Page 34 of Tell Me No
I survey the room while he’s distracted, barking orders in Spanish to his men. There’s a steel table pushed against one wall, only about 3 feet away from me, and I spot my black sequin clutch lying unopened. Sending a silent prayer of thanks to whatever angels or demons are watching over me.
I shift against my restraints, testing how much play the zip ties around my wrists will give me. The sharp edges of the plastic cut into my skin and I wince. How the hell did I end up in this situation? I promised myself I would never be a victim to another man again, yet here I am. This one's on me. I shouldn’t have separated from the girls, shouldn’t have left myself vulnerable to falling into this trap.
“Watch her. They should be landing within the hour. Then the fun will really begin, hermosa.” He shoots me a sinister smile before ducking out the back door.
His henchman stares at me from where he leans against the wall, a disgusting sneer twisting his lips as his eyes trail up my bare legs. I silently curse Jason for making me wear this fucking dress. I twist my wrists against my binds, itching to pull the fabric down and cover myself.
“Don’t struggle, perra. You’ll only bleed and I’ll have to pay for it,” he snaps, and I jerk harder against my restraints. If I’m gonna die here, I’m taking as many of these bastards with me as I can.
“You’ll pay. No matter what happens, you’ll pay.” I spit blood onto the concrete in front of him and he hisses back at me.
“Then maybe I should make it worth my fucking time, huh?” Stalking over to where I’m bound, he pulls a knife from his back pocket and flicks it open.
Slicing through the plastic restraints with ease, his fingers dig into my scalp as he grips my hair tightly. I feel the strands rip by the roots, the burn bringing tears to my eyes. I’ve always been one to poke the bear, never knowing when to quit before pushing things too far. As much as I wanted him to release me, fear floods my veins at the thought of what comes next.
Dragging me up out of the chair, I fight with everything I’ve got, kicking and scratching anything I can get my hands on. He throws my body to the concrete floor, the rough surface scraping the top layer of my skin away and drawing blood at my knees. I scramble backwards, putting as much space between us as I can, but he stalks forward.
“Think you have somewhere to run? There’s nowhere you can go, girl.” He grips my arms roughly, his fingers digging in so severely his fingerprints could be etched into my skin.
He picks me up like I weigh nothing, throwing me on my back on top of the table like a rag-doll. I try to flip over, desperate to drag my body towards my clutch at the other end. His hands close around my ankles, pulling me back towards him. Memories of my past flood my mind and I try to block them out. I need to have a clear mind above anything else right now. Between the sound of my struggle and the blood rushing in my ears, I can’t hear anything else. I cling to my control, knowing I can’t let this be the end of me. In my mind, I hear Jason’s voice louder than any of the chaos surrounding me.
Turn your pain into power
I feel the deep timber of his voice all the way into my bones. Gathering all the strength I can, I bend my knee, kicking back at my attacker’s face with all I’ve got in me. Blood sprays from his nose instantly and he stumbles backwards, giving me time to reach my bag. In seconds, I have the dagger in my hand, just in time for the man to pull me back down the table again.
“You’re gonna die for that, bitch!” He howls, but this time I’m ready for him. I turn just in time to drive the dagger into the soft space between his neck and shoulder. Twisting the blade, blood pours freely from the wound as surprise registers across his face only moments before the light fades from his eyes. I aimed for the carotid artery and nailed my target. As the man slumps down onto the floor, pride sweeps in my chest.
Holy fuck, I just did that. I just killed a man. I justsavedmyself. Jason’s been telling me all along that I had the power to save myself. For once, I actually believe him.
I pull myself to my feet on shaky legs, adrenaline and fear finally beginning to settle into my muscles. My hands shake violently as I reach to pull the dagger from the man’s neck. Blood coats my hands, but I don’t have time to panic. My captor will be back soon, so I have to find a way out quickly. I don’t have to second guess or wonder. I know Jason is coming for me. But whether he knows he’s walking in to a trap or not is the bigger question.
