Chapter 31

31

Bea

E miliano’s first slap slammed Bea’s head sideways. His second slap split her lip. Blood, metallic and salty, filled her mouth. She barely felt it. The pain was nothing compared to her fear.

“You’ve gotten fat,” her uncle said, looking at her with distaste. “You’re going to have to slim down.”

Probably because I’ve been eating. He must have read the defiance in her eyes. He slapped her again.

Bea’s eyes watered, but she didn’t make a sound. She knew he liked the sound of people’s fear, and she wouldn’t give him that pleasure.

She looked down at the sturdy, metallic chair she was sitting on. Her hands had been duct taped to the arms of the chair, tightly enough that she wouldn’t be going anywhere, unless she was able to bring the chair with her.

She looked around the room. There were several desks piled on one side, but most of the space was empty. It looked like an unused office space but smelled faintly of oil and exhaust. There was only one door—one way out.

Emiliano circled like a shark, then paused, making a show of sniffing the surrounding air. “I can smell him on you. You let him touch you.”

And Bea knew she should keep her eyes down. She could almost hear Rogue’s voice in her head, telling her what to do.

Look down and stay alive.

But it was too much.

For too long, she’d lived in fear of what Emiliano would do. She’d let him control everything about her existence, from what she ate, to when she slept, how long she worked out … her entire existence, determined by this man.

Never again.

“I like it when he touches me, Emiliano,” she said, looking up into his sunken eyes.

Emiliano’s beady eyes narrowed. “ Eres una zorra,” he hissed. You’re a whore.

His hand clenched into a fist, and Bea knew the next time he struck her it wouldn’t be with an open-hand slap. But she wasn’t a whore. Nothing Emiliano said or did would take away from what she and Rogue had shared.

Rogue.

She prayed he was okay. She knew he would do everything he could to find her. But he didn’t realize there was a traitor in the DEA. A man who’d spent years misleading them, secretly working with Emiliano.

She wished she’d had the chance to warn Rogue. She wished she’d had the chance to say goodbye—the chance to explain to him how she really felt, to tell him that she wanted her new life to be with him . But it was too late now for that kind of thought. A tear rolled down her cheeks. Whatever happened, she just had to pray Rogue would be okay when it was over.

Veins popped on the side of Emiliano’s face. His nostrils flared. Anger transformed his face into a mask of hatred.

Suddenly, the door opened. Bea’s heart soared, until she recognized Agent Roberts. He was still wearing the same elegant suit. The white shirt peeking out from under the jacket was perfectly pressed, making her wonder if he’d found the time to change. There were two bulges on either side of his hips. The gun and the stun gun.

If she could get her hands on one of those?—

What would you do? You’ve never held a gun before. You have no idea how they work.

Roberts seemed to have no difficulty reading Emiliano. “Come on, Emiliano. We don’t have time for this now. Half of Interpol is out looking for you, and the other half is out looking for her.”

“Keeping them away is your job, Roberts, isn’t it? It’s a job you’re being paid handsomely to do if I remember correctly.”

Roberts scoffed. “I’m doing my best here, Emiliano, but I’m not a miracle worker. I told you to stay in Colombia. I told you it wasn’t the right time to come here.”

“I’m not leaving without her. I will deliver her to Oscar Aguilar and save my reputation.”

“Fine. You can trust me, Emiliano. Didn’t I bring her to you, like I said I would?”

“You did,” Emiliano acknowledged.

Roberts nodded. “Then listen to me. We need to get you out of here and into the harbor. You’re going to go home, using the same channel your drugs use to get in.”

The same channel. A container. Roberts was planning on smuggling them out in a container. No. She couldn’t—wouldn’t—go back to Colombia. If it came to it, she would rather take her chances in the water.