Page 44 of Hit and Run
I look to TJ and he nods his head. I follow the man upstairs. He takes me to a set of French doors. He opens the doors and walks in. I freeze in the doorway. This has to be the master bedroom. It’s huge. The man gets half-way into the room when he stops and turns to me.
“Come in. Close the doors behind you.” His accent is thick. His voice alone is intimidating. I do as he says and walk in, closing the doors behind me, but not walking away from them. He sits on the edge of the bed, studying me. His stare sends chills up my spine. “Do you know who I am?”
“No.” I shake my head. An evil grin spreads across his face.
“I am Miguel Torres,” he tells me like that’s supposed to mean something to me. “I’mel Jefe, the boss, of the Cartel.”
“And what does the boss of theCartelwant with me?”
“It seems as ifmi hijohas a bit of an obsession with you. Which poses a problem. He should be focused on our family business, but instead, he’s focused on you. It’s making him weak,” Torres spits out. “On top of that, you’re linked to that fucking club. What my son would want with apincheclubwhore is beyond me.”
I shift on my feet. I don’t know what he plans on doing with me, but at this point, it can’t be anything good.
“Come here. Let me see what I have to work with,” he orders. I hesitate but listen. I stop about two feet away from him, hoping that it’s close enough. “Take your clothes off.”
With shaky hands, I remove my shirt. I’m by no means self-conscious, but this man makes me feel disgusting on top of being scared out of my mind with the looks he’s giving me. Once I take my pants off, he twirls his finger in a circle, asking me to turn around. I do what he wants. Out of the corner of my eye, I see him stand and come closer to me. When I face him, he traces a finger from the side of my neck, over my boobs and down my stomach, stopping at the hem of my panties.
“You aremuyhermosa.” He moves so he’s standing behind me. His finger doesn’t leave my skin. I hold my head high. “Perky breasts, a firm ass. I could get a lot of money for you.”
My heart leaps into my throat. Money for me? Does he mean . . . ?
Knock knock!
“Que?” he shouts, irritated that he’s being interrupted. The door opens and a man starts talking to Torres in Spanish.
“Hijo de puta,” Torres shouts, startling me when the other man is done talking. “Put your fucking clothes on. We need to leave.”
I throw my clothes back on and follow him out of the room. He lets me go into my room to grab shoes, then we head downstairs to the kitchen. TJ is sitting in the same spot he was when we went upstairs.
“TJ, we’re leaving. Now,” Torres tells him.
“What? Why,” TJ asks.
“There’s no time for all your fucking questions. Let’s go.” Torres grabs my arm and drags me out of the house. There are two black SUVs with blacked-out windows waiting. Torres says something in Spanish to one of his guards before we walk to the first SUV and climb in. I watch out the window as TJ gets ushered to the second SUV.
“Why isn’t TJ coming with us,” I ask Torres.
“He is going somewhere different than us,” he states.
A sense of unease washes over me as the SUV starts moving. We drive through miles and miles of desert. We come to the Mexican border and cross over with no issues. I’m sure Torres has people paid off so he can come and go as he pleases. The second SUV is nowhere in sight. I can’t help but wonder where TJ was taken. He didn’t make me feel near as uncomfortable as his father does.
After driving for a few hours, we pull up to a building that looks like a small, old, rundown apartment building. There are bars on the windows which makes me think this isn’t a good area. It looks like a pretty deserted place. The two guards get out of the SUV before Torres and I. One walks to each of our doors. The one at my door grabs my upper arm and drags me inside. He takes me up a flight of stairs and down a hall. We come to a stop in front of a door with multiple locks on the outside. All but one is currently unlocked. The guard takes a set of keys out of his pocket and unlocks the last one.
“Puta,” he says as he shoves me into the room. He pushed me so hard I fall to the floor. He slams the door closed and I hear four locks being locked. I glance around the room. There’s a twin size mattress on the floor, a side table with a small lamp, and another door. I scramble off the floor and grab the door handle. I let my head fall when I see it’s just a bathroom.
I walk to the mattress and sit. It’s worn down and disgusting, but it’s better than the wood floor. It’s time I start thinking of a plan.
There are footsteps coming down the hallway. They stop before getting to my room. A door opens and a girl starts screaming. There’s some shouting in Spanish and the screaming stops abruptly. After a minute or two of silence, the footsteps are back but descending.
I’ve heard stories about the Cartel being involved with human trafficking. This place must be where they keep girls before selling them off. I can only imagine what goes on here. I’m sure I won’t have to wait long to find out first hand.
27
Shade
We makeit to San Antonio in record time. We find an abandoned warehouse parking lot to pull over in. I climb out of Buster’s car and walk to the bikes. Bull is away from the group with his phone to his ear.
“He’s checking in with his contact,” Ranger tells me. “How are you holding up?”
