Chapter 33

33

Bea

H ow long will the oxygen last?

Bea’s breaths came as shallow pants. There wasn’t enough air left. She wasn’t getting enough oxygen into her lungs.

“Hey,” Thorne said, his voice low and calm. As if they weren’t tied down, each in their own chair, in the middle of a shipping container. “Breathe slow and deep. We’ve got plenty of air.”

Bea heard what he wasn’t saying. Air is the least of our problems. She forced herself to do as he said. There was so much she wanted to say, so many questions she wanted to ask, but she didn’t dare open her mouth. Because she knew Emiliano, and he wouldn’t be far away, not now that he’d found her again.

Speak of the devil.

Emiliano and Roberts walked in, carefully shutting the door behind them. Suddenly, the container seemed a lot smaller. Roberts was calm, but Emiliano’s face was an angry mask.

“Relax, Emiliano.”

“Relax? Easy for you to say, Roberts.”

“Oscar Aguilar was a danger to our operation. Sooner or later, he would have double-crossed you.”

Aguilar. Something has happened.

Emiliano sighed. “I guess you won’t be marrying Oscar after all, florecilla ,” he said. “Miguel killed him. Then one of Oscar’s men killed Miguel. Idiots. You just can’t trust anyone anymore.”

“Sit down, Emiliano,” Roberts said, pointing to the ridiculous-looking velvet sofa lining one end of the container. “Make yourself at home.”

Emiliano ignored him. Bea could feel him, standing right behind her, his hot breath falling on her neck. “That means we saved your virginity for nothing, Beatriz. But not to worry, I’m planning on enjoying it now.” His meaty hand closed around her hair, pulling her head back. “I’m going to fuck you. I’m going to fuck that warm, tight pussy raw. I’m going to?—”

Bea’s scalp burned, but her anger was stronger, far more raw. “You’re too late,” she spat out. “You won’t be the first man inside me.”

Emiliano turned so he was standing in front of her, one hand still wrapped painfully around her hair, tight enough that she felt he might pull it out by the roots. His other hand was closed into a fist, and she readied herself for the blow, because she was done .

She was done cowering.

She was done being afraid.

As her uncle raised his fist towards her, there came a loud, hearty laugh.

“Oh, this is rich. Seriously. You couldn’t make this shit up,” the man across from her said, then started laughing again. For a moment, Bea feared he’d lost his grip on reality. It took her a long instant to realize Emiliano had released her hair.

“What did you say, cabrón ?”

Thorne kept laughing, hard enough that tears rolled down his cheeks. Bea glared at him, as if she could drive some sense into him.

Be quiet. Look down. Stay alive.

But he kept laughing and laughing, until Bea suddenly realized what he was doing. He hadn’t lost his mind. He was goading Emiliano—goading Emiliano to take the man’s attention away from her.

Emiliano turned and slammed his fist into Thorne’s jaw. “You think this is funny? Let’s see how hard you laugh when you’ve lost all your teeth.”

Roberts made a tsking sound with his tongue. “We don’t have time for this, Emiliano,” he said blandly.

Her Uncle’s fist fell on Thorne’s face again.

Bea cried out.

“Don’t worry, florecilla, ” Emiliano said. “I will be right with you. This will only take me a few minutes.”