by Mia Kenney
“Yeah, he told me he’s a Navy SEAL. Is that a lie too? Is he really just some washed up wanna be who leads a weekend boy scout pack?”
Cadence’s chuckle echoes in the lobby. “He’s right, you are a spitfire. Come on, I’ll give you a ride home.”
“It’s all right, I can manage to get myself home.” I would love a ride, but having Cadence see the rundown neighborhood I’m living in isn’t on the top of my list of things to do.
“No way I'm letting Cruz’s girl walk home. Follow me.” He’s already taking off to another set of elevators, my art bag slung over his shoulder like a bag of feathers.
Cadence tears out of the underground parking garage. “Do you always drive like a maniac?” I ask, tugging on my seatbelt buckle.
“No, but do you want me to?”
“I just want to make it home alive and in one piece.” I don’t know enough about vehicles to recognize what type of car he’s racing down the Vegas Strip. But it’s red and fast, and the motor hums as he shifts gears, weaving in and out of traffic.
He turns at the intersection like he’s done this a million times. The blood drains from my face. I feel so stupid. I’ve been so caught up in Romeo that I haven’t been as careful as usual. “How do you know where I live?” I ask.
The hesitation is brief, but I notice. Suddenly playful Cadence is gripping the gear shift a little tighter and he gives a quick side glance out of the drivers side window. “Cruz mentioned it. I guess I just kind of remembered for some reason.”
Liar. Cadence is lying to me. Like every other man who has ever been in my life. I’ve never told Romeo where I live. Few people escape from Francisco Escobar and live to tell about it. Except I don’t plan on ever telling anybody. I just want to stay alive.
“Oh, okay,” I reply very matter of factly. I can follow along with his lie too.
Moments later we’re parked in front of the shack I rent, looking like lost tourists in his flashy car. I can feel the neighbors watching us behind threadbare curtains. I live in the kind of neighborhood where every yard has a car lifted on cinderblocks and every house has a tattered sign that reads “BEWARE OF DOG.”
“Thanks for the ride,” I say as I slide out of the car.
“No problem, Katalina. See you around.”
I can hear the purr of the engine and feel his eyes on me as I fumble with my house key. Pushing the door open I quickly slam it behind myself and turn the deadbolt lock.
The worst headache ever is creeping up on me. I’m so mad at myself for not being more careful. Melony is the only person who knows where I live, and only because she has to know. I can’t afford to call out sick today so I send her a text.
Hey Mel, have a headache. will be a little late today, ok?
I swallow some ibuprofen with a glass of water. I check the locks on my doors and windows before taking a quick shower. I know she won’t mind my tardiness. It’s not like I have people waiting for me at work. Painting the children’s playroom at the hospital is a solitary job, but one I enjoy greatly. The pay is low but I never expected to make it big as an artist, especially one without a fine arts degree. Hospital administration commissioned me to paint several child friendly portraits to hang throughout the hospital. Some are already on display. Seeing my work displayed in public gives me a sense of pride, even if the signature on the bottom corner isn’t my real name. My cell chirps that I’ve received a text message.
See you soon!
The message is from Mel, and she must have used fifty smiley faces in her text. She’s an emoji junky.
I spin the combination lock and double check my bicycle is secure in the hospital bike rack. Spending the day painting is a good way to get my thoughts away from Romeo, even if the ache between my thighs is a constant reminder of how he made my body buzz.
“Katalina!” My only friend wraps her arms around me like she hasn’t seen me in years. “You look different,” she says, loosening her grip from around my shoulders.
“Good different or bad different?”
“Good! Now tell me about your job painting for the rich guy. I’ve been dying to hear all the details.”
I spend the day painting make believe characters on the walls of the playroom while filling Melony in on all the details of how I got the best job ever and then lost it.
“So wait, you’re telling me you had the best sex of your life with a man who is not only a billionaire but also a Navy SEAL?”
