The Billionaire From San Diego

by Susan Westwood

  The man went down the stairs into the garage faster than seemed safe, tossing her into the back of the Porsche Cayenne so carelessly that she bounced and ended up on the floor with her hands pinned beneath her body. The man she’d kicked in the groin got into the back seat, smiling at her as he grabbed a big handful of hair and yanked her up into the seat and buckled her in.

  “Safety first,” he said, patting her face as he did.

  She fought the urge to spit in his face as the large man peeled out of the garage and up the road, but she knew better. She was outnumbered, and these men weren’t above killing her if she caused too much trouble. The best chance she had of getting away was to stay alive and stay alert. The more she paid attention, the more likely she could find a way to get away from these men and to safety. Maybe she could make them slip up, but she wasn’t sure if that was possible. They were seasoned professionals. She had to stay calm, and she had to stay focused.

  “Don’t you think it’s a little stupid to take one of David’s cars? He’ll just report it stolen and you’ll get caught.”

  The driver laughed, looking at her in the rearview mirror, his foot to the floor. She was waiting for them to get pulled over, but when they merged onto the freeway, they weren’t the only ones doing ninety in the middle of the night, and they weren’t likely to be picked out of the crowded traffic.

  “We’ll be across the border in forty-five minutes, tops. If he wakes up before then, there’s no way they’re going to find us in time.”

  “The car has GPS.”

  “It will be in a million pieces as soon as we ditch it across the border. The GPS won’t do them any good.”

  Her heart sank. He was right. By the time he finished filing the report, the GPS would be disabled and there would be no way of tracking where they’d taken her. She was going to have to save herself, because there was no way she was going to live long enough to wait for David to find her.

  She leaned against the car door and watched the traffic whiz by. There were dozens of people within sight of the car they were in, but no one knew what was happening. She was surrounded by people and completely and utterly on her own. There was no hero in a cape, no prince on a white horse. Just Kelissa, terrified and shaking, and wishing that she’d never asked David to take her to the beach house for the weekend. When it was all said and done, she was probably going to pay for that choice with her life, and she couldn’t bear the thought of her father finding out on the news that his only daughter had been murdered by the drug cartel.

  He’d worked his fingers to the bone to get her away from violence, and she’d managed to find her way right back to it. She’d ignored her gut when she thought there was something shady about David and his secrets, and now she was going to pay the price for it.

  *

  Kelissa stayed in the same position without moving, watching the city go by with feigned indifference. But on the inside, she was planning, sizing up opportunities and throwing them aside one at a time. So far, there hadn’t been any opportunities to draw attention to the car she was in, and she was more than a little frustrated. Not only was it dark, but the people that rode even with her car when they passed under street lights and through the more illuminated areas were so busy with their phones or their passengers that not one person looked her way.

  She just hoped that whatever guards they had at the border crossing would be alert and able to help her. Once she was in Mexico, she knew she was a goner.

  The sign for the last US exit came up on the freeway, and she tensed, readying herself for action. The large kidnapper moved his left arm from the rest on the driver’s side door, and she noticed that the child locks weren’t engaged.

  Good, she thought. When he slowed down for the traffic going through the border, she would jump out and run. Except that her hands were still tied behind her back, and she was buckled in.

  She started to panic, her breath coming faster and her heart pounding, though none of her captors seemed to notice her change in demeanor. She closed her eyes, willing herself to remain calm. Frightened didn’t make good decisions. She needed to act, not react, and that required her to be calm.

  Breathing through her nose and out her mouth, she slowly calmed down while she pulled against the rope that bound her. The man had tied it sloppily, and with any luck, she could work one hand free, leaving the rope on the other wrist.

  She flicked her eyes his way, but he wasn’t paying attention to her. He was looking out the window, cradling his injured manhood and looking like he was doing his level best to hold back his tears. She couldn’t help the smirk that spread across her face. He had underestimated her, and it had cost him dearly. He wouldn’t make that same mistake again, she was sure, but at least he knew that she wasn’t just going to go quietly into the night without fighting for her life.

  The last US exit was looming in the distance, but traffic showed no signs of slowing. The rope was getting looser, but she couldn’t seem to pull her hand out of—

  “What are you doing?” the man in the back seat with her asked suddenly.

  “I have to pee,” she lied.

  “You’ll have to hold it. Quit wiggly. You’re making me nervous.”

  “Quit rubbing your crotch like a little baby,” she shot back.

  He laughed at her.

  “Keep it up. Salvador loves his pets feisty.”

  “I’m not his pet.”

  “We’ll see about that. He’ll have you singing a different tune in no time, or your body will be rotting in a ditch somewhere when your boyfriend finds you.”

  He turned and said something in Spanish to the men in front and the trio laughed. The last US exit was in sight, and Kelissa was still stuck. But now that the man in the back seat had taunted her, he was focused on the road ahead and chatting with his friends. No one was paying attention to her, and there was only one mile left before they would cross the border.

