CHAPTER TWO
A shrill cry yanked Tessa from the yawning abyss.
Her eyes shot open only to slam closed when pain pierced her skull. How many daiquiris did I have? Numbing cold claimed half her body. Were her arm and butt still connected to the rest of her? She raised her hand to cup her throbbing head and came to a jarring stop. A thin, coarse rope bound both her wrists together.
What the… She tested her legs but found her ankles tied as well. This can’t be happening. Sheer willpower kept her from trembling. Where the hell am I? Her head lay on a smooth, dusty, concrete floor. A hand to her face told her dried blood clumped her eyelashes and clung to her temple and cheek. She squinted through the hair strands escaping her French braid to search for Heather.
Daylight splashed a bright rectangle against layered whitewash. Three men sat close by, also bound at hands and feet. The oldest and youngest huddled together, pale and defeated. Whatever happened to them had left their khakis and green pullovers streaked in dried mud. The dark-skinned, older gentleman sported an array of bruises. The younger, heavy-set guy wore one shoe.
The third man sat closest to her. His dark slacks were pristine, his light blue oxford shirt bore monogramed initials she couldn’t make out. He leaned against the cinder block wall, indifferent to the condition of the people around him.
Heather was nowhere to be seen.
A shudder ran through her, followed by a wave of despair. The throbbing developed into a full blown headache centered behind her right eye.
The slap of hard-soled shoes approached from the hallway. Grunts and curses came from somewhere further in the house—not a good sign.
Tessa closed her eyes and relaxed her limbs, praying whoever was approaching would pass her by.
Heavy footfalls echoed against her temple before dissolving into crunches. By the fourth step, she figured out they were walking on loose gravel.
She strained to hear the voices over her drumming heart.
“That’s Heather?” asked a man in Spanish, his thick voice weighed down with heavy, Vader-like breathing. “Thought she was a blonde.”
Oh God. I’d hoped this was a mistake.
Silence stretched out the seconds. “Heather wasn’t alone,” a second man responded. “This girl was grabbed by mistake then everything went to hell.”
“The contract was for Heather Tucker,” Vader jumped to point out.
“I. Know.” Each syllable held a bitter tang. “But we’re stuck with both.”
Vader exhaled noisily. “Is this one involved, too?”
Tessa’s shallow breathing was starting to make her feel lightheaded.
“Likely. She fought like crazy for the blonde chick.”
“Of all the shitty luck.” Vader grunted. “Let’s wake her up and get her talking.”
Tessa’s throat closed. She made an effort to force down excess saliva as bile threatened to crawl up her esophagus. Every graveled step tightened the knot in her stomach.
Their footfalls stopped. “Fuuuuck!” muttered the second voice.
The sound of an approaching vehicle broke the relative tranquility. Lord, this couldn’t get any worse. The driver pulled up close to the house before he cut the engine.
“Primo!” The cheerful tone belied his previous curse.
How did the new arrival fit in with the other two? Primo meant cousin, but she’d heard the term used when calling out to a friend.
“Kris.” Vader greeted him with gusty cheer. “Didn’t expect you this early.”
“Checking in.” The curt answer came from a deep, male voice. “How’d things go?”
“Not the best. Brought the doc in...” The sluggish squeak of rubber soles scraped somewhere down the hall.
Tessa’s mouth went dry and every hair on the back of her neck stood on end. She concentrated on pushing herself up.
One step closer. Two steps. Three steps. She sucked in her breath as her stocky kidnapper came into view. He zeroed in on her. In an instant, his pained expression shifted into a stamp of hatred.
Ohmigod. Wide-eyed, she stared at a dramatic, red stain splashed across his paunch. The dried blood streaked down the dirty, torn shirt to mid-thigh. Bile rose up her throat again. Sensei’s instructions focused on strategy, defense, and escape. He’d never prepared her for the result of the Karate moves.
“Ah, the Little Fox woke up,” he jeered.
Tessa was drowning on dry land. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t fill her lungs.
