by Bella Grant
“Had a rough time?”
“We are college professors doing research and got separated from our group,” Tony lied easily. “A farmer or rancher or someone gave us a ride here, but we don’t know where here is. We have no money, nothing. Can I use your internet to send a message to a friend?”
“How terrible,” the man replied, pressing his lips together in sympathy. “You can use that computer over there. Would you like some water?”
“Oh please!” Grace said, her voice intentionally raspy. “We ran out of water earlier today.”
“Send your message and I’ll be right back,” he offered, sliding a card to Tony. “This is the password to use the internet. Usually, there’s a fee, but I’ll waive it.”
“Thank you so much,” she gushed, relieved to be getting something to drink.
She followed Tony to the carrel where the computer was housed. The thing was probably older than the car they’d stolen, and the internet was dial-up. She hauled a chair over from the closest table and sat down next to him, snickering as he tapped his thigh impatiently, waiting for the thing to boot up so he could send his email.
“Shut up,” he growled, and she giggled again.
“Yes, Mr. Impatient,” she teased. “How quickly will you hear back from your friend?”
“Should be immediately,” he told her as the computer screen flashed to the internet and he began typing. “He was expecting my message yesterday, or even the day before, so he’s probably watching his phone for this email.”
“What if he doesn’t?”
“We’re screwed,” he said without hesitation. Grace swallowed hard and blinked at his harsh pronouncement, and as if he knew he’d been too rough, he placated, “He’ll answer, Grace. He always has.”
“Okay.”
The librarian returned with their water, and Tony paused to gulp half of it while he waited for the computer to catch up. He looked at him, thanked him, and asked, “May we wait here for an answer? It shouldn’t take long.”
“Of course. As you can see, we aren’t being run over by customers,” the man joked with a little smile. Grace felt sorry for him as he slouched away, his dream heavy on his shoulders.
“Poor guy.”
Tony didn’t answer as he typed the email and pressed send. He sat back in the chair to wait for the reply. With a glance her way, he said, “I saw a store down the block. We can run down there and get whatever you need.”
“Oh, good,” she replied, looking anywhere but at him. “We can grab some food there too.”
Tony chuckled and teased, “For a woman your size, you talk about food a lot.”
“Canned veggies only get you so far,” Grace said blandly. “Aren’t you hungry?”
“I am, but I’ve had to go much longer without,” Tony told her. “Another perk of the job.”
“I think your job sounds awful, but I’m glad you do it,” Grace told him, smiling at him when he looked at her.
“Me too,” Tony replied, his eyes on hers. A moment passed, and he reached over and cupped her cheek gently, leaning closer to kiss her lips softly. “I’m glad your boss is my pal.”
Stunned by the so unexpected display of affection, she didn’t respond vocally, just nodded her head and smiled. The computer dinged, interrupting them, and Grace was thankful. They looked together to read the message from his friend.
“Bud White? Is that his real name?” Grace asked after a snort of laughter.
Tony chuckled again. “He says it is.” He sobered quickly as he read. “Damn.”
Bud White couldn’t get them until the next day. Because he’d thought they would be ready earlier, he had scheduled a flight with another group this evening and couldn’t change it. He apologized and offered to send a different pilot, but Tony shook his head when Grace asked why not.
“I only trust Bud for this type of job,” he said. He responded to the email and told him they’d be at the airstrip at the time he’d listed, noon the next day, and signed off. “We’ll have to find somewhere to sleep.”
“Do we have money?”
“I always have money,” Tony said, looking at her like she was crazy. She smirked at him, enjoying his slightly silly side, and he told her, “Let’s go to the store and get what you need. We can ask about a place to stay there.”
“Okay.” Grace felt a shudder trying to overtake her body, but she didn’t let it. She didn’t want him to see and ask.
They thanked the librarian and walked a block down the street to the store, which was like a corner market in any American town. No one paid them much attention, though Grace felt as if everyone was staring at their disheveled appearance. Santa Poco was certainly not a tourist destination, but the town had the amenities one needed to get by, unlike a couple of the places they’d driven through.
