Page 45 of Extraction

“Lucky me.” I grabbed my bag, purse, and dress and followed them out the door.

Exiting the hotel was even scarier than when we arrived. Maybe because I kept thinking I was seeing Mr. Melty Face. I tried to convince myself he might not even be alive.

I don’t remember much of the drive, as I was dead tired and wired at the same time. Everything seemed to morph into a blur inside my head. I was in the front per Cole’s request, and Paul drove. The rest of the guys were passed out in the back. At one point, I turned to say something to Paul but changed my mind. I was good with people. It was what made me good at my job, but Paul seemed to dislike me being around, and I wasn’t sure why.

Bruno popped into my thoughts, and the memories from the first time I met him pricked away at the door I kept under lock and key in my head. I’d been about two years into my job when I had caught his attention, and it was a time I’d like to forget.

I pulled my legs up on the seat of the van and curled into a ball and tried to sleep, but with the sleep came the nightmare. Stop. Stop. Stop. My muscles clenched as I instantly came awake, and I pressed my head into my kneecaps in fear I’d yell out. Ben had warned me the nightmares would get worse if I didn’t deal with my trauma, but I thought I had them under control, until now.

“Have you ever been to Holbox?” Paul asked just above a whisper, careful not to wake the others.

“No.” I tried to use his distraction to bring myself down, but it wasn’t easy. “I mostly worked Oaxaca, Guerrero, and Chiapas. I occasionally jumped the border into El Salvador.”

“Never mid- or northern Mexico?”

Again, the memories made their way to the surface and smothered my sanity, testing its limits. “Do you have any family in the States?” I asked him, and he glanced at me. I knew he hadn’t missed my change in subject.

His hand flexed on the steering wheel, and I wondered if I’d hit a nerve. “No.”

I quickly asked a different question. “What made you want to join Blackstone?”

“To make a difference. Why did you become a war correspondent?”

“To make a difference,” I repeated.

His lips finally broke into a smile, and I liked how his face looked when he did. “Fair.” He thought for a moment. “Do you have any family back in the States?”

I turned to look out the window and thought about how that question made me feel empty and hollow inside.

“I did,” I confessed, “but I don’t anymore.”

“Sorry,” he muttered.

“Sorry would mean someone loved me enough for me to miss them.” My mouth moved before my brain could stop it. “I think I’m destined to be alone.”

His hand tightened on the wheel again. “Now, that’s something I understand.”

“At least you have them.” I nodded over my shoulder. “All I have is a plant that might or might not be alive. He’s living with my doorman.” Tears prickled my eyes, and I realized how much I missed having someone, anyone. “How sad is that?”

“I killed a succulent once,” he remarked, and I laughed but quickly covered my mouth so as not to wake anyone. I dropped my feet to the floor and sighed as I dried my cheeks. “What about Ben Bale?”

“Ben? He’s a good friend, but we see the world too differently to ever have any kind of relationship, if that’s what you mean.” I thought about Ben. “He’s a great guy and the best at getting pictures that show all the ugly truths, but they only scratch the surface. I want to dig deep and report the stories with all the details.”

“You two have worked together for a long time, then?”

“Long enough.” I didn’t elaborate. I blew out a puff of air as I remembered how he was when I was released from Bruno the first time. He’d been there for me, but he made sure I knew how disappointed he was at the risks I took to get a story. He hated how I had gained the trust of men like Sully Sanchez. Little did he know the real truth…I lived my life on the edge because I had nothing to lose.

“When you work with someone long enough, they become family,” he said.

“I have a story that’s going to change the way things are here in Mexico. I’m just waiting for the day I can lay out all the facts and take down a tier of my own.” I didn’t know why I’d just dropped that little bombshell, but he took it in stride.

“Well, we’re on a drive. Why don’t you tell me about it, and maybe we can help.”

I let a smile form on my lips as I sorted through my tangled thoughts. “No, this story is something I have to do on my own.” He didn’t push, and I liked that about him. Instead, we sat in silence and watched the moon ride along with us.

A while later, Paul pulled up to a set of gates, said something I couldn’t hear, and waited for them to open. We drove down a tiny street that was only large enough for one car, and after a few turns, my jaw dropped at the sight. A sign read Aguas Brillantes. Roughly translated, it meant Shining Waters. The ocean looked black against the moonlight that seemed to dance among the waves. They made a peaceful sound as they lapped at the shoreline.

“What is this place? It’s so beautiful.”

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