“My arm hurts every time I move.” He approached her, cradling a bulky cast on his right arm, then dropped to his knee beside her. Tessa wiggled, trying to move back, but he caught her by the shirt front. He loomed over her, an angry, red scrape covering his right cheekbone. “Every time I feel the pain, I think of you.”
Tessa retreated until her neck was flat against the floor. Her lids blinked incessantly of their own accord. This couldn’t be happening. She had to be having a nightmare…except the hand holding her blouse was too real.
“Oscar,” a voice called from behind him. “What the hell are you doing?”
“This bitch is gonna pay!” he spat over his shoulder.
In that split second of distraction, Tessa pulled up and dug her teeth into his wrist. His muscles tensed as he yelped in painful surprise. She clenched her jaw, intensifying the pounding at her temple as he tried shaking free. He could try whatever he wanted, but she wasn’t going down easy.
One hard tug and he was loose, taking part of her blouse with him. “Goddamn bitch.” His hand shot into her bra, grabbing the tender skin and twisting until her scream filled the room.
Tessa swung her knotted wrists, crashing against the middle of the cast. Oscar released her, scrambling back with a bloodcurdling yell. The veins on his neck stood out as he straightened. Red-faced, he pulled back his foot and swung.
Tessa yanked her legs into a fetal position, tightening every muscle as she braced herself for the blow.
Fumbling squeaks drew away, ending in a breath-rattling grunt. Startled, she peeked out to see Oscar’s cast bouncing off the far wall.
“Aaaaah—” he yelled at the top of his lungs until a fist slammed into his nose with a loud crack. His attacker towered over him, his fist ready to go again.
“Wait!” Oscar shielded his face. “W-w-we had to bring her. She saw Felipe and me.” He choked through the blood rushing over his goatee. “I cou-couldn’t leave her behind.”
“Let him go!” demanded Felipe, the man Heather had struggled against.
Oscar’s captor grasped the bloody thug by the throat, pulling him up until only the tips of his shoes touched the ground. “That doesn’t excuse what you did.” The brawny hand squeezed until the veins on Oscar’s forehead popped out and he went from pale to purple.
Tessa lay fixated on the scene, part horrified, part fascinated.
Oscar pulled at the giant’s wrist. Spittle pooled at the corner of his mouth as he struggled to inhale. Wide eyes jerked around, seeking help from their audience.
Everyone, captives and captors alike, held their collective breath. Tessa flinched, her ribs protesting the sudden movement.
“Kris!” Felipe gave a false start, but remained frozen in place.
“Try getting your revenge when she isn’t tied up.” Kris released the choke hold and Oscar stumbled down. “You might get a matching cast for the other arm.” He shoved the poor, choking bastard through the doorway he’d entered from.
After the initial shock passed, a couple of the men laughed.
Kris faced her. Surprisingly, his white shirt remained immaculate and tucked into dark jeans. Dismayed, Tessa drew back from the same intoxicating gaze that had mesmerized her last night.
How could she have such a fierce reaction to him, romanticizing what could have been? Her instincts must have been subdued by desire.
Heat blazed for an intense moment before his features turned to stone.
“Os-car.” He tsked in mock disappo
intment. “This little girl kicked your ass?”
He took quick stock of her appearance then disappeared into the hallway.
How did I get myself into this? The pounding in her temple drowned out everything else. She closed her lids, letting her head ease onto the cool, concrete floor. The episode had drained every ounce of energy she had left.
…
“Hey.” Vader, a scraggly-looking, fat man who apparently didn’t own a toothbrush shook her by the shoulder.
The world spun, her acknowledging nod only tilted the axis.
“Yes.” Her voice bubbled out in a croak. A few seconds later, she built up enough saliva to offer some relief. “I’m awake.”
“What’s your name, Little Fox?” he asked in accented English.
“Tessa.” Once again, she pushed herself up.
Greedy eyes raked her body, cataloguing every detail. She’d give a year of her life for a shower, anything to scrub away the residue of his vile inspection.
A dark-skinned man arrived, carrying a duffle bag. “Cruz, the guy’s father came through.” His quick Spanish held the lilt of a country boy. “Here’s the money.”
Cruz’s head swiveled, cementing the Vader image in her head. “How’d the exchange go?”
