by LP Lovell
I lean on the desk. "We both know that me and my daughter are on borrowed time. I'm not stupid. We serve a purpose, we're collateral right now, but the second this goes on too long, we will serve as a message," I say. He tilts his head to the side and smirks. "I love Jude, but Cayla is my child. There is nothing I wouldn't sacrifice for her."
“Hmm.” His eyes flash as his gaze crawls over my body, "What do you propose?"
"I can lead you to Jude. You can send men to kill him, and in exchange, let me and my daughter go."
"You would betray the man who loves you?"
"I would sacrifice him for her," I say. Ronan was right, this is the only way.
He sits, silently smoking on his cigar as he studies me. "No," he says. One word that sends my heart galloping through my chest because this is it. This is the plan and it's all I have. "You are too much of a risk, Victoria Pearson."
"I swear, I will never breathe a word of this. Why would I when you can just find me and kill me?"
He props his cigar on the edge of the ashtray. "Normally, I would say yes, but you..." he points at me, "are still wanted by the FBI. They are looking for you, and I don't like that. It's too dangerous."
Trying to think fast, I rub my hand over my forehead. Something. Anything. "Then send Cayla away…to my sister. My sister knows nothing of this world. Send Cayla to her. I'll lead you to Jude. Kill me. Kill him. Just let my baby go." I lock eyes with him, hoping there's just a trace of humanity left in this monstrous man. "Please," I beg, knowing he can hear the desperation in my voice.
My heart pounds, my head swimming in a dizzying heat. He takes a deep breath and leans back in his chair, steepling his fingers together. "I will consider your proposition. It would be a shame to kill you though, chiquita," he purrs. I close my eyes, taking a steadying breath through my nose before my eyes flash open, my gaze crashing against his.
"As long as my daughter is safe..." I leave the words hanging in the air. The thought of what he’s asking of me sends a wave of disgust crawling through me. The simple fact is I can survive anything as long as I know Cayla is alive and safe.
Jesús stands, brushing his shirt off as he rounds the desk. With each step he takes, my pulse thumps harder. I don't want him anywhere near me. He stops in front of me and I push to my feet, not wanting to be lower than him and at a disadvantage. He grabs my face and drags me closer to him. His fingers grip my jaw with such force I can’t help but whimper. I clench my fists, allowing my nails to cut into my palm in a bid to stop myself from pushing him away. For Cayla. This is for Cayla. His cigar-laced breath fans over my face and I suddenly feel ill. Closing my eyes, I swallow heavily as his lips brush mine. I don't move, just simply stay put. Submissive to him because this is what he wants. His fingers dig harder into my face as his tongue brushes against my lips.
"You can do better than this, Victoria," he purrs. "I thought you wanted your daughter to live."
Hot tears prick my eyes, but I force them down and part my lips to allow his tongue inside my mouth. I feel soiled and dirty in the worst way as the guilt of what I’m doing to Jude gnaws away at my gut. Jesús finally pulls away from me, laughing before he brings his lips to my ear.
"I can see why your bookie likes you so much. I may just take you up on your offer, maybe make him watch me take you right before I kill him." He bites my earlobe and I flinch away.
The second he releases his hold on my jaw, I back towards the door. He folds his arms over his chest, a satisfied smile on his face as he watches my leave. "I do so look forward to our next little chat, Victoria," he says.
I yank the door open and stumble out into the hallway, tears of shame falling as I make my way back through his house and to my daughter. If this is what I must do, then I will pay the price a thousand times over for a mother’s love knows no bounds.
37
Jude
My head throbs with each beat of my heart. I’m burning up. I toss and turn, completely aware of my sweat-soaked shirt clinging to my chest. After a moment of fighting it, I slowly open my eyes and a bright halogen light causes me to slam them closed again. I can hear someone whistling the theme song to The Andy Griffith Show, and I just want them to shut up. I’m dazed as shit.
Rolling onto my side, I open my eyes again and am staring right at a set of fucking iron bars. I sit up so fast my head spins and I grab the edge of the ratty cot I'm sitting on to keep from toppling to the piss-stained concrete floor. The air is thick and stagnant with a sweltering heat. I’m in a motherfucking Mexican jail cell. "What the fuck?" I shout, my voice booming around the small space.
