Rescuing Carmen, page 30
I know that voice. Panic surges within me and I try to rush past him.
Matias grabs my arm, tight enough to leave a bruise. “I found you.” Blunt, and to the point, Matias doesn’t mince words, but his eyes gleam in victory.
I take a step back as terror stabs at my heart. I tremble, fighting a rising tide of panic.
“What are you doing here?” Raw panic fills my voice. How did he find me?
I glance down the hall, but I’m too far from the seating area. When I try to rip my arm out of Matias’s grip, he whips me around, twisting my arm painfully behind my back.
Trying not to let fear paralyze me, my mind works furiously to figure out a course of action, but panic clouds my thoughts.
“I’m taking you home.” He covers my mouth with his hand and pushes me ahead of himself.
Fear paralyzes me. Not my body, but my mind. My entire body shakes and terror mounts with each step taking me away from Rafe and the safety of the others.
When Matias walks me through the kitchen, I think someone will help me. The kitchen staff must see the terror rimming my eyes, but other than strange looks, they don’t try to help. Maybe this is a common occurrence for them?
More likely, Matias paid them for their silence.
My heart hammers inside my chest as Matias leads me out the back door. I’m running out of time and options. Despite the heat, I suppress a shiver as fear spikes in my veins. In near-total panic, blind terror makes me stumble, but Matias is behind me, holding me up. Pushing me forward.
I want to scream and resist, but that’s exactly what Matias expects. Which means, it’s exactly the wrong thing to do. My legs wobble and I break out in a cold sweat as dread twists in my gut. That twisting sensation sends a wave of nausea threatening to overcome me, but I swallow down my fear.
Or try to.
Fear claws up my throat and catches in my jaws. I thought I knew what real terror was, but it’s nothing like this. Numb and in shock, my voice fails me.
Blinking against the harsh glare of the sun, it takes a moment for my eyes to adjust to the harsh light. A car peals out from a nearby parking spot and races toward us. Skidding to a stop. The tires screech, and smoke billows from the exhaust.
The hairs on the back of my neck stand up. If I get in that car…
Every instinct tells me to run, but that would only prove to my father that my loyalties no longer lie with him, and that would be signing Rosalie's death warrant.
I jerk my head side to side, dislodging Matias’s hand from my mouth.
“Let me go.” Panic fuels my voice and I try to modulate my tone.
Matias only tightens his grip.
“Get in.” Matias scowls at me.
“Why are you treating me like this?” I crane my neck to look at him, but Matias doesn’t answer. “My father would be furious if he knew you were manhandling me.”
“I very much doubt that.” Matias releases me, but blocks off any escape. His words make me cringe and I shrink back in fear.
“What are you doing?” I try to sound as indignant as possible. “You think I’m going to run?” I flinch when he raises a hand, but Matias draws his hand back as if stung.
“I think you were looking very cozy with those brutes in there.” His gaze darkens and his words fill with menace.
“I look cozy because my father told me to get close to them. How else am I to get the information he wants?” I stomp my foot and make a move to get around Matias. He crosses his arms and points to the car.
“Your father says playtime is over, Señorita.” Coarse and grating, his voice sends a chill slithering down my spine. “Get in.”
A bolt of panic hits when I realize I’m trapped. I try to hide my fear from Matias, but he’s the kind of man who feeds on fear.
“Of all the stupidest things…” I pretend to be indignant and pissed off.
Matias has been chewed out by me more times than I can count. My sharp tongue is legendary in the house, but I have a sinking suspicion that no longer holds true.
I try to act tough on the outside, but inside I’m screaming. Fear creeps up my spine and licks along my nerves. Panic seizes my brain, making it difficult, if not impossible, to think.
What’s worse is there’s no way to tell Rafe what’s happening.
Believe the lies. Mitzy’s words come back to me.
I can still salvage this. The Guardians are prepped and ready. When I don’t return to the table, it won’t take them long to know what’s happened. I have to believe they will save me. Until then, I’ll turn the lies into my version of the truth. Convince my father I’m still his dutiful daughter.
What hurts the most is there is no final goodbye with Rafe. We spent the morning in bed, making love. He promised to move heaven and earth to protect me.
I must have faith in him, but that doesn’t mean I won’t prepare for the worst.
Without hesitation—because going home is presumably what my father wants—I get into the car. Before I can buckle in, we race out of the parking lot. I close my eyes and tip my head back. A few deep breaths will help calm my nerves. I take these moments to prepare myself for the battle to come.
There’s no love lost between me and Matias. He works for my father, which means he tolerates my presence. That’s as far as things go. Which is why I don’t engage him in conversation. I literally have nothing to say to the man.
After an hour of driving, Matias and I have yet to speak. Another hour through congested traffic and we’ve yet to utter a word to each other.
Unlike Juan, who picked me up after graduation, Matias doesn’t force me through the civilian airport. Which is wise considering I have no form of identification. Or maybe that’s the weird part. Why wouldn’t Matias have brought that with him?
This time, instead of flying commercial, we head to the private terminals. I open the door myself, climb out of the car and pause on the tarmac to take in the plane. The flight’s seven hours long. Two hours to drive to the estate brings me to nine hours.