“Without a hitch.” The man dropped the bag between his feet and opened the zipper.
Cruz stretched, huffing in effort, daring the chair to do more than squeak in protest. His yellow and brown striped shirt flashed a flap of hairy stomach. He brought up a fist full of bills, flaunting a puckered scar going up his forearm and past his elbow.
“Get this pendejo outta here.” He signaled toward the well-dressed prisoner before his attention returned to Tessa. His double chin rested on his chest. “You want to go home?”
Her stomach flip-flopped. If freedom cost that kind of money, they were toast. She searched the room for Heather, only to end up disappointed.
“Hey!” Cruz snapped his fingers to reclaim her attention. “Hey! You okay?” He reached down to untie the knot at her feet.
Tessa nodded, bringing up her hands to cover her chest.
“Where’s my friend?” Her voice cracked at the end. She swallowed before she tried to continue. “The other girl in the car.”
Sausage-link fingers strummed down his grease-stained shirt. “She’s got some atoning to do.” His eyes bore into her. “What about you, chiquita? Do you have any confessions to make?”
Oh God. Heather, what did you do? She shook her head. “I have nothing to say.”
His winning smile displayed a gap between discolored teeth. “Then we shouldn’t have a problem. Can you come up with money to get you home?”
Tessa chewed her lip, struggling with a wave of despair. Her savings account was empty, and her credit limit was slashed when the economy went bust. The clunker she owned wasn’t worth much, and the house she’d just bought wasn’t even in her name yet. Only one option remained to buy herself out of this mess. She’d have to call Monica. Money wasn’t an issue for her best friend’s family. But contacting Moni would put her on the cartel’s radar. What if someone else ended up in danger? She’d never be able to live with herself. Moni’s family had already lost two members to senseless violence.
She steeled herself against the cold fear screaming in her head. “No.” The syllable held no regret. “There’s nobody to provide a ransom.”
Cruz eyed her body from hips to breasts with an appreciative nod. “It’s okay, Little Fox.” His malevolent tone turned her stomach. Bile bubbled in the back of her throat. “I’m sure we can find other ways to work things out.” He grabbed the binding at her wrists then yanked her to her feet.
Tessa hissed. Pain raked up her arms when the rope grazed her raw skin. He pulled again, testing her unsteady legs, almost sending her into a prisoner’s lap. She twisted, tap-dancing over legs and feet, trying to keep from landing on either man.
“Come on.” He dragged her toward the hall despite her muttered curses.
Her mind raced, trying to find any chance to escape. Taking him on would be useless. Even if she gained her balance, he was too big for her to do much damage.
Felipe’s lanky frame blocked the doorway. “What’s going on?”
“Our visitor can’t pay for her stay.” Cruz said in a sing-song tone, earning him a murderous glare from Tessa.
“She can wait. We need to talk.” Felipe disappeared down the hall.
Cruz grunted, his face twisting into a grimace. Tessa held her breath while his hold on the rope tightened and released. He shoved her back and pointed to the floor. “I’ll be right back for you.”
…
Kris stared at the half-empty Coke bottle. The cold drink satisfied his need for caffeine better than coffee ever could. He needed the extra kick this morning. Today’s visit wasn’t going well. He couldn’t blame Felipe for his annoyance. How else should a guy act if someone came into his territory barking orders?
Felipe went straight to the back door, pulling a cigarette from a soft-pack before shoving it into the breast pocket of his dress shirt. He seemed preoccupied, likely trying to figure out how to untangle himself from this mess. In his thirty-plus years, he’d likely never taken full responsibility for his actions, much less the consequences. How he’d worked his way up to underboss was still in question.
Cruz shuffled in, clearing his expression as he settled at the hallway entrance. Maybe he was the reason Felipe was scrambling for an escape. The older, heavy-set man found pleasure in torturing his counterpart—figuratively speaking, of course. Though he’d have no issue coming up with creative ways to cause excruciating pain—that particular talent made him the perfect sicario, or enforcer, for the cartel.
Although he knew he wouldn’t like the answer, Kris questioned both men. “Tell me about the woman.”
