I was angry. So angry that my breath wouldn’t leave my lungs. It took all my concentration to calm down, to start breathing in and out of my nose. Why did she have to choose this of all things?

“Luisa, please,” I told her, hoping she could see the truth. “You will die. He will take you in on pride but you are nothing to him. Do you hear me? Nothing! You will last a week or two, and then he will kill you. And before that, you know what he’s going to do to you. He—” I broke off, unable to finish the sentence. I couldn’t even let myself think about it, but it was there, poking around in my brain. The sound of Salvador’s voice, the fear I’d seen in Luisa’s eyes, the brutality he’d proven he was capable of.

“And I will handle him as I handled him before,” she said, almost proud. “This is the only way. At least I can say I gave it a shot. One more shot at life, as pathetic as it may be. And you? You only have to lose your precious pride among your workers here. The rest of the world may laugh at your faulty security, but I’m sure it will be something they’ll soon forget. To Mexico, your cartel is still one to be reckoned with and your pride will remain intact. And you, Javier Bernal, will continue on as you had before. In a week, you won’t remember me.”

But she had to know, had to realize, how hard this was for me, too. If she did though, perhaps she didn’t quite care.

“All right,” I said, nodding at her. “If this is what you want, I can tell the others the plan. They won’t like it, but they won’t be able to do anything about it.”

“Thank you,” she said. She smiled at me with the strength of a million breaking hearts. It was the saddest thing I’d ever seen, and I’d seen a lot of sad things in my lifetime, things that would chase me to the grave.

And that’s when I knew, with nothing but a smile, my Luisa, my queen, had broken me.

CHAPTER TWENTY

Luisa

I slept alone that night. In fact, I spent most of the day alone as well. After I learned the news and after I had came up with my own horrid plan, Javier told his comrades about what we were to do. They didn’t take it well, as I figured. Este was pissed off like a whiny boy and even Juanito gazed upon Javier with an air of disrespect. I had to say, as much as I mocked him for his foolish pride, there was a moment where I felt almost sorry for him.

The Doctor seemed to take it worst of all. In that calm, cynical, monstrous way, he berated Javier in every way he could. He called him weak. Soft. Pussy-whipped. He talked about me as if I wasn’t even in the room, but those lewd insults about how well of a fuck I must be, well they meant nothing. All I cared about was putting my plan into action.

And, eventually, that’s what happened. Javier lost face among his men but they would protect the cartel as a whole. I would be let go. The next day, Juanito would take me to Culiacan. I would look like I had just escaped from somewhere. I would have a story to tell. And then I would hope for the best.

I knew Javier wasn’t happy with my choice—I wasn’t happy either. I was actually so scared that I’d grown numb. I didn’t let myself think about what might happen to me, I just knew it had to be done. My chances for survival were extremely low. My chances for vile abuse, torment, and torture were extremely high. Either way, I was in for a lot of pain.

But like I had done all week, I put that on the back burner. I tried to appreciate the last day I had in that house that, in the dying sun, became only golden and not a prison at all. I wished I had Javier by my side, but he was ignoring me, avoiding me. I knew it was for the best. I knew that if I was with him, in his bed, that it would make leaving even worse.

It’s not even that Javier and I were lovers. We weren’t really anything you could explain. What relationship we did have was fucked up beyond reasoning. It made no sense for me to feel more than just attraction to a man like him, and yet I did. I shouldn’t have let my emotions excuse the things he’d done, the person he was, but again, I did.

I should have been grateful that he didn’t kill me, that it wasn’t even an option to him. A week ago, I would have been certain he’d take my head off, and with glee. Now he was willing to take a hit to his ego, not just to resist killing me but to actually let me go. Not to mention actually let me go through with a plan that I, his hostage, had initiated.

And yet I still wished for more. I wanted him to ask me to stay again. I wanted him to protest just a little bit more. There could be other ways around all this. He could go and take my parents somewhere safe and then keep me here as his. I would gladly stay. There might have not been any love in this house, but it was better than a house of hate.

I couldn’t find the words. I didn’t see the point. It should have been enough that he did, finally, see me as a human being. It’s just that being a human being meant I also wanted what I couldn’t have.

Him.

The next morning, after a fitful sleep, I was awakened by a knock and Este bringing me my breakfast. He was one of the last people I wanted to see.

“Thought you deserved this in bed, since it’s your last meal with us and all,” he said, shutting the door behind him with his foot and bringing the tray to the bedside table. He shot me a sidelong glance. “It’s only because you’re leaving that I can trust you not to bash me over the head with the bowl of fruit or something.”

I didn’t smile, I merely stared at him.

“No jokes today, hey?” he asked with a shrug. He sat down on the end of the bed, and I instinctively drew my feet toward me. “You know, Luisa, I think we may have gotten off on the wrong foot here. But I just wanted you to know, I like you.”

I grimaced. “Is that supposed to be a good thing?”

“It’s not anything,” Este said. “I can see how Javier is so obsessed with you.”

“Obsessed?” This was news to me.

“Don’t be too flattered,” he said wryly. “Javier gets obsessed easily. Though it doesn’t happen very often with women. Considering the way things have gone for him in the past and his devotion to building an empire, I’m actually surprised at the way things have turned out.”

“But you’re unhappy about it,” I said.

“I am. I think he’s letting his feelings for you cloud his judgment. But things could be worse.”

Feelings for me? I wanted to ask him to elaborate, to tell me more. But I realized how damn inappropriate that was, considering my dire circumstances, and internally chastised my heart for even skipping a beat.

Este studied my face. “Just so you know,” he said carefully, a knowing look in his eyes, “his feelings for you only mean that he’s not killing you. That’s all. You can’t get much more than that out of him. It’s like getting blood from a stone.”

“I know,” I said quickly. “I never figured otherwise.”

He nodded and patted the bed. “Good. Well, I suppose I should be off. I hope all of this is worth it, you know. You could just as easily disappear and get a new identity, a new life, a new everything.”

I shook my head. “I couldn’t do that. I have a conscience.”

“And that will be the death of you,” he said. “Juanito will come up and get you in an hour. It’s a long drive, as you know.” He got up and paused, as if remembering something. “Oh, and sorry again about Tasering you.”

I stared at him coldly. “Really? I’m still thinking about hitting you in the head with this tray, just because.”

He grinned. “I figured as much.”

He opened the door.

“Esteban,” I called after him. “Could you please send Javier up here?”

His face twisted doubtfully. “I’ll try.”

The door shut and I waited. When the hour ticked closer, I put on my dress and my running shoes, the only things I would be pretending I escaped in. I would have nothing else. No money, no ID, nothing. I stared at my face in the mirror. I wondered if Salvador would see the horror in my eyes and mistake it for where I had been, not where I was going. I hoped so.