Fistful of Benjamins

by Kiki Swinson

  “See you in the morning,” he says, sliding his card key into the lock.

  “Night.” I enter my room and quickly close the door.

  I wait a full minute and then head straight for the phone. So far, so good. I dig through my jeans pocket and retrieve the reward leaflet that I lifted from Angel. “Twenty-five million dollars,” I whisper. With this kind of money, I can settle all of Emilio’s debts and live the rest of my life without worrying about money.

  I glance at the number printed at the bottom and weigh my options. After another minute, I pick up the phone and dial.

  CHAPTER 23

  THE LOVER

  I shut off the shower and step out into a stream-filled bathroom. Though I’m more relaxed, my body still aches from the number of body blows that Salazar dude dealt me.

  “Where is Cataleyna?” Salazar’s repeated question loops in my head.

  Who?

  Help! Julian! Help!

  The woman in red flashes in my head again.

  I grab the hotel robe from the back of the bathroom door and march out into the room. From my duffel bag, I pull out the woman’s picture I lifted off Salazar. The woman isn’t dolled up like the image in my head. She’s still gorgeous with minimal makeup and her hair billowing in the wind. She looks like the kind of girl that a man could take home to meet the parents. The kind of woman a man would love to make beautiful babies with. I smile, liking that idea. Before long I’m running my finger along the side of her face in the photograph. This woman meant something to me. She’s important. A wife? A girlfriend? A lover?

  Guilt crushes me. How can I not remember her? I lay down, staring at the photo. At least now it makes sense why I’ve never been able to feel anything for Malena. My heart belongs to someone else.

  “Where are you?” I whisper, but as soon as I ask the question, I sense that something horrible has happened to her.

  I need a drink. Badly.

  I abandon sleep and get dressed. With any luck the hotel bar is still open. In the hallway, I stop in front of Amalia’s room. Maybe I should invite her down. After a few knocks and no answer, I assume that she’s crashed for the night.

  It’s 3:00 a.m. and the bar is still open. I count six patrons spread out in the place as I walk up to the main bar. A grinning bartender with a brass nametag that reads Jimmy approaches as soon as my ass lands on the stool. “Ahh. Welcome back! I wondered what happened to you!” He frowns. “What happened to you? Did you get into a fight with a burning Mack truck?”

  I blink. “I know you?”

  The bartender laughs. “Who can forget Tony Montana?”

  My smile withers. “Montana?”

  “Hey. I don’t ask too many questions. I just try to remember all the good tippers.”

  “I need a drink.”

  “Your usual?”

  I have a usual? “Sure. Why not?”

  “One Manhattan coming up.”

  “Thanks,” I say, once the drink is delivered. One sip and a warm familiarity washes over me.

  “Good?” Jimmy asks, puffing out his chest.

  “Perfect.” I sit the glass down. “Mind if I ask you a few questions?”

  “Sure. Shoot.”

  “How often would you say that I used to come in here?”

  “Well . . . it’s been a while . . .” He seems to start counting in his head. “I’d say it’s been what—nine, ten months?”

  I have no idea. “Something like that. And how often would you say I’d come here?”

  The bartender slaps his drying towel over his shoulder. “It’s hard to say—I only worked part-time back then, but if I had to put money on it, I’d say you came around here maybe twice a week. Why?”

  I sigh. The last thing I want to do is rehash my memory problem. “It’s a long story.”

  “Aren’t they all?” He laughs.

  I drain my drink. “Hit me again.”

  “You got it.”

  When Jimmy disappears again, I wonder how I can get more information from the guy without seeming like some wacko.

  My second drink is delivered.

  “Bottoms up,” Jimmy grins.

  “Thanks.”

  “Mind if I ask you a question?” Jimmy asks.

  Oh, great. “All right.”

  “How did it go with you and the girl?” he asks, grinning.

  My heart stops. “The girl?”

  “The last time you were here you were . . . juiced, if you don’t mind me saying so, and were going on and on about some woman that you couldn’t get out of your system. Said that you were ready to make your move. I figured that you were finally about to pop the question.”