“Not to get repetitive,” Grace announced as she pointed to a little restaurant nearby, “but that place has food.”
Tony laughed louder than she’d heard him do so before, and the sound rippled through her and cheered her. “After the store, I promise.”
“Thank you,” she sniffed. “I may buy a snack while we wait.”
“You do what you need to.”
Once in the store, they separated, and Grace realized that she would have to put the pregnancy test on the counter, since he was paying, if they had one that was early detection. She hurried to the woman’s aisle and found the tampons quickly. She grabbed the first box and scampered further down the aisle to look at the pregnancy tests. Several kinds sat on the shelf, but all of them said the same thing: to wait until after she’d missed her period. She stared up at the ceiling as she recalculated, thinking about how many pills she’d had left in the packet. Three, which meant her period should literally start the next day. She was as regular as the sun rising.
Dear God, I hope I need the tampons, she thought. She debated with herself about buying the test. If she was honest with herself, she really wanted to take it this evening, just to see. That would be stupid, she argued as she read the box again, which told her to wait a few more days. She decided she didn’t care. She’d take the test tonight and see what it said. Either way, she’d have to take another one when she returned to the US.
As she wandered to the counter to join Tony, her ploy to get the pregnancy test past him solidified in her mind. As the clerk began ringing up their purchases, she asked, “Do you have Diet Coke?”
“Si,” the woman answered, gesturing to Tony’s left and about ten steps away.
As she’d hoped, Tony said, “I’ll grab it.”
When he walked away, she set the test on the counter and put her finger to her lips, winking at the woman so she’d understand the secret. The woman smiled and rang it up, putting it quickly in the same bag as the tampons and handing it to her. Grace smiled a thank you as Tony returned with her Diet Coke. He paid and they left with a couple of bags. Grace immediately opened the bag of chips he’d bought and they dug in.
“Good Lord, these are the best potato chips I’ve ever had in my life,” Grace said around a mouthful.
The bag rattled as he stuck his hand in for another handful, stuffing them in his mouth and nodding his agreement. They ate as they walked to the café, polishing off the entire bag in the five-minute walk like two teenaged boys after football practice. Once inside, they ordered sandwiches, more chips, and drinks while the woman behind the counter eyed them suspiciously.
As they walked to a table outside, Grace commented, “We might want to do something about our clothes. We are starting to draw attention now.”
“Yeah, and that’s not a good thing,” he said, glancing around. “Hopefully we can find a place to stay and wash them out. I bought a small package of laundry soap.”
Grace giggled around her bite of sandwich. “We do it old school in the tub.”
Tony nodded, his eyes watchful. His stance, the tension in his body, hadn’t changed while they’d been in Santa Poco, while Grace had relaxed significantly, f
orgetting for a time that they were being hunted by the cartel. Sitting calmly across from him with nothing to focus on, her nerves began to hum again. She glanced around them uncertainly, but she saw no reason for his suspicion.
“Are you okay?”
He glanced at her, swallowed, and nodded. “Until we’re in the States, we aren’t safe.”
She nodded sadly, looking around. “I guess you’re right.”
They finished their meal and wandered around Santa Poco, but there were no rooms to rent. The town had no hotel or motel, nor did it have a boarding house or anything of that nature. Grace didn’t relish the idea of sleeping outside on a bench, and Tony told her they might as well hike out to the airstrip and sleep there.
“This is such a bummer,” she whined, wishing for the millionth time she had become a teacher like she’d planned to when she first graduated from college. Photography had been a hobby, then a terrific job, but this week, she hated it.
“Pardon me,” a man said, causing both Tony and Grace to jerk around. He smiled graciously at them, extending his hands palm up in the universal sign of friendship.
“Yes?” Tony asked roughly, his eyes narrowed at the stranger. The man wore a spotless white button-up with tan trousers and carried a hat that looked like a fedora made of straw rather than felt.
