by Karina Halle
She would have gone insane without Ben and her father there. With her husband concentrating on the road, his conversation was limited.
It was Ben and Gus that did what she needed them to do and that was to continuously come up with a plan. To keep talking. To keep working out ways to get Violet back. It kept the spirit in the car positive and hopeful and empowering for those seven long hours. It kept Ellie from drowning in guilt.
Most of the time.
She had to keep reminding herself that Vicente didn’t mean Violet harm, though that was often hard to believe. At the very core of her, she didn’t want to see his human side, believe that he really cared.
Because to do that would mean she would compare him to his father.
And have to admit that once upon a time, Javier really cared too.
But Ellie never let herself dwell on those days. Javier proved time and time again that he was only after one thing, and that was power. He may have thought he loved her, but that kind of love would always be second best to what he craved the most.
In contrast, Camden loved only her. Wanted only her. Would fight for only her. It was through her husband that she understood what love truly was. And in some ways, that made her part of the select few. Ellie fought tooth and nail her whole life to be loved and accepted, finding nothing but lies and mockery at every corner. She was used and abused, over and over again.
Until she and Camden found each other once more. That’s when Ellie knew she was given something so fucking precious she had to hang onto it with every ounce she had. Camden’s love didn’t change the world, but it changed her world. It changed her heart, her soul. It created Violet. It nurtured Ben.
It was more than enough. For twenty years, Ellie had lived a life fuller than she could have ever imagined, bigger and with more love than most will ever experience.
It some ways, she had to expect that one day it would all come crashing down.
She just didn’t think it would be like this.
Never like this.
Never at the expense of her daughter.
When they finally pull into Palm Valley, it’s late, past midnight.
Even at night, Ellie can make out the rows of date palms stretching out into the desert, one of the farms used to belong to her Uncle Jim, the place she spent her high school years.
It’s weird to be back. As El Segundo slows down Palm Valley’s main street, Camden and Ellie exchange an uneasy glance. Why did she have to come back here of all places? There are too many memories tucked away in every nook and cranny, carried to dust.
The past is still alive here. Even Ben comments on it, grappling with faded memories, the feeling that he’d been here once.
And then the car is silent as they cruise to the end of the road.
Where the hotel is located.
Where the lights are flashing.
Red and blue.
Panic seizes all of them like a net.
The hotel parking lot is filled with police cruisers, ambulances, and a fire truck.
Camden doesn’t even have the car at the curb before Ellie is opening the door and running straight for the crowd.
She looks around, pushing through, taking it all in. There doesn’t seem to be anyone in custody, doesn’t seem to be anyone hurt. Clumps of people are standing around, talking excitedly to the cops and TV reporters.
Ellie finds a person that looks to be a busy body—a middle-aged woman in yoga pants watching everything with insatiable eyes like she’s devouring a tabloid—and sidles up to her.
“Just pulled into town, what happened?” Ellie asks as casually as she can, trying to keep the dire fear and urgency from her voice. She folds her arms against her chest to ward off the chill of the desert night.
The woman barely even glances at her, her eyes trained to the media circus. “Apparently it was a kidnapping. Not an attempted kidnapping, an actual kidnapping.”
Ellie can’t even respond. The woman goes on excitedly, spilling the beans. “Guests reported a struggle in one of the rooms, a woman screaming. They thought it was a domestic violence case. Then they saw a young man and woman running down the hall in their bathrobes. Totally naked underneath. With a gun! They were followed right after by two other men with guns. Then something happened in the parking lot, right here where we are standing. They were taken away into a white van and they drove off just a few moments before the cops arrived.”
“Did they say anything about who the perps were?” Ben asks. Ellie looks up, grateful to see her son at her side and taking control of the situation because words are already failing her.
“I hear they were all Mexican,” the woman says in a hush. “Or at least Latino. All except the girl. She was white. Dark hair. With tattoos.” She looks at Ellie and frowns. “Kind of like you,” she says with a wave but she doesn’t dwell on it. “It’s been a hell of a night. Did you hear what happened earlier?”
“What?” Ben asks.
“So sad. So scary. The late Sheriff’s wife was found dead in her mobile home. Suffocated with a plastic bag over her head.”
“Sheriff…Mc…McQueen?” Ben asks.
“That’s the one. His wife, Raquel. She was quiet but nice. Lived alone in a mobile home park outside of town, you know her husband just passed from cancer. Such a shame. Cops now don’t know if the two crimes are connected or not. In a way, I hope they were. This town can’t handle two random killings in one night.” She looks at them. “You both from around here?”
But Ellie is already walking toward the car, back to Camden who is waiting beside it. Gus is in the distance, talking to a cop.
“They have her,” Ellie says to him before collapsing in his arms. “They have her.”
Camden holds onto her tight. “What happened?”
She stares up at him, her fingers grasping his hoodie. “I don’t know. They were taken.”
“Both of them? Or just Violet?”
Ellie shakes her head. “I don’t know. But she’s gone. She’s gone.”