  I was going to ask her to marry me. I smile.

  “Ahh. It went that well, huh?” The bartender knocks on the counter. “Tell you what, the next drink is on the house.”

  “Thanks.” At least I have another piece of the puzzle. I remove the picture from my front pocket and stare at it.

  Fiancée? For some reason that feels right.

  “Is that the lucky woman?” Jimmy asks, peering down. “May I?”

  Proud of the beauty’s identity, I hand over the picture. The bartender shocks me again.

  “Wait. I know her.” Jimmy looks up at me. “Cataleyna Rosales is your fiancée?”

  CHAPTER 24

  THE PRINCESS

  I’m losing my mind. I want my baby. What kind of monsters would snatch an innocent baby from its mother? I’ve done everything that they’ve asked. Why won’t they let me and my baby go?

  It’s never going to happen. They are never going to let me leave.

  After days of crying my eyes out, I’ve reached my limit.

  There’s no point in my carrying on. I don’t want to live. I’ve stopped eating, but death is too slow. A year ago, I thought my father had isolated and sheltered me. Now I truly know what it’s like to be a prisoner.

  Tears swell and roll down my face. Disgusted, I swipe them away. I’m fucking tired of crying. I’m supposed to be tougher than this. I’m Cataleyna Rosales—a cartel princess. I’m supposed to be fearless. My father would be ashamed if he saw how easily our enemies had broken me.

  And I am broken.

  I finish mopping my eyes and realize that I have to win back my power. After all, I’m the master of my fate. I’m in control of what happens next.

  I peer up at the full moon. It’s a peaceful night. The stillness calls and seduces me. In death, there’ll be no more pain. There will be no more tears. More importantly, I’ll reunite with Julian. He’s waiting for me. I’m convinced of it.

  Minutes later, I dry my tears, walk from the chair by the locked window and into the adjoining bathroom where I fill the tub with hot water. On the ledge is ajar of jasmine bath beads that had been a gift from my abductors. I’ve been given a lot of gifts for reasons I fail to understand. They are probably from Carlos, even though he has yet to show his face. Tomas does all of the dirty work.

  When the tub is filled, I shut off the water. Standing, I walk over to the bathroom counter and pick up the hand mirror from the vanity tray. I take one look at my reflection and don’t recognize the gaunt, melancholy woman staring back. Turning, I head back to the tub with the mirror in hand, strip, and climb inside. As I ease into it, I block out the sting of the hot water. I take the mirror and smash it against the ledge. The glass shatters onto the marbled floor.

  I pick up a large shard and then slash my wrists. The pain is instant, but I don’t cry out. Blood streams into the water. Calm, I ease back against the tub and wait for death.

  A minute later, there’s a crash from the bedroom and then the slap of feet running toward the bathroom.

  “What did you do?” Tomas thunders.

  Death, hurry. Please.

  A pair of strong arms dives into the tub.

  “No! No! No!” I pound my bloody arms against his chest.

  He struggles to get a firm hold. “Stop it. Stop it!”

  “Leave me alo
ne,” I wail. “I want to die!” I fight until he loses his grip and drops me.

  I bang my head on the tub’s ledge and slip underwater.

  Tomas snatches me back up and hauls my limp body out of the bathroom.

  Weak, I renew my fight. “Please,” I beg. “Let me die.”

  “It’s not going to happen,” he growls.

  But it is happening. I’m slipping away.

  CHAPTER 25

  THE LOVER

  “You know her?”

  “She’s kind of hard to forget,” Jimmy laughs. “Cataleyna Rosales. She used to come around here all the time—like you.” He cocks his head as if snapping the pieces of the puzzle together. “Ahhh. I get it now. You two had a little weekly rendezvous thing here at the hotel. I gotcha. I gotcha. So you found her then?”

  What did you do with Cataleyna? Salazar had asked.

  “Found her?”

