Page 74 of Saving Blood

“Shit, you mean you got your?—”

“Unfortunately, nature doesn’t wait for the right time.” I rub my hand over my stomach. “I have to do some things to get rid of the cramps, and it might?—”

“All right, all right.” Diesel throws up his palm. “I don’t need the fuckin’ details . . . Bolt will stay outside the locker room door.”

I smile sweetly at him, amazed at how this block of cement crumbles at the mere thought of a woman’s period.

Diesel opens the office door, whispers something to Bolt, who also grimaces, then we walk to the women’s locker room in silence.

Men. Freak them out with the workings of a woman’s body. Works every time.

Once inside the locker room, I dash to the back door. My plan is to find Blood and hopefully Hector. I overheard Blood talking to Diesel earlier about their plans for Hector, and I just hope I’m not too late. I stay close to the brick wall, round the corner of the building and see a truck parked in the alley between the gym and the garage.

I skim the wall and stay on the other side of the truck, shielded by the height and width of the huge vehicle. It barely fits in the narrow alleyway, making it easy for me to squeeze around to the back end of the truck unnoticed.

I hear Smoke’s voice. “Shut him the fuck up.”

Skin hitting skin, then somebody thrown into the back seat of the truck. Doors slam, open and slam again. When the motor rumbles to life, I grab hold of the tailgate of the truck, step on the bumper and hoist myself into the flatbed. I lie perfectly still in the dark, praying they didn’t see or hear me.

The truck accelerates out of the alley and rounds the backside of the gym. When we’re about one hundred yards away from the building, I peek over the top of the flatbed in time to see Diesel and Bolt crash through the back door of the gym. I hold my breath, but the truck keeps moving forward onto the main road.

30

BLOOD

“After a little drive out to the desert, Hector Rodriquez will be a distant memory.” Smoke taps his fingers against the steering wheel then reaches for the cigs on the dashboard. He pulls one out with his teeth, then offers the pack to me. “In a way, we’re doin’ Mexico a favor, getting rid of these cartel bastards.”

I push in the lighter on the dashboard, and when it pops out, I touch the tip of my cig, then hand the lighter to Smoke.

“Hmmm.” My brain’s stuck on Hector’s last words before I laid him out.

“What’s with you?” Smoke turns to me. “I thought you’d be planning a victory party.”

“Nothing.”

“Don’t let that fucker get in your head. He was just spitting bullshit to mess with you.”

I look through the plexiglass into the back seat where Hector is still unconscious. “Maxine told me some of her backstory, but . . .”

“If all the shit you told me is true, Maxine waded through her past and managed to come out on the other side. Not fuckin’ easy to do on her own.”

“I know, but I’ve suspected there’s more to her story, way more, and him sayin’ shit put me on edge.”

“Just don’t go over the edge.” Smoke shoots me a look. “Not until we get this job done.”

MAXINE

I lie against the metal flatbed of the truck as it rumbles along the road, staring into the dark night. Once we are out of the city, the jet-black sky opens up with a sparkling array of twinkling stars. Some clustered together, others spaced wide apart, forming odd angles and designs. I’d never noticed how beautiful the Mexican sky glowed after dark, but from now on, I’d be enjoying the little things in life. The things most people take for granted.

My mind drifts to my childhood in Oklahoma and the horror of my parents’ rule and repression. Over the years, I’ve made excuses for their abhorrent behavior, but no matter how hard I tried, there was no way to justify such cruelty to a child—their only child.

For years, I blamed myself for what happened to Tiffany, but I now believe we were just at the wrong place at the wrong time. I suffered the guilt of me surviving and her dying, but I’ve reasoned cruel fate intervened, resulting in her death and my abduction—nothing more.

Now, finally, the nightmare would cease. I had no illusions about how this ride would end for Hector, and although I know murder is wrong, I wouldn’t do anything to stop it. I would love to pull the trigger myself, but I’d be satisfied with watching and confirming with my own eyes the monster’s demise.

The truck slows, makes a right turn, then continues on a bumpy road, so I flip onto my stomach to keep from bouncing against the metal flatbed. Smoke maneuvers over rougher terrain, and we drive for another few minutes.

I rise up an inch at a time, clearing the window separating the back seat from the flatbed where Hector lies sprawled out in the seat unconscious. I rise a few inches higher and look into the front seat. Blood and Smoke are talking, but of course, I can’t hear them. Then Blood shifts in his seat, pulls out his phone and swipes at it. Three seconds later, he slams his hand on the dashboard.

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