Felipe blew a cloud of smoke toward the ceiling. His subtle change in stance brought his right arm against his ribs.
Cruz rubbed his chest, a sure sign of anxiety. He shifted his weight, taking a deep breath. “Juarez put out a contract—”
“I’m well aware.” Kris exhaled, giving Cruz a dead stare. “I showed up at the club last night to help bring her in quietly.”
Felipe’s jaw tensed as he rolled the cigarette between his fingertips.
“Oh.” Cruz stepped forward and leaned against the faded kitchen cabinet. “Then Felipe can take over from here.” He grinned, crossing one foot over the other like he didn’t have a care in the world.
“The blonde left the club.” Felipe tossed the cigarette out the door then folded his arms. “Oscar pulled the car over, but got this one by mistake.”
Damn, he hadn’t tagged the red-head as a player. Maybe he was slipping. “And?” Kris prodded.
Felipe clenched his jaw so hard it twitched. “The girl caught him by surprise. Broke his arm and messed up his foot.”
Cruz scoffed. “Way to downplay the story.”
Kris focused on Felipe. “What else?”
“She got my arm,” he muttered, avoiding eye contact. “And Jaime’s ankle.”
“Jaime?” Kris shook his head. “How’d he end up there?”
“He rode along.” Felipe shrugged. “Good thing, too. He caught the Fox when Oscar went down.”
Kris frowned at the news. Jaime was a sixteen-year-old halcon for the cartel. But keeping watch wasn’t enough for him. Having lost his father, Jaime was the man of the house. He was responsible for his mother and two sisters, so he’d come looking for work in the only life he’d ever known. He was ambitious and anxious to move up. The damn kid didn’t realize what he was getting himself into, but Kris did. He’d made sure Jaime stayed in the fringe of the cartel’s dealings. “What did you find out about her?” he asked Cruz.
“I don’t know, man. She iiiiis cold.” Cruz shook his head in disbelief. “When women are brought in, there’s tears, begging, and prayers asking for safe deliverance. This chick…” His thumb pointed over his shoulder. “Just said she
couldn’t get money.” He counted off on meaty fingers. “She didn’t flirt, cry, beg, or try to negotiate.”
“She knows what’s up,” Felipe chimed in. “After I got the blonde, this one went Bruce Lee on Oscar then came after me.” He straightened. “Why didn’t she run?”
“But you don’t know for sure?” Kris needed certainty, not a string of assumptions.
Cruz raised his shoulders, forehead wrinkling. “She didn’t pass this off as a mistake.”
“So you’re not sure.”
“Well…” His shoulders slumped. “She asked for her friend and said her name’s Tessa. That’s all I got.”
“Bitch is more trouble than she’s worth,” Felipe blurted.
The whisper of a careful footstep on gravel made Kris smile. He put the Coke bottle in a crate with the other returnables. “Well, you may not have to worry about her for long.”
Felipe frowned. “What do you mean?”
Kris nodded toward the back room. “I think your pigeon flew the coop.”
Felipe glanced back and shoved Cruz aside, squeezed past, and ran down the hallway.
Cruz followed at his own pace. “Damn it. Who left the gate open?”
They wanted her to run. Heightening her senses, making the struggle more enticing when the miserable animals caught her. Typical Felipe tactic, creating a situation to justify beating and raping her when he was actually retaliating for what she’d done to Oscar. He’d get revenge and have a good reason to ignore the Juarez Boss’s order to turn over the girl “intact”. Kris stepped into the vault, a windowless room where the cartel stored excess money. He pulled a pump action, sawed-off shotgun from atop the cabinet then followed the others outside. He stopped next to Cruz, who hadn’t given chase.
“Which one you think runs more like a girl?” Kris ignored Cruz’s ribbing. The girl had a good head start, but Felipe’s longer legs ate up the ground between them.
Cruz glanced over and scoffed. “That’s not gonna reach her.”
“Doesn’t have to.” Kris grasped the shotgun in his left hand, pointing the business end up and away from Cruz. He jerked the pump down and waited, hoping his plan worked. This was the worst possible time for him to jeopardize his cover.
Desire & Deception Page 2
