I turned my head and got a good look at the side profile of the big man dragging me through the brush. He was definitely Mexican, but there wasn’t a single thing about him that seemed friendly. There was a fierce-looking scar on the side of his face that cut through his thick sideburns, and a permanent scowl on his face. He was at least twice my size and the two men who followed were just as big.
When I stumbled over a tree root, the man’s scowl only deepened, and he jerked me hard. I flew forward and only just caught myself with a massive step, but it jolted my knee hard in the process.
“Where are we?” I asked.
“Wasn’t she gagged?” the man growled, and the raspy current of his voice chilled me to the core.
“I don’t know. Maybe Jose did a shit job of tying it over her head,” one of the others answered.
“Her shoulder is bleeding,” the one to my back left observed.
“Fuck. The boss wanted her unharmed,” the big one jerking me along mumbled.
“She’s alive. Isn’t that the same thing?”
“Let me go. I’ll give you whatever you want,” I offered, trying the path of least resistance first.
“Ha! Nemesio would cut off my left nut if I took what I want,” Scar answered.
“Probably the right one too,” Righty added with a dangerous chuckle. Righty had a pretty trim goatee. I kind of wanted to punch it right off.
Nemesio…
The man my father had arranged for me to marry.
Fuck. This was bad.
I glanced down and saw a gun tucked in Scar’s belt. A cursory look back at the others confirmed they had their own too. These didn’t seem like a trio of nice guys. They were dressed in jeans and t-shirts: one gray, another red, and the last one black. They seemed strong and I knew I wouldn’t have much of a chance if I tried to fight them. If anything, I’d just end up dead.
Wherever we were, I was deep in cartel territory.
“Nemesio?” I asked.
“Yeah. He’s inside, sugar tits. Welcome home,” Lefty replied, and Scar’s scowl only deepened.
“You know, she’s prettier than I expected for a scientist type,” Righty observed, and I wanted to punch him straight between the eyes. I thought better of it though and simply glared at him instead.
“What does Nemesio want from me?” I pressed and my three gigantic escorts sealed their lips. They didn’t say a single word and just dragged me forward down a path until a big Spanish-style villa came into view. We’d entered the property through some nondescript side entrance, rather than through the driveway for some unknown reason.
I attempted to pull my arm from Scar’s grasp, but it only resulted in him gripping me even tighter.
The crisp white stucco was stark against the dark greenery of the surrounding jungle. The rust red roof tiles were bright against the blue sky. The mansion had multiple levels and great curved arches that only added to the extravagant decadence. It was a massive home and the detailed landscaping around it was simplistic, but perfectly done.
Righty, Lefty, and Scar led me to a side entrance and forced me inside. I had to keep my eyes on my feet so I didn’t trip. I really didn’t want to fall on the tile beneath me. It would hurt a hell of a lot more than the dirt outside.
The inside walls were covered in white plaster and lined with a number of paintings of the Virgin Mary and other seemingly religious scenes. There were several landscape images of both the jungle and the beach. Along the hallway were a few lush potted plants. Some of them were quite striking.
They jerked me along to the center foyer of the house where they stopped and finally released me. I slipped my hands from the ropes behind my back, and they said nothing. There was nowhere for me to go anyway, not when the three of them were armed with guns. They’d probably start shooting me for sport if they could.
A man cleared his throat above me, and my gaze was pulled upward. Righty, Lefty, and Scar took a step back.
“Your bride, as you requested, boss. She is unharmed,” Scar blurted, and I scowled back at him.
“Ahh. Miss Zoe Parker in the flesh,” Nemesio growled, and I turned my glower back toward him.
“Dr. Zoe Asher,” I corrected firmly and Nemesio’s grin widened precipitously. My lungs tightened with fear, and I found it difficult to pull in a full breath.
“You might assume that, yes, Zoe. But not anymore,” he replied.
“What did you do?” I spat and he shook his head, just staring at me. His eyes were such a dark brown that they bordered on black. His skin was a darkened tan. He’d clearly spent more of his fair share in the sun. His beard was thick but groomed to edge into thick sideburns. He was a bigger guy, but unlike Grayson who was big and hard, this man was pudgy. He was probably two hundred and fifty pounds, but he didn’t look like he worked out a day in his life.
Around his waist was a belt complete with a gun holster and a rather grisly-looking knife. I glared at him, and he simply grinned at my ire.
The danger that radiated from him was far more vicious and unyielding than anyone I’d ever seen before, even Grayson. Even when he’d torn my clothes off and pinned me over his desk, I’d never felt like he would really hurt me. Sure, he’d spanked my bottom bright red on multiple occasions, but he never gave off the impression that he’d shoot me between the eyes if I ever said the wrong thing. Nemesio looked like a man who wasn’t afraid to slap a woman around or murder her husband to get what he wanted.
I had the distinct feeling that Nemesio was exactly that kind of cold-blooded evil.
I needed to tread very carefully going forward.
“I took care of it,” he replied. Everything about him was evasive and dangerous. I forced myself to hold my tongue more than usual, knowing that anything I said could get me killed or worse, make whatever he did to Grays
on that much more terrible.
“Did you kill him?”
He didn’t answer and nothing about his expression gave me any sort of clue whatsoever. I decided that changing the subject would be the next best course no matter how much my anxious heart squeezed in fear over Grayson’s fate. I didn’t want to make anything worse than it already was.
“Why am I here?”
“Ismael promised me a bride in exchange for peace between my family and his. He didn’t tell me he’d also made a side deal with Grayson Asher, and he didn’t go as far as to even bring me in on it, so as far as I am concerned there’s still a wedding that needs to take place,” Nemesio explained.
“I’m already married,” I blurted, and his grin widened impossibly further.
“Sure. In the United States. Do you think I much care about that here in Mexico? In my home? You are mine by contract. I paid for you in blood, sweat, and a shitload of money so I’m taking what I’m owed,” he said, a vicious undercurrent to his words.
“You can’t do that,” I answered, and he just laughed.
“Do you know who I am?” he chuckled. “I am Nemesio Oseguera Cervantes. When I tell someone to sit, they sit. I tell them to roll over and play dead, they roll over and play dead. They do what they’re told unless they really do want to wind up dead, along with every single member of their family beside them. I don’t tolerate anything less.”
“You’re insane,” I said, my voice rising in pitch.
“If I were someone else, the officials inside the registrar office would deny the legality of our marriage, but they answer to me. Later today, we will perform a civil ceremony in the back gardens and by the time night falls, you will be my wife by all legal definitions, at least here in Mexico. It won’t matter where else because you’re never going back,” he spat.
“I won’t marry you,” I yelled, my fury palpable. It didn’t seem to have any effect on Nemesio.
“You don’t have a choice, Zoe. Ismael and I signed a contract. I paid him a tidy sum for you. I agreed to stay out of his territory for years. I kept my end of the bargain. I don’t give a flying fuck if he tricked Grayson Asher into paying for you too. He sold you to me first,” he said. He was clearly beginning to show annoyance at my protests, and I didn’t know if that was a bad thing yet or not.