The Guardians will be three to four hours behind me. Their mission—the extraction—will take advantage of the cover of darkness. That means my father will have several hours to question me and decide whether I’m telling him the truth or not. No, not several. Two at most. I forgot about the drive from the restaurant to here.
Two hours.
That’s how much time I’ll have to play the game and convince Father I’m still on his side.
Without a look toward Matias, I take the air steps into the jet, select my usual seat in the middle, and strap myself in.
I play the irritated, but dutiful, daughter perfectly. With the exception of the pilots, no one joins us. Deciding silence is the best policy, I turn away from Matias to stare out the window.
Before too long, we roll back from the parking space and taxi toward the runway. Matias climbs out of his seat to crack open the bar. He pulls out a beer and tosses a water bottle in my lap.
“Hydrate.”
“Thank you.” I don’t care to speak to Matias, but it would be improper not to say anything. Those, however, are the last words out of my mouth during the seven-hour flight to Nicaragua.
Once on the ground, we’re met by a single SUV. I keep my head up, chin level, and march to the vehicle. Each step brings me closer to my father. Each step may be my last.
The ride to the villa takes a couple of hours, but soon the imposing walls come into view. My fear intensifies the closer we get. Adrenaline spikes, coursing through my veins, and I feel the color draining from my face.
Funny how growing up here, these walls formed the basis for the endless fantasies of a child. With no fear, I braved these walls, balancing on top of them, walking on the narrow ledges all the way around. I climbed the trellises in the courtyards to reach the parapets of whatever imaginary castle played center stage in my imagination that day.
I fought off dragons and hordes of horrific beasts. I was saved by brave princes and valorous knights in shining armor. Not once did I see those walls for what they were—a prison to keep those inside from escaping.
I lived my entire life inside a prison, never seeing it for what it was.
Rocks crunch beneath the tires as we drive into the gated motor courtyard. Once through the entrance, the iron gates close, sealing me in with real monsters.
I suppress a shudder as the car comes to a stop. Matias exits. This time, I wait for him to come around to open my door. It’s what I would normally do, and I must believe the lie that I am the doting daughter returning home after making a foolish decision to run away.
I’m properly penitent and keep my head bowed. Matias heads inside, not once looking back to see if I follow.
“Where is my father?” This is my lie. It’s the core foundation of the truths I need to twist.
“He’s in the library.”
“Good.” I slow my step and take the first turn that will take me to my father.
“Señorita…” Matias pauses. “His instructions are to take you directly to your room. Dinner will be brought to you, and he will see you later.”
“Later?” I shake my head, knowing that is definitely out of character. My hand presses against my belly as a feeling of unease overcomes me.
So far, Matias is acting like his normal, brooding self. There’s nothing about him stirring up an alarm. Most likely, he speaks the truth. My father probably does have business contacts in the library and he won’t want me barging in on that.
“He doesn’t want me to join him for dinner?”
“His instructions are quite specific.” Matias rolls his wrist and tries to hide a triumphant grin.
“Of course.” I pivot sharply and head toward my rooms. When Matias follows on my heels, I spin around to confront him. “What are you doing?”
“Seeing you to your room.”
“I don’t need to be ‘seen to my room.’ I know exactly where it is and prefer not to have you breathing down my neck. If you want to do something, send Rosalie to draw a bath for me. I’m anxious to get this Guardian filth off of me.”
“If you say so.”
“I do.” Flicking my fingers at him and ignoring his scowl, I head toward my rooms before I say, or do, the wrong thing.
Already my scalp tingles, as if there’s something terribly wrong. However, if there is something amiss, Matias would never leave me to my own devices.
No one approaches me on my way to my room. There are no guards stationed outside my door. There aren’t even guards at the crossing corridors on either side. Everything appears to be as normal as it ever was. Even my room looks the same as it’s always been.
The door shuts behind me. So far, so good. I may actually be able to pull this off. Exhausted, I go to my bed. Turning around, I fall backward until I bounce on the expensive mattress. Profound fatigue pulls at me, and I let my eyes close for just a second.
I’m home.
I lift up a prayer to the Almighty asking for him to watch over Rosalie and the poor women and girls locked up somewhere below. I pray for forgiveness that I waited so long before seeking help. I send up prayers for the men of Bravo and Charlie teams that their mission is a success.
In that sea of nothingness, I allow myself to drift and find a place of peace and serenity where I can prepare for the battle of my life.
Thirty-Eight
Carmen
“Carmen.” Someone shouts my name. “Carmen, wake up!” That feathery voice… It’s achingly familiar and terrified. “Carmen, you have to wake up.”
“Rosalie?” Sleep crusts my eyes, but I recognize my best friend’s gentle voice.
“You have to wake up.” She shakes me awake.
When I rub the sleep from my eyes, her blurry features come into view. Overwhelming joy fills me as I leap out of bed and wrap my arms around Rosalie.
Seeing Rosalie safe and sound is like a heavy weight lifting from my soul. Joy bubbles up from inside of me and happiness washes away my fear.
“I’ve missed you so much.” I hug her tight, but she hugs me tighter.