“I am a friend of the librarian’s. Senor Garcia. You and your wife have no place to stay?”
Tony didn’t correct his assumption. “We do not. But it’s only for one night. We’ll be fine.”
“Please, my wife and I live on the outskirts of town and have plenty of room. Senor Garcia said you were lost on a research expedition?”
Grace, who knew she should be distrustful, wanted to throw herself into the man’s arms for offering. He sounded sincere and looked kind. Not everyone in Mexico is a part of the cartel, she thought hopefully. However, whatever choice Tony made, she would defer to it without comment. Tony glanced at her, obviously and practically dubious of the man’s intentions, and she shrugged.
“Thank you, Senor,” Tony answered, taking her hand, “but I think we’ll take our chances. It’s a warm night, and we’ve been sleeping on the ground for weeks on the expedition. Nothing new to us.”
A large car pulled up near them and parked at the curb. An incredibly tall man stepped out of the passenger seat and spoke in rapid Spanish to the man. Grace heard him say Senor Guapo but understood nothing else. Tony had stiffened the minute the car had stopped, and he squeezed her hand. She tensed her body, ready to spring into a sprint if she needed to.
“Mr. Romano, my apologies, but you and Ms. McIntyre need to join me in the car,” Guapo said with a smile.
“We’d prefer not to, thanks,” Tony answered, attempting to turn. While they’d been focused on Guapo and the large man whose gun was in his hand now, three men had appeared behind them. Tony turned back. “You work for de Velazquez?”
“Not really, but he does pay well when he wants something,” Guapo replied good-naturedly. “You will stay at my house, bathe, and accept a change of clothes, and tonight you will be my guests at dinner.”
“And when will de Velazquez arrive?”
“That will depend on you and Ms. McIntyre,” he said secretively, another smile that now seemed sinister on his face. He gestured to the car, but neither of them moved. With a sigh, he pointed out, “I know you’re both armed, as I’m sure you know all of my men are. A gunfight here, with all these innocents around, is not the best tactic for escape.”
Tony looked at Grace, then behind them at the men. She followed his glance; there was no escape at this moment without serious danger to themselves and any people who happened to be around.
As if sensing their capitulation, Guapo ordered politely, “If you’ll hand your backpack and weapons to my men, please. You may keep your shopping bag, Ms. McIntyre.”
Grace wanted to cry as the man behind her took the gun Tony had given her. They’d been so close to escape, to the airstrip and the meeting that would have gotten them home. Tomas de Velazquez had a long reach, and because she’d escaped easily last time, she was certain all routes would be cut off.
Tony took her hand as they climbed into the back seat. Guapo took the passenger seat, and the tall man disappeared into another car with the other three, which pulled behind and followed closely.
“What do we do?” she whispered to Tony, clutching his hand tightly as they turned a corner and left the town behind.
“We wait and hope for a way out,” he said, his voice tight. He glanced down at her, and she saw determination in his eyes. “I won’t let them hurt you, one way or another.”
Understanding his meaning, she nodded as fear snaked through her body. Unless a miracle happened, she would be dead either way in the next twenty-four hours. Involuntarily, her hand touched her belly, and a single tear slipped down her cheek.
Chapter 13
Guapo’s house looked like de Velazquez’s except dustier due to the fact the area was more desert than lush jungle. As they were paraded through the gate onto the grounds and up the steps into the house, Tony looked in every direction, though his head was relatively still. Furious with himself for being distracted by the idea of a romp with Grace at the airstrip, he’d allowed these men to easily capture them and take their weapons.
The promise he’d made to her was at the front of his brain. He wouldn’t let de Velazquez have her; he knew her fate would be prolonged torture, both physical and mental, until she was a broken shell lying bloody on the dirty floor of a cell. He’d have to kill her if there was no other choice, but the idea of doing so destroyed him a little. He cared for her, more than he would have expected after such a short time together. Her death at his hand would be a blessing, but if he survived, he would have to live with it. His survival, should she die, wasn’t going to happen.
