“Stop!” a man’s voice orders.
I don’t obey.
Cold metal is pressed against my head and I still. I know without seeing there is a gun resting on my temple.
“Get her inside,” the same voice commands, and once again, I am scooped up and thrown over someone’s shoulder.
My mind races. I still don’t know how long I was knocked out from the gas station. I don’t know how long I spent alone after that. I don’t know what day it is. More so, I don’t know if I’m still in North Carolina. Hell, I don’t even know if I’m still in the United States.
Once inside, I’m tossed to a hard chair. I can sense two men, one on each side of me. My wrists are cut free yet immediately grabbed from either side and tied to the back of the chair. My shoulders burn from the awkward angle, just as they cut my ankles free and tie them to each front leg of the chair.
It takes two grown men to handle me, I think to myself. Well, they damn sure better be ready when the Hellions come.
“Your brother has made many enemies on his rise.” The voice sounds like the man is on my left.
My brother … What does Julio have to do with anything? His rise to what?
The feel of cold metal tracing my neck puts me on edge. Biting hard on my gag, I try to ignore the blade of the knife tickling my skin in warning.
“The thing is, we can do whatever we want to you, and your older brother can’t get here in enough time to save you.”
The weight of the blade pressing down causes me to hold my breath. The knife pierces my skin, and blood trickles down my neck, but I can tell it’s not deep.
This is a warning.
“Take the pic. Send it to Natera.”
I swallow my fear. I refuse to cry in front of these men. I will not give them any more power over me than they already have. I drop my head.
It’s time to endure.
I close my eyes and let my mind be free.
The sensation of the wind against my arms is exhilarating.
I scoot closer to Ruben, my legs wrapped around him as he drives.
The Sportster is small. Its purpose is to teach Ruby to ride. The single seat left no room for me. However, this won’t stop me from riding with my man.
I climbed behind him proudly. Wrapping my legs around him, my calves rested against the gas tank as I secured myself Indian-style around my man.
Holding tight, I lean into him as we go down the open road.
“Ride with me, Vida. Ride with me for life,” Ruben calls out as he twists the throttle, pushing us to go faster.
I squeeze him. “Always, Ruby. Me and you, always.”
Oh, how I wish we were on that bike right now, on the open road. Instead, I’m in a room, tied to a chair, helpless as the man beside me cuts my clothes away.
Shame fills me as I am left naked in this chair within a room filled with I don’t know how many.
Silently, I send up a prayer that Ruben will come soon. Please don’t let them violate me.
The blade is sharp against my collarbone as he cuts me once more. I inhale sharply. It burns, but it’s not deep. I can’t help feeling like a pawn in a game I don’t know the rules to. I wish my brother were here to explain why this is even happening.
The blade starts at my temple under the blindfold, the burn moving down my face as it separates my skin. My cheek is on fire as the knife is then placed against my shoulder. Twisting and driving in, he continues to twirl the tip into my body. Deeper and deeper, it goes.
I bite against my gag and fight back tears. The burn, the pain, the emotions, and being stuck have me wondering if I will survive this.
“Julio, you should drop the debt so that your beautiful sister here can live,” the sharp voice from earlier says as the blade moves down my arm, splitting my skin as it makes its path.
My brother is into something bad. How did he get so deep and not tell us?
There’s one thing I learned early in life: never trust a man by word alone. Will these men keep their word? If Julio does what they ask, will they release me?
As the cold blade runs over my exposed breasts, bile rises in my throat, and I fight to swallow it down against my gag. Coughing, I choke. My lips ache from being held open, my arms are numb, and my legs tingle from spending too much time unmoving.
My captor trails the knife down to my stomach. Instinctively, I sit straight up, exposing more of my skin.
“Oh, the stretch marks of pregnancy.” He jabs the knife into one of my scars. “How many babies have you had, mamá?” he mocks me as he nicks open each change of my skin. “Uno?”
My stretch marks are a sign of the times my children grew inside me. He’s counting them and cutting each one, changing their meaning forever.
Anger builds as my adrenaline pitches higher and higher with each slice of his blade. He is taking my signs of life and killing each one maliciously.
I’m barely holding on. I don’t know how much more I can endure.
Life and Death
An hour passes, but it feels like a lifetime. Needing to have the connection to Jenna, I am with my kids on the couch in the apartment adjoining mine where Boomer and Pam have been set up. RJ is on the floor, playing with his cars, while Maritza sits beside him with her drawing pad in hand, and Mariella is on my lap.
Maritza speaks first. “Booma says we’re gonna camp here tonight.”
I look up at my bearded brother and give him a silent nod in thanks. My kids are none the wiser to the situation we are facing. Jenna is a firm believer in kids are meant to be kids. She doesn’t want our children to have to grow up too fast like it seems to happen so often in the world today.
From the moment we found out we were pregnant the first time, she laid down the law that adult problems were just that—adult problems. She has done her best over the years, making sure our children don’t feel the stress or struggles we have had to endure in order to provide. No matter how angry she got with me, she would refrain until we were alone to avoid making a scene in front of the kids if she could help it. Sometimes, I pushed too hard, and well, shit happened.