“I’ve missed you, too, my sweet friend.” Angelic and soft, her light and airy voice is the best welcome home.
“I missed you more.” We stand there for a second, holding each other, then laughter fills the room.
I squeeze her a few more times.
She squeezes me more.
I could weep for joy if not for all the rest. I’m truly happy to see my friend, but I fear for us both.
“I can’t tell you how good it is to see you. How have you been? How have things been since…” Finally, we sit on the bed. Scooting back, I draw up my legs, hugging my knees, and look at Rosalie. My heart feels whole and I dare to hope. My mood lifts seeing Rosalie.
“Since you jumped on a rope?” Rosalie arches a brow. “What were you thinking?”
“I don’t even know where to begin.” I glance up toward the corner of the room.
There aren’t any cameras in my room. Or, at least, there’s not supposed to be, but Rosalie gets the message. More likely than not, the room is bugged.
“It was total chaos that night.” Rosalie shifts on the bed, crossing her legs and resting her wrists on her knees. “I didn’t know you were gone until the next morning. I’ve been so worried.”
“It was—something.” I tuck my hair behind an ear.
Rosalie's smart enough to know when to ask questions and when not to. It’s the unfortunate reality of our existence.
“Matias told me to draw you a bath. When I got here…” She gestures toward the bed. “I figured it was best to let you sleep. But the bath is steaming, and you’ve got less than an hour to get ready.”
“Ready?”
“Your father’s summoned you.”
I don’t care to see my father, but it’s inevitable. He’s a black mark on this world. Any happiness I feel seeing Rosalie disappears with his summons. The need to tell Rosalie about everything I’ve been through rises within me, but it’s too dangerous, and that makes this all the harder as a result.
“Well, I don’t want to keep him waiting.” I scoot off the bed and head to the bathroom.
Peeling off my clothes, I test the waters of the bath. There’s no need. Rosalie draws the perfect bath. I hate that about our friendship. Because of our circumstances, she’s forced to serve me. I feel guilty as a result, but that won’t last forever. A quick glance at the clock confirms we’re little more than a few hours from freedom.
“How is my father?” I slip into the tub with a sigh.
Rosalie moves behind me to wash my hair. I prefer a shower, but if anyone’s watching us, this is what they would expect.
“It took a day, or two, after the raid for his hearing to return. The doctor said he suffered a concussion, but he appears to have recovered.”
“How mad was he?”
“About what?” She leans forward to scoop water into a cup. My eyes close as she pours the water over my hair.
“What I did?”
“I wouldn’t know. They don’t tell me such things, but he seemed more concerned than angry.”
“I lied to him.” This part of the conversation is for any silent listeners out there.
“You would never lie to your father.”
“I thought if I could find out who invaded our home then I could do something about it, but that’s not the truth.”
“Your father is your world.” Rosalie knows how I feel about my father, and she knows we’re putting on a show for our silent watchers. “He knows you would do anything for him.”
“But I didn’t.” I hang my head as Rosalie wets my hair. “I don’t want to marry Artemus. When those men attacked, I saw an out. I did it to escape and brought shame to my family’s name.”
“God forgives all.” Rosalie pauses for a moment to make the sign of the cross. Like me, she’s deeply religious. “The important thing is you’re here now. All will be forgiven.”
“Perhaps, but I don’t know about Father. He may not be as forgiving.”
“How did you get here? Did you escape?”
“I wasn’t a prisoner. They were more concerned about rescuing me. I stole a phone and called home. Papa sent Matias, and here I am.”
“Where you belong.”
“Yes. Right where I belong.”
“I’m sure your father will forgive you. In that chaos, who knows what choices a person might make?”
“I hope so.”
Rosalie and I go through the motions of getting ready. She washes my hair while I soak in the tub, then holds a towel for me as I climb out of the warm water. I wrap myself in a fluffy robe while she gets out the tools of her trade. All I do is sit in front of the mirror while she styles my hair and puts on my makeup for me.
It’s weird falling into these roles.
For four years at UCSF, I did all of this myself and I hate having to play this game with Rosalie. I hate that her worth is deemed less than mine purely by the circumstances of our births.
In less than the allotted time, my hair looks amazing. My makeup is flawless. Rosalie helps me into a loose-fitting cotton dress and I slip on casual sandals with the slightest lift in the heel. Prepped and ready, there’s only one thing left.
It’s time to face my father.
Leaning in, I hug Rosalie and whisper in her ear. “Don’t leave the room.” I don’t dare say more, but Rosalie is smart enough to figure out the message.
She knows help is coming and where she needs to be. Most importantly, she knows I’ve made a plan that includes her. Her grip on me tightens and her eyes shimmer with tears. I leave her to clean and straighten my room and make my way down to see my father. My feet drag and my heart hurts.
The urge to run overwhelms me, but I’ll never leave Rosalie behind again. The closer I get to the dining room, the more daunting everything seems.
None of this works if I don’t do my part. I’ve got a role to play. As I approach my destination, my stride lengthens. My steps become more determined. A single tug on my hair is the only thing that belies my unease. I roll my shoulders back and clasp my hands behind my back. The moment I turn the corner, however, my steps falter.