The whistling stops and footsteps echo down the hallway. "Hola, mi amigo," the voice says, laughing. A large man stops in front of my cell. His brown uniform is soaked with sweat and his face glistens. "Mi amigo..."
"Hablo Inglés." I stand up and cross the cell, grabbing the bars.
"Si..." He clears his throat. "You're the trouble maker,” he chuckles, and I swear to god if I could reach through these bars and choke him, I would.
"Why the hell am I in here?"
"Gabriel, he says you have an ugly temper." He frowns. "Said he had to drug you. Dragged your ass in here like a dead horse." I clench my jaw and grit my teeth. "No worries...you'll only be here for a day or so. Gabriel said this was the only way to keep you from fucking his shit up." He shrugs. "Said to tell you he's sorry, ese." A quick grin dances over his lips.
My heart feels like it's going to pound right out of my fucking chest. I cannot believe Gabe would put me in here. Shit...I grip the bars so hard my knuckles ache. What the actual hell am I going to do? I shove away from the bars and pace.
"Hey, you want something to eat?" the guard asks. "I've got pimento cheese and turkey, some fucking Spam."
"No, I'm good, thanks." I shove my hand in my pocket for my cell phone, but it’s fucking gone. “Damn it, Gabriel.”
The guard looks at me. “Oh, you want your cell phone? It’s on the charger. Gabriel said to make sure it stayed charged, said you were expecting a call or something.” I glare at him. “Don’t worry. If it rings, I’ll bring it to you.” He disappears from sight.
When he comes back, he’s toting a metal Hulk lunchbox. He pulls out a Ziploc bag, opens it, and takes a bite of a sandwich. "So, Gabriel, he says you're corredor de apuestas, man, you are the reason the Sinaloa made so much money." He shakes his head. "You are a legend." He takes another bite before holding the sandwich out. "Sure you don't want some? Pimento cheese is the best." I sit down on the cot and stare at him. "Anyway," he says through a mouth full of food, "Gabriel says you and he are friends. Gabriel's cool, man, I like him. He scares the shit outta me, but I like him..."
I flop back on the cot and groan because I have a feeling this guy is never going to shut the fuck up and it looks like I’m stuck here until Gabriel decides to get his head out of his ass.
38
Tor
A loud knock on my door wakes me from a dead sleep. I sit up just as the door flies open and a man with a gun steps in. Panic rips through me and I dive over Cayla, protecting her with my body. She barely stirs from sleep.
"Come with me," the man says impatiently. I glance over my shoulder and he glares.
I slowly crawl out of the bed, careful not to disturb Cayla. I don't like leaving her, but better she remains here in this bed than come with me to whatever this is. As I walk down the hallway, my mind whirs through the possibilities. It's the middle of the night. What if Jesús has summoned me? There's only one thing a man calls a woman for in the middle of the night. Oh god. I press my hand against my stomach, trying to calm it. I'm shown to Jesús’ office door and then the man steps back, gesturing for me to go inside.
When I open the door, Jesús’ eyes snap up to meet mine momentarily before he glances down at the laptop on the desk in front of him. "She is here," he says.
"Ah, good." I recognize that Russian accent, the arrogant drawl. Why is Ronan calling Jesus?
"Vict
oria come here," Jesús says.
I round the desk and he pulls his chair out, patting his thigh. Swallowing, I lower myself onto his lap. His hand lands on my hip and I go rigid tense. The computer screen is pulled up to a pixelated video call. The fuzz on the screen slowly disappears and I’m staring at the image of a man wearing a fine suit, his red tie perfectly knotted at his throat. His face is chiseled, his jaw and cheek bones prominent. Dark hair is swept back with a slight, natural quip. He looks so young, not much older than Jude and myself. For some reason, I expected a man with so much power to be older. Ronan smiles at me through the screen, and I can’t help but think he would be handsome if it weren't for his icy hardness. His blue eyes are so hard and calculating, they make me tremble just looking at them.