Suddenly, the light bulb goes off, and I have this new clarity. For however long now, I have begrudged my wife for changing. But did she really change, or is she being the best damn mom ever? Her fire isn’t gone; she simply holds back, because our kids deserve better. Her focus has been them, and I’m the selfish bastard who couldn’t see straight. God, I miss my wife.
“Mami needs a night off,” Mariella adds. “Ms. Pami called her and left a message not to worry about us. She told Mami to look at the stars tonight so we could talk about what we see in the night sky while we’re camping.” She lifts up a tiny notepad. “I’m going to draw them for you both. Maritza and I already talked about it. We have a plan.” Our daughter beams up at me, and my heart breaks inside.
At least for the night, they can have a normal evening. I don’t know what the future holds for us, but they can have this. Camping in the backyard here will be safe. No one who isn’t a patched Hellion is making it past the gate of the compound.
“I think she will like knowing what you see tonight.”
Maritza comes over and sits beside me. “Papi, there won’t be, like, bugs in our tent, right?”
“We’ll squash the bugs for you, Ritza,” Wesson, one of Pam’s boys, pipes in, giving my daughter the reassurance she needs to go outside. She hates bugs and spiders, so this camping thing will be an adventure.
Watching my children get ready for their night out, I can’t help hoping and praying that we can somehow find their mother by morning.
After spending some time with them while Boomer sets the tents up, I go back to my place. Waiting is not something I have ever been good at, and tonight is no different. Having had too much time to think and worry, I reach for my phone.
Julio answers on the second ring, his tone sharp. “No time to talk, Ruben.”
“Better make time, amigo.”
“Or what?” he
replies.
“Fucker, I don’t know what kind of shit you have brought my family into. At this point, I don’t really give a shit other than to know where my wife is so I can bring her home. You need to start talking before my club and I make our way down to you and make you start talking.”
“Don’t threaten me, Ruben. We’ve always been on the same side. Don’t make that change.”
Rage fills me. If he were here right this minute, I would choke the life right out of him.
“Some of your associates drove up on my wife at a gas station. They hit her in the back of the head, knocking her out, Julio. Since we got her out of your father’s house, no one, NO ONE, has put their hands on her in harm until your people got to her. Yours! I don’t give one fuck about what side you’re on. I want to know who these fuckers are so I can rain down the pain and bring my wife home.”
He laughs into the phone, and everything inside me runs cold.
“I don’t need you and your club to handle my situation. Just sit tight, and I’ll have my sister home to you shortly.” There is a pause. “That is, if she still wants to come home to you. Ruben, you sure like to throw around the words ‘wife’ and ‘family,’ but you know, it wasn’t too long ago you didn’t want her or that anymore.”
“Fuck you!” I cannot believe he’s throwing low blows at me right now when Jenna has been taken.
“Like I said, sit tight. I’ll handle it.”
How in the hell can he think for one second I would sit tight?
“Julio, you’re in Mexico. It’s only been three hours since they took her. Give up the information so we can get to her”—I pause and quiet my tone—“before it’s too late.”
“I’ve got power, Ruben. I’ve got connections now. I’ve got this handled.” Those are the last words Julio says before the phone goes silent.
Once again, he leaves me helpless.
Ego and pride come before the fall. Only, the person losing the most won’t be Julio. It will be me and my children.
She’s my life. Slowly, I’m dying inside from not being able to help her. I want to ride out into the night, but I have nowhere to go. Nothing is known.
How do I fight an unknown enemy? How do I track my wife, my life, to an unknown location and face an unknown threat?
The thought of what she’s facing kills me. She’s my life, and all of the unknowns are a slow death inside me. Her life hangs in the balance, as does my death. We made a commitment to be one. I may have lost my way for a while, but I see clearly now.
We are one … until death do us part.
Hold strong, Vida. I’m going to find you.
After a few laughs shared amongst the men, the cutting stops. The sounds of retreating footsteps echo around me before silence becomes my comfort.
My body aches, my skin burns, and the bleeding slows and dries in trails down my broken body. I feel gross. My only saving grace right now is that I haven’t been raped.
Yet.
Ruby, please come and find me. In my mind, I beg my husband to figure out where I am. I am exhausted. Time has lapsed once again, and I don’t know how long I have been gone. Adrenaline and fear are the only things pushing me right now.
Julio is in over his head in something. What, though? We sent money until he sent it back and told me to stop. We talk to him regularly. After his prison time and deportation, I never would have imagined he would get into more trouble. Then again, some people stick to what they know, and what my brother knows is trouble. I can’t say he is the type of guy trouble just finds. No, Julio seeks it out like a drug.
He has never used drugs. Sold them, yes. Gotten high, no. He gets off on the rush of getting caught, the power of being in charge. His addiction is the thrill of doing wrong and somehow making it right in his mind.
The man’s instruction to drop the debt replays in my mind. My freedom is a trade. If Julio doesn’t give in, these men will kill me. Regardless, my death is the only thing I feel is certain.