  “Yeah.” Jimmy pauses to think back. “Months ago her father sent an army to comb the whole damn town. I don’t know if she ran away or was kidnapped. Hell, I didn’t even know that she was a cartel princess when she was hanging out here. Goes to show that you never really know about people. You know what I mean?”

  I nod.

  “Anyway, I know it was a big deal around here for a while. There was some huge massacre out at that big compound north of here. A lot of people in town say the Zetas were behind that shit, others say that it was the Vazquez brothers of Columbia. And some say she just ran off. So which was it?”

  Vazquez. The name sounds familiar.

  “Sir?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Which was it? I mean they did find her, right?”

  I don’t know what to tell him.

  Jimmy pales as if he realized he’s been talking too much. “Oh wait, man. If that’s your girl, I’m sorry. I—I didn’t mean anything by it. I—I was—”

  “It’s all right.” I drain my drink. “Hit me again.” I don’t want him to stop talking.

  “Yes—yes, sir.” Jimmy refreshes my drink.

  “The cartel. Tell me what you know about them.”

  “Which one?” Jimmy chuckles.

  “All of them.”

  Hours later, I hike up to my room with my head buzzing. I know what I must do now: Find Cataleyna Rosales. She must be still missing. Why else was that Salazar guy still looking for her? Her disappearance lines up with my washing up on the Playa del Carmen shore. I was there that night she went missing. I’m sure of it.

  I hop off the elevator and rush to Amalia’s room, excited to share everything I’ve learned tonight. Again, she doesn’t answer the door. After knocking for a full minute, I give up and resign to wait for a more appropriate hour.

  Stumbling into my room, I collapse onto the bed, hoping to get at least an hour of sleep. As soon as I close my eyes, Cataleyna appears in her smoldering red beaded gown. There’s a group of women who giggle and laugh around her. I want to walk over and touch her, kiss her, but I can’t. I watch her move as if she’s floating on air and when she laughs, it’s pure music.

  That vision stays with me until I open my eyes an hour later and spot my door creeping open. What in the hell? A silencer-capped gun takes aim.

  I bolt to my left, rolling off the bed as the intruder taps the trigger.

  Poof! Poof!

  One of the bed pillows spit up feathers.

  I scramble across the floor to the bag for my gun. The door bursts open and I return fire, forcing my attackers to take cover.

  When they shoot back, I tuck and roll to the room’s desk before four bullets punch into the floor and desk.

  Moving on instinct, I advance to the other side of the desk and fire with deadly precision.

  Two bodies drop dead.

  Stunned, I stand and creep toward the hit men who now have identical bullet holes in the center of their foreheads.

  “Holy shit.” I don’t know whether to be proud or repulsed by what I’ve done, but I do know that I have to get the hell out of here.

  I grab the duffel bag and Cataleyna’s picture from the bed. At the door, I tense at hearing voices in the hallway. I look around to see if there’s another way out.

  No such luck.

  “Fuck it.” I rush into the hallway with my gun in hand. People gasp and scramble into the rooms. I stop and bang on Amalia’s door.

  No answer.

  “Amalia, open up!” I pound on the door again.

  Where the fuck is she? Heads peek out of the rooms again. I can’t wait around here any longer. I race off. Taking the stairs, I fly down eight flights. When I rush into the lobby, I damn near run straight into the police. Dropping my head, I tuck my weapon beneath my shirt and make a beeline for the front door.

  Out on the sidewalk, I hang a left and keep it moving.

  Police sirens and flashing lights barrel down the street. I tuck and hide my face until the cop cars pass. After that, I take off running—not knowing where in the hell I’m going.

  CHAPTER 26

  THE BOSS

  “Damn!” I slam down the phone and suck in an angry breath. Once I get hold of myself, I lift my gaze to a nameless foot soldier standing by the door. “Bring me the girl.”

  “Yes, boss.” The soldier speeds out of the room.

  I power over to the bar and pour a drink.

  “Let go of me! Let go!”

  I down the drink and then quickly pour another one.

  “You’re making a big mistake, Rosales. You can’t keep me here.”