  She pulled at the rope and finally got just enough give to pull her left hand out inch by inch. Once her hand was free, she kept it behind her back, not willing to risk them seeing her before she could escape.

  Her heart sank when she saw the sign ahead that welcomed them to Mexico. The traffic coming into the US was at a standstill while agents with drug sniffing dogs walked up and down the rows of cars that inched forward every few seconds. But the southbound side was clear, the single guard post deserted this early in the morning, all eyes on people heading north.

  The southbound traffic slowed down, but their speed held at seventy miles per hour. Even with the best of luck, there was no way she could survive jumping out of the car at that speed. Tears welled as she watched the northbound crossing pass her by without so much as a glance from the dozens of agents diligently working the lines. Help was right there, but there was no way for her to get to them.

  She leaned against the seat, closing her eyes against the tears that she couldn’t hold back. She’d been in trouble before, but this was bad. She was alone in a foreign country. She didn’t speak the language, was unfamiliar with the layout of Tijuana and the only thing she did know about the city was that it was extremely violent. Those who weren’t involved in crime turned a blind eye. It was the only way to protect themselves and their families from becoming victims of the cartel. Kelissa wouldn’t get help from a random Good Samaritan in this neighborhood. People were scared for their own lives. One lost and terrified American wasn’t worth it.

  “You can look at where we’re going,” the driver said, stuttering over the words in his heavy accent. “We’re not trying to hide our destination from you. I’m sure you know what that means.”

  “You’re going to kill me,” she said flatly.

  He shrugged.

  “Kill you or send you further south. Whatever the case, you aren’t going to kick your way out of this.”

  The driver laughed, but the man in the back seat scowled at her. It seemed he didn’t enjoy the joke as much as the other men had.

 
The car slowed, taking the third exit and driving up a long, sloping hill.

  It was dark, too dark to see more than the outline of the building that loomed above them, but she could see the hill that sloped down on either side. There was nothing but dirt and brush, and she knew there would be the occasional cactus, making going down the hill dangerous at best. Plus, there were no other houses that she could see, which meant that her best bet would be running down the long road and hoping she got back to the houses and businesses that were a little over a mile away.

  That was if she could escape. Things weren’t looking good.

  “This is where you get out,” the driver said, laughing. “I hope you enjoy the ride.”

  “Destroy that car,” another voice said.

  The door beside her was yanked open, and there was a man dressed all in black completely invisible in the dark night without street lights. She hadn’t seen him or the man that was with him. She held her hands together behind her back, hoping that no one would check the rope that bound her. The man pulled her out of the car, dragging her to another vehicle that waited, tucked between two trees in the yard and out of sight.

  Someone grabbed her from the man, and she heard the trunk of the car pop open.

  “No! Please!” she yelled, but she was already being dumped into the trunk, the lid slamming with a terrifying thud and plunging her into complete and utter darkness.

  She kicked and screamed, too scared to care if she created a scene, but the engine roared to life and the radio was turned up so loud that she couldn’t hear herself think. Gravel sprayed out from beneath the tires as the new vehicle lurched forward, then raced down the steep hill so fast that Kelissa’s stomach was in her throat. The other three had been nice compared to this man, and Kelissa’s fear grew tenfold.

  Had David even woken up yet? And if he had, would he report her missing and risk exposing his own involvement with the drug cartels, or would he cut his losses and move on, knowing that no one back home would know where to begin to look for her, and he could claim that she just left and took his Porsche with her. If they ever found the Porsche, they would assume she’d been a victim of the crime that ran rampant in the border town, and there would be little gone. They would never find out what happened to her and he would be off the hook.

  Would he do that to her, after the moments they’d shared together?

  There was a loud blast that echoed off the hills around them, and the driver whooped in obvious delight as the air reverberated inside the car. They’d blown up the Porsche, ensuring that there was no way now that it could be tracked. If David had woken up and was actually tracking the car in hopes of rescuing her, that hope was crushed now, along with her spirits. She was going to die.

  She was panicking again, and she willed herself to calm down and think. There was a way out of this, she just knew it.

  She started feeling around the trunk, looking for a flashlight or anything that would illuminate the small space. She was kicking herself for leaving her phone sitting on the sink in the bathroom, but they would have taken it from her anyway. But there was nothing, and it wasn’t until the driver slammed on the car’s brakes that she realized she could see the brake lights from the inside as well as the outside.

  For a brief moment, there was enough light to see most of the trunk, and she saw what she needed immediately. She reached out for the heavy wrench. It was at her fingertips when the car went through a huge dip in the road, launching Kelissa and the contents of the trunk into the air and slamming her around in the small space. Frantic, Kelissa felt around the area, but the driver wasn’t big on using his brakes or his blinkers, and it was several minutes of searching in vain for the wrench before the brake lights finally came on again.

  “Gotcha,” she whispered, even though there was no way the man could hear her over the blaring music.