Camden tries to calm her, to prevent her hysterics. She knows she has to hold it together and be strong, she knows this is just as hard on him and now he has to be the one to hold them both up.
But when your daughter is gone, so is everything.
“Okay,” Gus says gruffly, coming up to them with Ben behind him. “I have the lowdown. Seems that there was an incident in Vicente and Violet’s room. Guests reported a scream, some yelling. Witnesses saw both Vicente and Violet running down the halls, barefoot and in their robes. Vicente had a gun but wasn’t using it aggressively. Both seemed to be on the run from something. They disappeared down the stairwell over there, and minutes later two other men came running out of their room, weapons drawn. One was short, Hispanic. The other was big, Caucasian. At that point a few guests had gathered in the lobby to complain about the noise and a call was placed to the cops. They reported seeing Violet and Vicente in the parking lot, hiding behind a car. Then Violet snuck away, trying to escape. She was picked up by a very tall Hispanic man. There seemed to be a struggle. Then Violet and Vicente were unconscious, hauled away to a van.”
“Both of them were unconscious?” Ben asks. “Even Vicente?”
“That’s what the witnesses told the police,” Gus says. “They were all watching from the windows.”
“Well who the fuck were these people?” Ellie screams. “Why didn’t they do anything to help my daughter!”
“Calm, Ellie, easy, easy,” Gus says, placing his hand on her shoulder. “This was a hostile and violent situation. No one knew what was going on. They called the cops. That was the most they could do without getting in harm’s way.”
But none of that matters to her right now. All that she can think of is getting her daughter back, all she can feel is rage at those who did nothing, and rage at herself for ignoring all the signs.
Her breath becomes shorter.
The flashing lights become dots.
“Mom!” Ben calls out befor
e she collapses into Camden’s arms.
About an hour passes before Ellie wakes up.
She’s in the back seat of the Challenger, her head resting against her father’s shoulder.
“Where are we?” she whispers. She can’t be bothered to feel embarrassed about fainting earlier.
“Close to the border, by Calexico,” Gus says softly. “We’ll cross there.”
She slowly sits up and looks around her. The car is dark except for the lights on the dash. No cars pass on the two-lane highway they’re traveling down. The headlights illuminate blacktop, the yellow lines rushing toward them. On the sides of the road, the sand is so featureless in the night it looks like a blanket of snow.
Camden and Ben sit in the front seats. In the shadows Ellie is strangely struck by how similar they look, as if seeing them for the first time. The exact same height and strong, muscular build. They even sit the same way, straight up, shoulders back. Relaxed but not slouching.
“How do we get across the border?” she asks quietly. She doesn’t to disturb the silent hum of the car, the only sound being the roar of the engine.
“You all have your passports,” Gus says. “It won’t be a problem.”
“The guns?”
“It won’t be a problem,” Gus repeats. “Trust me Ellie. Don’t you remember by now? We’re going into Mexico. Not out of.”
She doesn’t want to remember that time. It seems like a dream.
But she knows Gus is right.
“And then what?”
“Your son has a handle on it,” her father says.
And, oh, there’s the twitch in Ben’s posture. The stiffening of his muscles at the mention of the word “son.” There’s so much going on, Ellie has to remind herself of everything Ben—and Violet—had been grappling with between themselves, before it ever came to light.
Ben doesn’t say anything though. He doesn’t need to.
Ellie trusts them all.
They know how to find Violet
That may end up being the least of their problems.
Chapter Ten
Javier
Sinaloa, Mexico
There’s a knock at Javier’s office door.
He barely hears it above the music that’s blaring through his office.
Fucking Personal Jesus. Depeche Mode. 1990, man.
Javier slowly sashays his way to the door, tequila bottle in his hand. Opens it.
Luisa is standing on the other side, frowning at him like only she can do.
“What are you doing?” she asks. “Why are you dancing?”
“Oh come on, Luisa, do any of us ever need a reason to dance?” he asks, going up to her with his shoulders swaggering to the beat, left, right, left, right.
He grabs her hand and pulls her into the room, spinning her around in a pirouette. Despite the spontaneity, she executes it perfectly.
“Javier,” she says, but as bewildered as she looks at him, she’s smiling.
Smiling. Fuck, Javier thinks, how damn beautiful is she?
How rare that she smiles and means it.
That rare snake of remorse that he often ignores? It comes back again, sliding into his heart with the song. He feels terrible for a hot second that she’s been neglected lately. He knows he has to do better for her.
And he is.
One step at the time.
This is the first step, even if she doesn’t know it yet.
He pulls her close to him, gives her a long, languid kiss. He knows he tastes like tequila and the celebratory cigar he smoked earlier with Oscar Barrera, but he doesn’t care.
“What has gotten into you?” she asks, pulling back. She’s trying to sound annoyed, like she’s the type of wife who has to constantly fight off her husband’s advances. It’s not that Javier doesn’t still have a healthy sexual appetite, it’s just that she never fights him off.