"I see you are enjoying your little guest, Jesús," Ronan says.
"Do you know this man?" Jesús asks, ignoring Ronan's comment. I hesitate. Should I say that I do?
"It’s okay, Victoria. You can tell him," Ronan says, leaning back in his chair.
"I've spoken to him on the phone," I say.
"You see, Jesús,” Ronan claps his hands together, a pleased smile on his face, “I sent her to you."
Jesús exhales a long breath. "Your reach never fails to impress, Cole,” he mumbles, his hand rubbing slowly over my thigh. "So, now you can tell me what you want."
"I called to give you some information."
"And why would you do that, Russian?" Jesús asks, his tone bored.
"I want something you have, and you want something I have. It is the way the world spins and—"
"What do you want?"
"Cocaine. I want your cocaine. I'll cut you in fifteen percent," Ronan says.
Jesús laughs. "Twenty-five."
"Eighteen and not a cent more!" Ronan says sternly.
"Twenty," he says slowly, shifting forward in his chair.
"Trust me,” Ronan laughs, "what I have to offer you is worth far more than two percent..."
"Talón de quemar Ruso." He mumbles. “Nineteen. Final offer.”
"Done."
"What is it you have that you think is of such worth?"
"Oh, you'll like this. " Ronan grins, taking a long puff on his cigar. "I know who turned Domingo over. I know who your rat is."
My heart seizes in my chest and the panic must be written all over my face. "Who?" Jesús growls, his fingers flinching into my hip. There's a pause, a tension that ripples through the air like a wave rising high above the waterline.
"Jude Pearson," Ronan says and the wave crashes down, dragging me underneath the cold, murky depths. I close my eyes, my body going rigid as I wait for Jesús to react. I hear Ronan’s low chuckle echoing through the speakers. "Oh, and just so you know, Andrea is dead. I am sorry, Victoria. It's just business," Ronan says before he hangs up.
Jesús’ rapid breaths rustle against my ear. I can literally feel his heart pounding through his chest and against my back. His fingers tighten painfully on my hip before he shoves me out of his lap. I shoot up and whirl around just as he launches out of his chair, trapping me against the desk. His entire body bristles with tension. He grabs my hair, yanking my head back so hard that I wince in pain.
"Did you know about this?" he snarls like a rabid dog, angry and ready to attack.
"I thought... " I swallow hard. "I thought you knew about Jude and Domingo," I whisper. "I thought that was why you took Cayla, why you wanted Jude dead."
He snorts. "I wanted your bookie dead because he's making the Juárez cartel too much money, giving them too much power. Domingo wanted to use your kid, use you to blackmail Jude into killing Gabriel Estrada. But now..."
"Why involve us?" I shout. "Why not just kill Gabriel?"
He lifts a brow, flashing me a dangerous expression. "Cartel bosses do not kill each other. But now...now I might make an exception because the Juárez are working with a fucking rat, and I will kill every one of them!" His eyes search mine as he inches his face closer. He nips at my jaw, sending a warm breath over my neck. I recoil from his touch. "You wanted to buy your daughter’s freedom,” he says, nodding. “You have a deal, chiquita. Your daughter’s freedom for Jude Pearson's life."
Cayla for Jude. Isn't that what he wanted anyway? For a moment, the thought of Jude consumes me. I remember his smile, his kisses, the way he touches me, the way his voice softens only for me or Cayla. My hardened, ruthless man who is kind only for me. The man who broke me and fixed me at the same time. The man who made me stronger than I could ever hope to be. But am I strong enough to survive his loss? I must be, for our daughter. "Done," I whisper.
He leans in, his lips brushing mine as he speaks. "I want him to know that you sold him out. I want him to die with a broken heart knowing that I'm going to take you, chiquita." His lips press against mine and I can't help the tear that escapes and falls down my cheek. Jesús grips my jaw, roughly turning my face to the side. "Tears will do nothing. I like it when you cry." He laughs as he swipes his tongue over my cheek..
I feel like I sold my soul to the devil, but what mother wouldn't in my position? My body is nothing. This is nothing. Cayla is everything.