  She grabbed the wrench and tucked it between her knees, then she went to work removing the rope from her wrist. Once that was done, she moved around the trunk until she got situated, wrench in hand, just waiting for her chance.

  The car drove for several more miles, and it seemed like the driver was hitting every bump and dip on purpose, trying his best to injure her in the trunk. He was laughing, but she didn’t hear anyone else responding to him.

  Was she wrong about there being a second person in the car with the man? Would they really send her with only one man?

  Obviously, she was being taken somewhere where he would have help. Or he was arrogant and thought that he could handle her alone simply because she was a woman. It didn’t matter, because she was preparing for both scenarios and hoping that the man was alone.

  She didn’t even try to keep track of the turns or strain through the music to hear the sounds of the street outside the car. It wouldn’t mean anything to her, and it wouldn’t help. Her focus now was escaping. Once she got away, she would worry about where she was.

  The driver slowed, pulling to a stop and killing the engine. Kelissa was alert, listening to the man’s footsteps when he got out, and noting that there was no other noise from the car. The man was alone, and he was about to get the surprise of his life.

  Kelissa braced herself, laying on her back, knees bent and ready, wrench in her left hand. The man was still singing the song that had been playing on the radio when he opened the trunk and Kelissa kicked him, double-barrel, right in the face.

  Something crunched and the man screamed in agony, blood gushing from his nose as he fell to his knees and began retching from the pain. She leaned over the edge of the trunk and swung hard, catching the side of his head with the wrench, cutting off his agonized wailing, and knocking the man out cold.

  She climbed out of the trunk and closed it, picking up the keys that had fallen out of his hands and jumping into the driver’s seat.

  She flipped the car around and put the gas pedal to the floor, heading back the way they had come. Hopefully, the road would lead to a city street and she would find her way north and out of Mexico. She didn’t have her ID with her, but she would deal with the border agents when she got there.

  The sound of automatic fire pushed her into gear, but she was already so far away that the bullets bounced off the rear bumper or lodged in the trunk and stopped. A look in the rearview mirror showed that the men were scrambling to get into vehicles, but in the rush to join the chase, they were struggling to back out of where they’d parked in an organized manner. If her life wasn’t in danger, the bumper car impression some of them were doing while trying to be the first into the chase would have been funny. But there was already one truck on her trail and gaining fast, and it was only a matter of time before the rest of them were in pursuit.

  There was a fork in the road at the end of the long dirt road she flew down, but no sign to help her decide. She looked left, then right, then went with the road to the right. She saw lights in the distance there.

  She was rewarded with a string of bright lights a few minutes later, the large city so close that she could almost hear the hustle and bustle of Tijuana, the only place between her and freedom across the border.

  The car jolted, and metal squealed, slamming her head against the back of her chair. The truck had caught up, and he was ramming her car. She pushed the little car harder, trying to widen the gap between them, but the truck slammed into her again, causing the smaller car to fishtail. They were almost to the city, she was almost free. But one more hit from the truck was all it took, and suddenly the car flipped and rolled, and she didn’t know which way was up and which way was down. She was flying through the air at a frightening speed, and she wasn’t sure she was going to survive when she finally hit the ground.

  Chapter9

  David pulled himself up off the floor, shaking his head and watching in confusion as glass fell from his hair. He looked around the kitchen of the beach house, then all of a sudden, it all came flooding back. The blitz attack, Kelissa’s muffled screams as the darkness flooded around him. Somehow, Salv
ador’s men had gotten into his house and now they had Kelissa.

  He rolled onto his side slowly, head spinning and a metallic taste in his mouth. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his phone and dialed Aaron’s number. His friend answered on the first ring, sounding wide awake even though David knew that he went to sleep by nine every night.

  “They have her,” David said.

  “From where?”

  “The beach house. They broke in and knocked me out.”

  “Impossible,” Aaron muttered, but he wasn’t questioning David’s account.

  He was angry.

  “Where are you, David?”

  “Beach house, on the floor. I think I need stitches.”

  “I have a guy for that. We don’t have time. How long since they took her?”

  “We got home a little after midnight.”

  “It’s almost two now. They don’t have much of a head start.”

  “Almost two hours. That’s long enough for something bad to happen.”

  “I’m getting in the car right now. We’re going to find her, and we’re going to figure out how they got past the security system. I’ll be there in five minutes and I’ll have some of my guys meet us. Hang tight.”

  “Alright,” David said, hanging up the phone and going to the freezer.

  He put together an ice pack and held it to his head, then made his way through the house looking for Kelissa, even though he knew she wasn’t there. Still, he hoped she’d made her way to the panic room and managed to close the door before they got to her.

  Calling out to every deity known to man, he carefully walked up the stairs, pushing the dizziness away as best as he could. The closer he got to the top of the stairs, the more he wondered about the smell that Kelissa had been talking about. Originally, he’d thought it was a beached animal down the way. It happened from time to time. But now that he was almost in the master bedroom, he had a sinking feeling that he knew exactly where the faint odor had come from.