But it’s been a long time since the two of them were remotely intimate. Javier’s had too much on his mind and Luisa has been too withdrawn and tired, frail even. Javier has had the best doctors come in and do tests on her, fearing it might be cancer, but Luisa’s had the clear bill of health. The only thing it can be is stress.
Stress of being second, Javier supposes.
At least that’s why he’s been stressed the last ten years or so. Ever since the Sinaloa Cartel lost the wide share to the Zetas. The fact that he’s been having to pay a fucking tax to the Zetas for Juarez and a shit ton of other ports and passages eats him alive at night.
And he’s sure it’s been eating up Luisa too. It’s not that their situation has changed. They’re still rich beyond their wildest dreams and their power is unstoppable, at least in this area. At least until another cartel moves in and fractures either him or the Zetas. Then who fucking knows what will happen to them.
But he tries not to think about it. Which is why it’s so important that Vicente grow up to be the ruthless man he needs to be.
Why this lesson is so fucking important.
Break the boy, create the man.
Javier has repeated that inside his head so many times it’s become his mantra.
It helps that way. It distances himself from what he has to do.
Being methodical is so much better. Smarter.
If only he could teach Luisa to do the same.
“I’m happy, my queen,” he says. “Haven’t you seen me happy before?”
Her smile fades. A slight shake of her head. “No. Not in a long time.”
He inhales sharply and tries to smile. “Well this is what it looks like.”
He spins her around again, dips her. She laughs, her dark hair spilling behind her like oil.
Javier knows, in this instant, just how lucky he is. How he must fight to keep things like this. It won’t be easy, and for a while Luisa will hate him, but things will then get better. They’ll be king and queen again, thanks to their darkened prince.
“Is this about Vicente?” she asks, breathless. It’s as if she can read Javier’s eyes. Something that makes him want to shy away. She can’t look too deep, know too much.
He grins at her. “Yes. In fact, it is. They have him.”
She stares at him in disbelief, hand going to her chest. “Are you sure? Is he okay?”
Javier shrugs. “Okay? They had to drug him of course, just in case, but yes he’s okay. They brought him through the tunnel already. He’s on our side. Should be here in the morning.”
“And the girl,” she says, her excitement turning to worry. “What about the girl?”
“They have her too,” he says simply, taking the tequila and parking himself back at the desk.
“Who is she again?” Luisa asks, leaning against the desk, showing off her cleavage. Still firm, still taught.
Javier stares for a moment before looking at her eyes. “I told you. She’s the daughter of someone who wronged me.”
She cocks her head, hair falling over her shoulders. “No. You told me she was the daughter of someone important, someone we had to negotiate with.”
“It’s the same thing.”
“Javier,” she says. “Tell me who it fucking is.”
He sighs long and hard, and with the tip of his long finger drags a highball glass over to him from the glassware set at the end of the desk. “Sit and have a drink with me.”
“Not until you tell me.”
“I’ll tell you if you have a drink with me,” he says, staring at her. He knows he’ll win this game.
She knows this too. She has two options. She can leave or she can drink and stay. Her husband holds all the cards.
With a sigh, she plops down in the chair across from him and pushes her glass over to him.
With a satisfied smirk, Javier pours her a glass then raises his to hers.
“First we must cheers, to celebrate Vicente’s safe return.”
She hesitantly raises her glass and he knocks his against hers.
He takes a slow mouthful, watching her every move
. She amuses him endlessly. So full of fire and yet still unsure. He knows she’s going to be a handful going forward, that she’ll have to be restrained at times over what’s going to happen. She’ll feel for Vicente, as a mother should. And in that same line of reasoning, she’ll probably feel for Violet. She’ll object to what will be done.
Javier knows this. But it has to be done. His wife may not understand it right now but in time, when she sees the kind of man Vicente has become, she will. She’ll appreciate it. The good it will do, the good it will bring them all.
Javier is doing this for the good of everyone in this family.
“So, tell me,” she says.
“Drink first.”
She sighs and has a sip. His eyes never leave hers.
“Okay,” she says, pushing the glass away. “I stayed. I had a drink. Tell me who the fucking girl is or I swear to god…”
Javier is intrigued. “Or you’ll what?”
“You’ll find out. And you won’t like it.”
He chuckles. “You’re a national treasure, you know that?”
“Javier…”
He finishes the rest of the glass and leans back in his chair, lacing his fingers behind his head. “Do you remember Ellie Watt?”
Luisa eyes him sharply. “You mean your ex-girlfriend? The American puta who fucked you over?”
“Yes, that’s the one. Well, the girl, Violet, is Ellie’s daughter.”
Luisa couldn’t look more shocked. She doesn’t even react. She’s just big brown eyes staring at him in disbelief.
Fucking adorable, Javier thinks.
Finally, she talks. Practically spits it out. “What? You kidnapped her daughter?!”
“No, no, no,” Javier says quickly. “Vicente did.”
“What?!”
“Not on purpose. But he did his job.”
“Javi, what the fuck is going on?” Her fingers are pressed into the desk, turning her skin white from strain.