I press my ear to the door, listening for any sign of life on the other side. After several seconds of silence, I turn the knob, pushing the door open slowly and peaking around the other side. The door opens into a bigger bay with an open garage door at the end. There are pallets of large shipping boxes wrapped in plastic near my only exit. Kicking out of my heels, I run across the large space, hoping the soft patter of my bare feet on concrete doesn’t alert anyone. Dropping to the floor behind the boxes, I clutch the dagger so tightly in my hand that I’m sure the words engraved on it will be imprinted on my palm forever.
Boots scuffle against the gravel outside and I hold my breath, praying to whoever will listen to keep me hidden here until I can slip out the door. I hear shouting in Spanish as the man they call the boss comes running into the warehouse, barking orders as he goes. I never took Spanish, but I’m beginning to think they found the body I left behind.
“Spread out! Find her!” He shouts, but before anyone gets far, gunshots ring out through the air. I hear shouting back and forth from every direction. Curling myself into the tightest ball I possibly can, I clench the dagger in my hand, ready to strike should I need to.
Bodies hit the floor in front of me and the boss makes a run for the exit, pushing his men in front of him as human shields. Somewhere in the pandemonium, I hear familiar voices shouting somewhere in the distance.
“I think Figueroa took off out the side door! Two down over here. Eli, what’s your status?” a voice I’m almost certain belongs to Everett calls out. I want to stand and call out to him, but I don’t know who else could be around.
I try to peer over the top of the boxes in front of me, but suddenly the cold flash of steel presses against my temple. Figueroa’s breath fans across the shell of my ear as he pulls my back against his front, pushing me forward and revealing our hiding place.
“You want the bitch? Come and fucking get her!” We walk into the open, Figueroa using my body to protect him from the three M4s that swing our direction. My eyes bounce over the faces of men I recognize, even with the black paint smeared across their faces. Elijah, Everett, and Iris keep their guns trained on us as Figueroa baits them. My gaze darts around the room, desperate to find Jason.
“It’s over, Figueroa. Your men are dead. Let her go and maybe you’ll leave here in a body bag and not a bucket,” Iris shouts and Figueroa hisses in my ear.
“You know who I am? You will never get away with this, motherfuckers! I will make your children suffer the consequences after I slit your fucking throats,” he spits back at them, barking threats as if he has any chance of getting out of here alive.
“Let her fucking go! There’s no getting out of here alive, you son of a bitch!” Elijah roars back at him, fury blazing in his eyes.
“Oh, a tough guy, huh?! Make m-” Figueroa raises the hand holding the gun against my head for only a moment and a shot rings out. Glass shatters behind me and warmth sprays across my face. Figueroa’s body goes limp, dropping to the floor in a crumpled heap. Reaching my hand up to touch my face, I pull my palm away and it’s stained red. I look down at the man who held me captive only a moment ago, blood flooding the floor around his head. Somewhere in the background, I hear a shrill scream and bile rises in my throat when I realize it’s coming from me. The ringing in my ears is so intense, I can’t even process Elijah talking to me, and he’s standing right in front of my face.
Is this what it feels like to be in shock? Nausea roils in my gut as I claw my hands across my face, wanting to scrub the evidence of today’s events from my mind and body. Iris and Elijah both try to get my attention, but I can’t focus on them, can’t hear anything they’re saying to me. Black spots dance in my vision. On the edge of hyperventilation, the world around me spins. I can see the men’s mouth’s moving, but everything is muffled, as if my head is underwater.
Somewhere in the distance, a familiar towering figure walks my direction. I cross my fingers, hoping it’s really him because he’s the only thing that could bring me back to earth at this moment. He doesn’t spare a second before taking my face in his rough hands, the feeling grounding me just when I feel like I’m slipping away.
“Come back to me, baby,” Jason’s voice breaks through the fog in my mind, and the world around me snaps back into place. A sob rips from my throat as I fall into him, knowing he’ll catch me.