I bite on the gag and let my tears fall as I think of my children. I think of the many milestones ahead. I think of my girls, my two girls who look just like me and act like Ruben. They are young, too young to be able to remember me. I think of their confirmation dresses for church. I think of their quinceañeras and who will help them find just the right dress. Who will be there to do their hair and place the tiara just right? Who will make the food? We live in America now, so who will plan the parties for them just right? When they get their first real, diamond-studded earrings from Ruben, will he know how to put them in so they don’t pinch their ears?
Who will be there to teach my niño, my Ruben Junior, how to treat a woman when the time comes? Who will be there to hug him and tell him it’s okay to cry even if he is a boy? Who will chase away all the whores who try to hold him back in life too early? The way a man grows and treats his mother is a sure sign of his treatment of his wife. What happens if I’m not there to guide my little boy into becoming a man who honors and treasures women?
Then my father comes to my mind. He was taught wrong. He abused his wife and his children. I do not want that for my son. Ruben will set a good example of what a man should become, but RJ still needs the guidance and input of his mother.
I scream against my gag. My heart shatters at the thought of missing even one day with my children. In my mind, the agony of what I could lose is worse than any physical pain these men could put me through.
Will Ruben move on? Will some other woman be Mrs. Castillo? Will she be good to my children? Will she have children of her own? Will he tell my kids about me? Will they keep my memory alive?
No, no, no, Jenna, you cannot go down this road, I tell myself mentally. I did not make it out of my father’s hell and the poverty of Mexico just to end up dying naked, tied to a chair. I came to America to have a better life, which means I must live.
I will live.
I will be there to watch my son play in his first baseball game. I will be there to watch Mariella win the school spelling bee championship. I will be there to fix Maritza’s hair for her middle school dance. Dammit, I will be there for it all.
I’m not signing shit, because I will be the one and only Mrs. Ruben Castillo. There will be no substitute for me with my children. There will be no missed opportunities, no lost memories. No, I don’t care what they do to me, and no matter what Julio does or does not do, I will live.
For my babies and for my man, I will get out of this.
I tug and pull against the ties on the chair, only cutting into my skin. The pain merely drives me more. If I can feel, then I am alive, and living is what I have to do until Ruben and the Hellions can find me.
Wrong
Just before dawn, Frisco enters my duplex, and the smirk on his face is one that gives me relief. He has information. Finally, we have something.
I jump up without saying a word.
“What do we know?” I ask immediately.
Tank is grabbing his phone and sending a text when Roundman steps inside behind Frisco.
“They have her in the old shopping center downtown. We hacked into phone records for Julio and traced the number that called in between times of him talking to you, and apparently, he tried to call Jenna before she was attacked.”
“When I get my hands on him—”
“Let’s get your woman first. Then we’ll handle your brother-in-law,” Roundman instructs.
I nod my head.
The four of us make our way outside, helmets and bike keys in hand. Making a stop at the cave, we arm ourselves. I’m anxious as we stand around. Then, one by one, my brothers file in, and I realize sermon has been called.
The boys make their way to their spots, and I am shocked to find some of the Catawba Hellions present. It appears as though Tripp, Rex, and Shooter have all made the drive straight here once they got the news. This is family.
While my brother-in-law plays games with the life of his sister, my brothers in the club are ready to ride out and br
ing her home.
After a quick briefing, we climb on our bikes and pull out. We ride two by two, only feet separating us from one another. One wrong move from any of us would risk us all going down.
Seeing Boomer to my right, I nod my appreciation. I know his ol’ lady Pam will keep the kids safe in their tents. If the situation were reversed, I would want to be beside my brother to bring his woman home.
We make the drive to the old shopping center downtown. What was once a thriving home improvement store is now an empty warehouse. When the mall was built, all the chain stores moved to a better location and all the old buildings have been left behind to rot.
Pulling into the back, we don’t hide our presence. Part of me wonders if this is a bad thing. It is my wife who is trapped inside at the mercy of some unknown enemy. Nevertheless, Roundman and Frisco have all the information, and I trust their insight and decisions.
Once Danza yanks the crowbar off the front of his bike and pops the back door open, we each pull out our Glocks then walk in like we own the damn place.
The back space is wide open with concrete floors that are cracked and uneven. My eyes adjust to the darkness just in time to see a single chair off to the side.
In the dim light from the door, I can make out the naked form of my wife, gagged and bleeding, tied to a chair. Blindfolded, her head is up and moving around, and I can see her chest rising and falling heavily as she breathes and probably tries to sort out who is here. The dried blood covering her has me concerned for her injuries and infections.
Immediately, I call out, “Vida,” and run to her. Emotions overwhelm me as I forget everything and everyone around us. Jenna is alive.
She is whimpering and twisting around as I reach her. The other twelve Hellions who made the ride with us move through the building, looking for the guys who have held her, while I focus on my wife.
Heated Ride: Hellions Motorcycle Club (The Hellions Ride Series Book 7) Page 11