The mattress dipped under Ryker’s weight as he stretched out beside me. I braced for his touch, but it never happened. Gratitude and disappointment collided inside of my heart, confusing me even more. I funneled my anger toward him, tossing silent accusations in his direction from the safety of my cocooned mind and shuttered eyes. And yet, he didn’t notice. Like a seductive menace, he lazed next to me, unmoved and uncaring, his very presence stealing my air and safety.
“Sleep,” he said after few minutes, his voice hypnotic in its intensity, musical in its beauty. “You need to rest.”
Minutes stretched into an hour or more as I drifted in the world somewhere between sleep and wakefulness, neither state fully claiming me, because I was too busy drowning in the murky waters of regret and self-loathing. A life preserver couldn’t save me at this point. I’d need a coast guard fleet.
Then, it started.
Feather soft touches along my face.
Whispered fingertips along my arms.
A soft humming.
And, like magic, oblivion claimed me.
Chapter Thirteen
A draft of cool air roamed over my skin when the blanket lifted from my body. Instantly alert, I cracked one eyelid. Moonlight filtered into the room, casting eerie shadows on the stucco walls.
Ryker lifted his shirt over his head and dropped it on the floor, revealing smooth, golden skin. Funny, I had sex with Ryker, but I never saw him naked. I didn’t even know if he had hair on his chest. He didn’t. He had a faint line of hair starting beneath his navel and disappearing under the waistband of his swim trunks. Apparently, he planned to go swimming and leave me in his room.
I closed my eyes again, partly because I didn’t want him to realize I was awake, and partly because I wanted to shut him out of my mind and my life. His feet shuffled over the floor, and then I finally heard the sound I was waiting for…the click of the door. I was alone in his bedroom.
I stalled for several long minutes to see if he’d return. The deafening silence of the room and villa echoed unnaturally in my ears. In fact, I could almost hear the tropical wind as it caressed the trees outside the window. Cautiously, I sat up, taking in the luxurious surroundings. I hardly noticed them when Ryker carried me here hours ago, but their warmth seemed strangely out of place given what little I knew of the Vargas Cartel. For some reason, I thought the decorations should reflect the ruthless nature of its inhabitants.
I ran my hand over the cut on my neck. It still throbbed, but less than when it happened. And that was a blessing, because I intended to seize my moment of freedom and disappear into the night.
Tightening my robe around my waist, I walked to the bathroom in search of my shoes and my dress. I scooped up the wet, shredded dress from the tile floor, and I slipped on my sandals. I shuddered envisioning roaming the wilderness wearing it. I’d prefer being stark naked. I ripped a strip of material from the hem, balled up the dress, and tossed it in the direction of the trashcan under the floating travertine countertop.
Using the torn fabric, I crafted a headband to keep my hair out of my eyes. Normally, I liked the way my long bangs framed my face, but I needed to see every detail if I planned to outthink and outrun Ryker and his band of merry murderers.
Stalking back into the bedroom, I flung open Ryker’s dresser drawer, tossing clothes on the floor until I found something suitable to wear. I slipped on a plain, black t-shirt and a pair of gym shorts with a drawstring. As much as I hated to take anything linking me to him, I’d wear Ryker’s clothes if it meant I’d have a chance to escape. And that faint spicy, sea salt scent lingering on his clothes could go fuck itself.
Once I had clothes to wear, I searched the entire contents of his dresser looking for a weapon. Not finding anything in his dresser, I moved to his nightstand. Except for a lone Bible, the nightstand was empty. The irony of finding a Bible in his nightstand didn’t escape me.
Maybe Ryker spent his nights confessing his lengthy list of sins as he recited verses of forgiveness. Momentarily defeated, I sat down on the bed. I needed something useful. My mind rattled through the options: a knife, a bat, a metal closet rod—and then I remembered my dad kept a gun tucked in the side rails of his bed frame.
Sliding to the floor on all fours, I ran my hand along the side of the mattress. Bingo. Cautiously, I pulled the gun from its hiding place. A Glock 26. I pumped my free arm in the air. Thank you, Dad, for making me take a gun safety course before I went to college.
Clenching the gun in one hand, I pointed the barrel toward the corner, making sure to keep my finger away from the trigger guard. I didn’t need to shoot myself in the foot. Ryker would probably let me bleed to death. I pressed the magazine release button and pulled out the magazine. Yes. It was my lucky day. The gun was loaded. I slid the magazine back into the gun and stood up. Showtime.
With as little noise as possible, I turned the doorknob, and inch-by-painfully-slow-inch I cracked the door open. When I didn’t hear anything, I slipped out the door with my back pressed to the wall.
The plaster walls were humid and sticky, sweating against my skin and clothes as I slunk through the hallway. My ears strained, processing and interpreting every creak, shift, and murmur in the otherwise unnaturally silent villa.
Then, I heard hushed voices. At least two men hovered near the end of the hallway, speaking Spanish. Not for the first time, I cursed myself for not continuing with my Spanish classes after high school. I closed my eyes concentrating on the words, but they blurred together. I heard Senator Deveron’s name and the word hijo, which meant son. Other than that, I couldn’t decipher anything.
I tried to keep my breathing slow and quiet, but my heart had a mind of its own. It thudded wildly in my chest, and my mind flew through my options. None of them were good. I could sneak back into Ryker’s room and let fate take its course, or I could wait until the men relocated to another room…or found me. Ryker’s words about Ignacio being a businessman first and selling me into the sex trade floated through my mind, and I shivered. Fuck no. I couldn’t stay here. I had a chance to escape, and I needed to seize it with both hands.
Pointing the gun toward the end of the hall, I remained flush against the wall. Sweat coated my hairline, and my entire body shook so hard, I had to support the gun with both hands to keep it steady. Time crawled, and just when I thought my heart fully intended to burst in my chest, the voices faded then disappeared entirely. My feet whispered down the corridor, simulating a delicate ballet prance.
One step.
Two more steps.
Five steps.
I counted every step, feeding off the power and control each one offered.
When I reached the end of the hall, I peeked around the corner. Empty. Thank God. Finally, some luck had flipped in my favor. I didn’t hesitate for one more second. Leading with my gun, I tiptoed into the vaulted living room.