Jesús hands me a phone. "Call your sister. Tell her to meet my men at the El Paso border crossing in twenty-four hours’ time." He grabs my waist and lifts me up, placing me on his desk before he sits in front of me.
My legs are shaking and my heart is racing so fast I feel like I'm going to throw up. I lift the phone, typing out my sister’s number and praying she hasn't changed it. "Hello," she answers.
"Lizzy," I say quietly. Silence greets me. "Liz?"
"Ria?" she whispers.
I want to ask her how she is, how her life is, but I can't. "I need..." I take a deep breath. "I need a favour from you."
"Ria, I haven't heard from you for over two years and now you call me up and want a favour?"
"I need you to look after my baby. I'm in trouble. I need her to be safe..." There’s nothing but silence and my heart falls to my stomach.
"Ria, come home—"
"I can't, Liz!" I snap. "Just listen to me. I need you to go to El Paso, to the border crossing. There you will meet with some men. They will give you my daughter. Her name is Cayla. Please, please look after her. Promise me. She's all I have, just…promise me you’ll look after her." I fight the sob choking me, the pain twisting in my chest. I fight it all. I wish I could tell Lizzy just how desperate this situation is, but I can't. I only hope that she'll do this for me.
"What the hell, Ria?"
"Please!" I plead desperately.
"Okay. I'll…I’ll book a flight now."
Jesús hands me a piece of paper and I read her a set of coordinates and a time. "Thank you." I swallow around the lump in my throat. “Thank you…”
"When will I see you?" she asks. "You're coming back for her, right?"
I drop my chin to my chest. "No. I can't. Promise me she'll never go a day without knowing how loved she is." I swipe at the tears escaping my eyes.
"Ria..."
"I have to go. I love you." I hang up, staring at the phone in my hand.
"You're breaking my heart," Jesús says as he pushes to his feet. He steps between my thighs and trails his fingers over my cheek.
"Do you have one?" I say it as an insult, but he just laughs.
"Maybe. Now...you are going to call Jude Pearson and tell him you got Cayla out. Tell him Camilla helped you. He'll believe it." He reaches for a piece of paper and scrawls something across it. "Tell him to meet Camilla here." He hands me the paper. God, this is really it. I'm setting Jude up and the guilt, the treachery is eating me alive.
My fingers shake as I dial Jude's number and place the phone to my ear. Jesús takes a piece of my hair, twirling it around his finger as the phone rings.
"Yeah?" It only takes that one word for me to hear the agitation in Jude’s voice.
"Jude," I breathe.
There's a long pause. "Where the fuck are you?"
"I'
m with Cayla."
"You have her? She's alright?"
I swallow hard. "I don't have long. I'm sending her to you." I have never hated myself more than I do in this moment as I use the promise of our own child to lure him to his death.
"Tor...what did you do to get her?"
"Camilla is helping me. She’s Gabriel’s sister just…just meet her," I force the words out and my stomach churns violently. I give him the address written on the piece of paper along with a time to meet. "Just... I love you."
"What did you—"
I can’t do anymore. I hang up the phone, and the second I do, I cry. Jesús wraps his arms around me. I want to shove him away from me, but I don't. I can't. After everything I’ve endured in my life, my spirit has finally been broken because I just led the man I love to a certain death. "This will all be over soon, chiquita," he says.
Cayla will be safe. I can't think of anything else.
39
Jude
She hung up.
“I need outta here!” I shout, my voice echoing around the cell. I immediately try Gabriel’s number but he doesn’t pick up and his voicemail is full. “I need outta here. I need to go get my daughter. DO you fucking hear me?”
I hear keys jangling, footsteps coming down the corridor. “You alright in there, amigo?” David, the guard that never shuts up, shouts from down the hallway.
“I need fucking out.”
He comes wobbling into view, stopping in front of the bars to peer into my cell. “Gabriel said he’d be back to get you soon.”
“I’ve tried calling Gabriel countless times over the past two days and he won’t fucking answer.”
David shrugs. “He knows your pissed, amigo.” The thought of Gabe drugging my ass and having me hauled off to this shithole burns me up. I grab my phone, jabbing angrily over the keys to dial his number again.