I shake my head yes and avoid looking her way. Instead I focus on painting googly eyes on a purple dinosaur. I know if I look at my friend I’ll begin to cry. My life is so fucked up. Even though I trust Melony I’ve never told her the whole story of why I'm here. Telling her would only put her at risk too and I couldn’t forgive myself if something ever happened to her because of me.
“Hot damn girl! Do you know how many women out there would give up ever having a good hair day again just to spend the night with a guy like him?”
“You don’t even know what he looks like,” I counter.
“Oh please, a billionaire SEAL? It’s like having a knight in shining armor, who also happens to have a huge ass bank account.”
“How do you even know he’s a billionaire?” I ask, feeling foolish.
“Katalina, his name is on a building in Vegas. That’s not pocket change. Hell, that’s not millionaire change. That man is loaded! And I bet he’s got a huge cock too!”
“Oh my God. I can’t believe you’re taking this there. And it doesn’t matter anyway. He used me all night and left while I was sleeping. I’m sure it's just standard operating procedure for a guy like him.” My words are doing a suck ass job of convincing my heart how I truly feel.
“Maybe he had work to do. Maybe he’s out saving the world while you’re here painting and having a pity party for yourself,” says Melony.
I flick my brush and purple flecks spatter in her hair. She’s laughing so hard happy tears run down her cheeks.
“In the two years I’ve known you I’ve never heard you talk about a man. You never go out and you dress like a bag lady. And don’t even get me started on that bun. Who does that to their hair?”
“I’m a painter. I can’t have my hair in the way,” I reach up and pat my bun.
“Oh, pleassssse,” Melony teases. “I bet that SEAL had your long hair wrapped around his hand all night, pulling and bending you into submission. Those types of guys are all about control, and I think it’s H-O-T.”
I roll my eyes and act like it wasn’t a big deal. “I haven’t eaten since last night. Lets go see what culinary surprise awaits us in the employee cafeteria,” I say.
“Nice job changing the subject. But you’re still telling me all about your filthy rich sex machine. Did you meet his friends? It’s been awhile since I’ve had a good fucking.”
“Melony, the guy walked out and left me. Didn’t even have the balls to leave me a ‘good bye, I’ll talk to you later’ note. I never want to see or talk to him again. I’m completely happy being by myself.”
“Then you better stop at the shelter and get some cats on your way home. If you’re gonna be the crazy cat lady who lives all by herself you may as well start now. And while you’re naming all of your new found feline companions I’ll be fuckin’ all of his friends. Guys like him always have their military pack, and I can’t pass up an opportunity like that.”
Her words hurt more than she realizes but I know she’s right. The thing is, there isn’t anything I can do about it. He left me. He’s probably moved on to some beautiful woman with big fake tits by now. I was nothing but a blip on his radar, an easy lay. Geez, I didn’t even put up a chase. And now I feel foolish for ever believing Romeo Crew would be interested in a nobody like myself.
“You know what, I’ve changed my mind. I’m really not hungry and I feel like my headache is coming back. I’m going to head home before it gets dark,” I tell Melony, and I see the disappointment in her face.
I cruise along on my bike dow
n the strip, my art bag slung across the handle bars and my oversized sunglasses hiding my puffy eyes. I can’t stop thinking about Romeo. The way he made me feel. The way he made my body buzz and my thighs tremble. Whether I like to admit it or not, Romeo made me want more of everything.
I’m lost in my pity party of a man who will never want me and don’t notice the note nailed to my front door until my key is in the lock.
“I WILL ALWAYS FIND YOU”
8
Romeo
“Hey, Fucker In Charge, your girl is home and safe. And she hates you.” Cade’s voice comes in distant and crackling over the plane satellite phone. My team has been calling me the FIC for as long as I can remember. It’s a huge compliment and reminder of who I am.
“Shut the fuck up Cade,” I yell. I can’t blame Kat for being angry with me right now. I left her in the center of my bed, naked and alone. Her scent still lingering on my fingers. She’s the first woman I’ve ever brought home to my bed and if I have it my way I’ll keep her there forever. But right now I need to focus on the mission.
