Page 8 of Born into Darkness

“Of course, just lean on me. I’ll help you out.”

It never occurs to me to not trust her. I’m too busy being grateful for her help, but when we leave the bathroom and I see a man waiting for us, dread and fear replace the queasy feeling that I’d just been experiencing. A set of hard, dark brown eyes meet mine before my legs start to give out.

“What’s going on?” I ask, barely recognizing the sound of my own voice. I sound drunk, like I’ve had several drinks instead of the two sips I’ve had.

The man ignores me and instead pulls a blonde wig over my head, roughly tucking away the loose dark strands that still stick out, and then he grabs my arm and slips it through the sleeve of a dark jacket while the waitress helps with my other arm. A heaviness takes over my limbs, but before I can collapse to the floor, he reaches out and wraps an arm around my waist, holding me up and tightly against him while he hands the waitress a sizable wad of cash. She takes it, walking off without a backward glance, and all I can do is let out a soft moan of protest as my vision blurs.

He doesn’t waste any time. Ignoring my moans, he turns us to the back exit and opens the door. I squint at the bright sun, disoriented and barely conscious, and it’s only his tight grip on my waist that’s keeping me upright. My head rests against his chest, and when we’re halfway down the dock, he stops and presses me up against the wooden railing. Cupping the back of my head, he leans in close, bringing his mouth to my ear. Anyone watching would assume this is a lover’s embrace, just a couple going for a walk on the dock who had to stop for a quick kiss.

“If you fight me, I’ll kill you, and then I’ll go back inside and shoot your entire family. Your mom, your aunts, your cousins—all of them.” The words are harsh, the accent is unfamiliar, and the tone makes it clear he isn’t making an idle threat.

I hear footsteps approaching, and when I try to scream and only a moan comes out, the man gives a carefree laugh and lets out a deep moan of his own while he kisses a line up my neck. I want to push him off me, to scream for help and knock him into the water, but whatever they drugged me with is fully in my system, and I’m completely at his mercy. It’s a terrifying thought, but when the footsteps fade away, the man quickly stops. Turning his head to make sure it’s clear, he grabs onto me, but this time he doesn’t bother trying to get me to walk, he just picks me up and gives another carefree laugh for anyone who’s watching and carries me to the end of the dock where a large boat is waiting.

As soon as he steps onto it, he carries me below, and a fear unlike anything I’ve ever known washes over me. There must be someone else on here with us because I hear the engine start right before I feel the boat move. I try to scream again, but he just laughs and tosses me onto a bed. I’m terrified he’s going to undress me, but he doesn’t. He reaches into my back pocket and grabs my phone and then quickly pats down the rest of my body, making sure I don’t have anything else on me. I give another protesting moan, but he ignores me. Shouting in another language, he walks to the stairs he’d just carried me down and tosses my phone up to someone. That was the only link I had to my family, and watching it disappear is horrifying. I’m truly and utterly alone, trapped on a boat with men I don’t know who are going to take me god knows where, and no one knows I’ve even been taken yet.

When the man walks back over to me, I can barely keep my eyes open The drugs are pulling me under, and the last thing I see is the cruel grin he’s giving me before everything turns black.

I don’t know how long I’m out, but when I wake, the first thing I notice is a sharp, pounding headache and a very strong need to vomit. Nausea hits me hard and it has me quickly rolling over in case I get sick. I’m surrounded in darkness and the concrete floor digs into my knees and hands as I cough and dry heave, but nothing comes up. My throat hurts, and my mouth is so parched I can barely swallow. Terror fills every part of my mind, and I quickly run a hand over my body, letting out a relieved sigh when I feel that my jeans are still zipped up and I’m still wearing my sweatshirt. Aside from my pounding head, my body doesn’t feel like it’s been used without my permission.

When I hear a door open, my first instinct is to scurry away from the sound. I have no idea where I’m headed or what might be waiting for me, but staying still isn’t an option. When the light comes on, I wince and shut my eyes, bringing my hands up to protect me from it, but the damage is done. Those few seconds brought my headache from awful to full-on migraine.

“I’m glad to see you’re awake, Talia.”

The man has the same accent as the guy who’d kidnapped me, and there’s nothing about his voice that seems familiar. It’s obvious he knows me, though, or at least he’s done enough homework to use the nickname my family uses. Everyone else calls me Natalia.