  “Calm down, Señora Vega.” I wheel around to face her. “No one is going to hurt you. You’re a guest.”

  “Where I come from people don’t lock up guests overnight. That’s called kidnapping.”

  “You say tomato and I say tomahto. You came to me, remember?”

  “For the reward.”

  “I’m not in the habit of handing out twenty-five million dollars to every stranger with a wild story. I had to check you out.”

  Ms. Vega straightens her shoulders. “And?”

  “So far your story checks out, but I’m going to need for you to bring him in. Seems my men missed him this morning.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Instead of answering the question, I roll across the room to a wall of bookshelves. I move one book and then the whole thing slides to the right to reveal my safe.

  “Like I was saying,” I continue, grabbing stacks of cash. “If you want the reward money, you bring him to me.”

  She hesitates. “How do I know that you’ll fulfill your end of the bargain?”

  “You don’t.”

  “And that’s a problem.” She folds her arms. “I don’t trust you.”

  “That makes you a smart woman,” I say. “But this is a onetime offer. You’ll get nothing if I have to get him myself.”

  We engage in a long staring contest. Despite my half-paralyzed face and slight slur, I still get my point across. “You already tried to bring him in,” she says.

  “That’s where you are wrong. I didn’t try to bring in. I tried to kill him. There’s a difference.”

  She fidgets nervously, but eyeballs the stacks of cash.

  “Don’t worry. It’s not your affair. You’re here for the reward money, right?”

  She pauses again. “Right.”

  “Tell you what . . . I’ll give you half upfront: twelve and a half million dollars. The rest when you deliver him. Deal?”

  Pause. “Deal.”

  CHAPTER 27

  THE PRINCESS

  I float in a space and time unfamiliar to me. I want to languish here forever away from the pain and misery that has become my life. I’m safe. Protected. Is this death—a dark, numb and soundless paradise?

  Disappointment pricks my heart. I’d hoped to see Julian’s loving face again—maybe even my mom’s or dad’s. How many times have I wondered if he was dead since he hasn’t rescued me? Don’t think about that. It doesn’t matter. Nothing matters anymore. Not since those mo
nsters stole my baby.

  My sweet baby. I didn’t even have a chance to see her face or give her a name.

  Bit by bit the shards of my broken heart tear me apart. In a snap, my dark safe haven transforms into another private hell. The pain comes rushing back and so do the voices around me.

  “Stupid, stupid, stupid, girl,” a man growls over me. “What the hell did you think you were doing? You can’t die. I’m not going to let you. Not after the hell I went through to get you here. Not after what it’s cost me.”

  Groggy, I peel open my eyes. Everything is still hazy. I blink, but my vision refuses to focus.

  “You can forget it.” He paces beside the bed. “You’re never going to get out of this compound. You’ll never see that kid again.” He stops and bends over me until our faces are inches apart. “You’ll die when I say that you can die and not a second sooner. Do you hear me?”

  I groan, weakly twisting away. He grabs hold of my chin and forces our gazes to meet.

  “Good. We understand each other.” He reaches up and gently streams his fingers through my hair. “You’re still a very beautiful woman. Maybe if you soften your heart a little . . . ?”

  In horror, I choke on a sob.

  He stands. “Fine. Have it your way.” He strolls toward the door. “But you’ll come around—eventually.” He looks up. “Maria, watch her. Make sure that she doesn’t do anything else foolish.”

  “Yes, Señor.”

  He storms out of the room.

  I look down at my bandaged wrists and more tears flood my eyes.

  “Señorita, why do you insist on angering him?” Maria asks.

  Tears swell. I turn my face into my pillow and sob.

  Maria pats me on the head. “There. There. Everything is going to be all right.”

  No it isn’t. Nothing will ever be all right ever again.

  CHAPTER 28

  THE P.I.

  Casita de Maya is crawling with cops. I don’t dare risk going back in there. Right now I have to figure out how to find my client. I keep calling his cell but the calls go straight to voicemail. I can’t give up on my twenty-five million dollar man. I come through Main Street and even take a few trips to the shadier side of town.