“All of you fuckers listen up,” I bellow out over the roar of the C-130 Hercules engine. Even though they’re strapped into cargo net seating they all shift to hear what I have to say. Six cammo painted faces stare at me with hungry anticipation. I can smell the adrenaline and testosterone filled air, and it’s a subtle reminder of why I fuckin’ love what I do.
“Cade, what’s our ETA?” I ask.
“Zero two-thirty, FIC. Our contact has a clear strip for the landing and a loaded five ton armored vehicle waiting.”
“What’s the position of the girls?” I bark, already feeling my boiling blood pumping through my veins.
“Satellite surveillance shows them in a make shift hut, deep in the jungle. The image is grainy but it looks like two guards in the front, both armed with assault rifles. There are five other tangos in a structure two hundred yards to the north.”
“We’re gonna light those motherfuckers up. Shoot and then ask questions. All you fuckers understand?” I ask while smearing on my own face paint. They all grunt in unison.
“Finn and Rocco,” I bark. “You guys take out the guards and load up the hostages. Once they’re secure, torch that fuckin’ hut. Noble, I want you and Chaos on my six. We’ll split up and take out the other five. I want that jungle to be a fuckin’ inferno when we tap out of there.” The plane hits some turbulence and I grab onto the overhead ring for balance.
“Test all communications before wheels down. When we hit the pavement it’s two minutes to unload all this shit into the truck. So if you leave your fuckin’ lucky charm on the seat it’s tough shit for you.”
I grab my gear and haul ass to the co-pilot seat. “Bowen, you know the drill. Drop us then high tail it the fuck out of here. Over the clouds and out of site. These crazy fuckers could have a rocket launcher for all I know.”
“Got it boss.” He nods his head and adjusts the volume on his radio. Nine Inch Nails fills the cockpit.
The landing is smooth and we’re hauling ass right on time. I look over at Noble bouncing around the back with the bug out bags. He’s a quiet fucker, snipers always are and I never know what’s knockin’ around that thick head of his. He’s legendary in the SEAL community for having the most certified kills. Noble can pop an enemy’s head off from a mile away.
The truck jerks when Chaos downshifts and slams us into park. “Time to roll,” he says with a grin bigger than Kim Kardashian’s plastic tits.
Signaling with my hands I order, “On my count, 1…2…3…” We’re off under the cloak of night, our night vision goggles guiding us through dense tropical forests. Hell, the action hasn’t even started and I’m already drenched in sweat. The jungle floor is dense and overgrown with vines, palm leaves, and who the hell knows what else. Mosquitos the size of cats are on my heels and if this wasn’t my first time in a humid tropical forest the sounds alone would freak me the fuck out. Those girls must be petrified. Americans aren’t accustomed to this type of environment, let alone being drugged and kidnapped by a Mexican drug gang.
In the distance I hear the familiar thud of bodies going down and am confident Finn and Rocco are taking the hostages to safety.
Fifty yards ahead is a barn type of building housing the other five kidnappers. Using hand signals I direct Chaos and Noble to the west and east sides of the building and I take the north. The smell of cheap cigarettes and booze floats through the screened window. I guess these pretty boys don’t like the bugs biting their delicate skin. I push my night vision goggles on top of my head and give my eyes time to adjust to the dim light. Five men sit around a circular table drinking and playing cards. Oblivious they’re about to get their motherfuckin’ heads blown off.
I press my M-40 scope against the screen and zero in on the big ugly fucker wearing a sweat stained wife beater. He’s the only man with a weapon strapped around his chest, probably the leader of this shit circus. I’d prefer to question the hostages first, then dole out the punishment as I see fit. I’ve always identified myself as an avenger, a vigilante of sorts. My gut tells me he’s deserving of a much slower death than a shot to the head. Fortunately for him he’ll be dead before he takes another swig of warm beer.
Pacing my respirations I aim, inhale, and pull the trigger at the halfway mark of my exhale, sending the bullet cutting through sweltering heat. In exactly point zero two seconds he drops to the dirt floor like a whale carcass. The other four don’t even have time to grab their guns before joining their leader on the ground.