“What do you want?” I whisper the words through my dry, scratchy throat, desperate for a drink of water. As if he can sense my need, I hear his footsteps come closer before I feel a bottle of water tapping gently against my hand. I’m still cupping my head with my eyes closed, but I risk squinting up at him, wanting to see who it is that’s holding me captive. He’s tall, dark hair, dark eyes, and brown skin. The suit he’s wearing is impeccable, and the light stubble he has on his face just accentuates the sharp jaw. In any other circumstance, I’d say he was attractive, but right now he’s giving me a hard look and scaring the hell out of me, so all I’m seeing is a monster. I still take the water he offers because I’m not stupid. I need to keep myself alive long enough for my family to find me. They must be worried sick by now.

Unscrewing the cap, I take a big drink and then ask again, “What do you want, and who are you?”

“My name is Mateo Amaya, and my family runs a cartel. Your family was offered a deal.” He raises a dark brow at me. “A deal they should’ve said yes to.”

I take another drink while I buy myself some time. Looking around at the dungeon-like room I’m sitting in, I quickly decide that trying to fight my way out of here isn’t an option. He’s way bigger than me, no doubt armed and skilled at fighting, and I’m still so weak I can barely sit up. Instead of wasting my energy on a useless escape attempt, I ask, “And you thought this would make my dad more compliant?” I can’t help but let out a harsh laugh. “You clearly don’t know my family.” I look up at him, trying to reason my way out of this. “You have to know that he’s going to kill you for this.”

Mateo seems unfazed by my comment. He shrugs his broad shoulders and says, “Your dad loves you, and he’ll do anything to keep you safe. He’ll agree to our deal because he knows what will happen to you if he doesn’t.”

“What will happen to me?” I can’t help but ask.

He’s quiet for a second before he says, “Let’s hope for your sake it doesn’t come to that.”

It doesn’t escape my notice that he didn’t actually answer my question, and I take that as a very bad sign. Death is easy to threaten, and he could’ve easily given me that one-word answer, but the fact that he didn’t means that what will be waiting for me will be far, far worse. A shiver of pure fear runs down my spine before I finish the rest of the bottle and look back up at him.

“What now? Can I talk to them? Maybe I can convince them to do what you want?”

His full mouth lifts up in a slight smirk. “We don’t need your help negotiating. The photos we took while you were passed out will be incentive enough.”

My heart breaks at the thought of my family seeing those photos. My dad and brothers will be livid, and my mom will be gutted. Even though I don’t hold out any hope of Mateo actually telling me the truth, I can’t help but ask, “What are you going to do to me?”

He squats down so he’s no longer towering over me. His dark eyes meet mine, and I’m not expecting pity, so I’m not disappointed when I don’t find any. I am grateful to at least not see any sort of rage or depravity in them. At this point, I’ll take any good I can get. He may be a kidnapping cartel man, but I don’t think he’s a rapist.

“I’m not going to do anything to you, Talia. I don’t hurt defenseless women. Unfortunately for you, my men don’t have such qualms. We’re holding you until your dad agrees to our terms. If he doesn’t agree, we’ll have no choice but to force his hand.”

I refuse to cry in front of Mateo, so I keep my mouth clamped shut, forcing the tears to not spill from my eyes. He sees the inner fight I’m having, noticing the way I lift my face to his while I try like hell to appear brave. We both know I’m not fooling anyone, least of all myself, but I swear I see a glint of respect in his dark eyes at my attempt.

“Hang onto that fire, Talia. It’ll help you get through this.”

He doesn’t wait for me to answer, just stands back up and walks out of the room, leaving me alone, but this time he keeps the light on. I lean against the concrete wall and finally give in to the tears.

After I’ve cried myself out, I take a deep, shaky breath and force myself to get my shit together. I’m not bound, and they’ve left me alone. I don’t know how much time I have, but I know I need to do something. I can’t just sit on my ass and feel sorry for myself. Getting up, I brace my hand against the wall, waiting for another wave of nausea to pass. My legs still feel shaky and weak, but I force them to move. The room I’m in is like an unfinished cement basement or cellar, the kind of place I’d never want to step foot in because it’s creepy and instantly makes me think of all the horror movies I’ve seen over the years.

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