As they walked through the hacienda, a gorgeous example of Mexican architecture, Tony saw no means of escape. Guapo stopped them at the base of the steps that led upstairs.
“My men will escort you to your room,” he said, as if he were their host and not the jailer. “I’ll have clean clothes sent up. Please, take advantage of the shower and bed. Rest. This evening at eight, we will have dinner.”
Tony glared at the man. “Stop pretending you aren’t sending us to our deaths by calling de Velazquez.”
Guapo smirked at him. “May I remind you, your deliverance to de Velazquez is not certain.”
“What do you mean?” Grace asked, frowning.
“We’ll discuss at dinner,” Guapo announced. “Up you go.”
They followed two men up the stairs and to a bedroom that had bars on all the windows. The men closed the door and locked them in, and Grace sighed as she slumped into a chair, dropping her bag from the store on the floor. “Bars on the windows… think he keeps prisoners here a lot?”
“Or he’s afraid of thieves,” Tony joked as he wandered the room, checking the windows to make sure none of the bars were loose. Grumbling, he said, “All tight. No escaping this room. We’ll have to try something at dinner.”
“But he said he might not turn us over to de Velazquez,” Grace reminded him, sitting up. “Why would he not?”
He shrugged and ventured a guess. “Guapo is from a different cartel, I’d bet. If de Velazquez wants us, he wants to know why, see if the information is useful. Maybe sell us to him. Who knows?”
“Well, this just keeps getting better and better,” she grouched as she rose from the chair and stomped to the bathroom. “Mind if I use the shower first?”
“Not at all,” he told her, watching her back as she reached the bathroom. She didn’t close the door, a testimony to the intimacy they shared. She stripped quickly after turning the water on and stepped under the spray, moaning like she was having an orgasm. Tony’s cock hardened instantly at the sound.
A knock sounded on the door a few minutes after she’d climbed in the shower. He wondered why they bothered since they could unlock th
e door and walk in as they please. Which they did. Two men walked in, one carrying hangers draped with outfits for them both, the other a small knapsack Tony guessed held underthings. Neither spoke as they deposited their burdens on the bed and left, locking the door behind them.
Tony lifted the hanger with slacks and a button-up shirt, both of excellent quality, and hung them in the closet. Guapo had sent a dress up for Grace, which looked like it would fit her when he held it up. He grabbed the bag and dress and turned for the bathroom to deliver her clothes when her shopping bag caught his eye. He picked it up but the bag tore. All the items fell to the floor, and he grumbled as he laid the dress across the chair to pick them up.
When he saw the pregnancy test, his heart scampered in his chest like a rabbit being chased by a wolf. His brain ceased working for several seconds as he stared at it, lost in his fear. As his brain function returned, his outlook on life changed suddenly. If she was pregnant, he had to save her, even if it meant his own life. She had to live.
The door to the shower opened and Grace walked out wrapped in a towel. She saw him on the floor, holding the pregnancy test, and froze. He lifted it, watching her expression, and she tried to explain.
“Tony, I…um, okay.” She paused and took a deep breath, closing her eyes for a moment before continuing. “I missed taking my birth control all week. When we had sex, I wasn’t even thinking about that.”
“Do you think you’re pregnant?” he asked, his voice gruffer than usual. He cleared his throat as he rose to his full height, trying to sound less angry because he wasn’t. “Is it possible?”
Grace wore a confused expression on her face, and he assumed she couldn’t tell what he was thinking. “Um, I don’t know. My period should start tomorrow or the next day, but because I missed several pills, my body could be out of whack.”
“So you don’t know?”
Grace scoffed and threw up her hands. “How the hell would I know, Tony? We had sex last night and this morning! I bought the test out of a misguided idea of taking it just in case because it’ll drive me crazy not to know, but taking it would be stupid because it’s too early for an accurate reading.”