“Time to rock n’ roll,” I speak into my headset mike. I press a finger to my ear, adjusting the listening device for clarity.
“That was too easy,” Noble complains.
“Stop bitchin’ and toss in the grenades. I want flames to be seen from the Mars Rover,” I order. I toss in my own explosive pineapple and start running back to the truck. I can’t help but chuckle when a swoosh of heat goes up my back, burning the hairs on my neck. The scent of thick smoke clouds around me and I grin. There are seven less bad guys in the world tonight.
“What the fuck, Finn,” I say while taking in the seen. The girl laying in the truck is barely alive. She doesn’t even open her eyes to look at us. Her chest rises with each breath, but barely. There’s so much mud covering her body it's difficult to tell where the dirt ends and the bruises begin.
“She tried to escape. I don’t believe she got far before she was caught and beaten, then made an example of to the others.” The other girls don’t recognize it but the shakiness in Finn’s voice tells me it’s bad. It takes a lot for a SEAL to show emotion, especially one of Finn’s caliber. This isn’t his first time to the rodeo.
“I found her curled up in the dirt, chained to a post like a dog. Nothing but a bowl of dirty water next to her. All these bug bites make me believe she’s been kept outside for some time. The other girls are too shaken up right now to get into specifics. And fuck boss, I don’t know how to talk nice with them. They all look terrified of us.”
“Rocco, get a bug out bag. Now,” I say. Looking down at the girl spread across the bed of the truck, I see a puddle of blood growing under her head.
She doesn’t look a day over twenty, her long hair matted in blood and dirt, her thin body curled up in the fetal position. Various shades of bruising cover her ribs and I can count each individual vertebrae in her spine. Her skin is pasty white and damp, indicating a large amount of blood loss. She’s only dressed in her panties and bra, and the thoughts of what those bastards did to her make me want to kill them all over again.
“Grab the hypothermia blanket and electrolytes,” I order.
Finn goes directly to the supplies in the bug out bag. They’re each packed the same for a situation like this. Seconds can make the difference between life and death and this girl is hanging on by a thread.
“Come on sweetheart, swallow this,” Finn says as he holds her head up with one hand and presses the bug juice to her cracke
d lips. “It tastes like shit but the electrolytes will help you feel better. And the blanket will help control your shivering.” I get a good vibe when the girl begins to gulp down the bug juice.
I glance over at the other girls, but they’re too scared to look me in the face. This is normal hostage behavior and I’m not shocked by it. From what I can tell they’re all in better shape than this girl.
“Well fuck me,” Finns words hiss through the night air. “These are goddamned human teeth marks. Those assholes are lucky to be dead.” The girl moans as Finn cleans her wounds along the inside of her arm with antiseptic and wraps them in bandages. “Hold on sweetheart, you’re gonna feel a pinch. I need to give you a shot of penicillin.”
9
Kat
I will never be safe. The Escobar family has connections I could only dream of. I’ve been a fool hiding in Las Vegas and believing Francisco would eventually give up. I shove the few belongings I have into a backpack and change into my yoga pants and the NAVY sweatshirt Romeo gave me. It’s three times too big on me but being wrapped in his clothes and scent makes me feel safe. I know it’s nothing but a false sense of security, but for right now it’s all I have.
Looking over my shoulder I take one last look at the place I’ve called home for the past two years. One ugly thrift store chair in a dingy living room outfitted with dollar store accents. A few sketch books and three plastic plates with mismatched cups are all I have.
I remove the battery from my cell phone and flush it down the toilet before tossing the phone in the trash. I have no idea how Francisco found me but I’m not taking any chances.
It’s two o’clock in the morning but you would never know it. The moon and stars light up the desert sky and the city lights of Vegas never turn off. My paranoia makes me look over my shoulder about every ten feet as I pedal my bike down the Vegas strip. Even Francisco isn’t dumb enough to take me in front of all these witnesses. People are out celebrating, walking along brides in cheap dresses and drunken grooms stumbling behind. Everyone seems happy and nobody notices me dodging potholes and fancy sports cars.