“I won’t complain, and besides, all these people and groups are probably sleeping.” Shrugging, I stifled a yawn and backpedaled a few anemic steps. In a perfect world, I’d already be in bed, but my world was anything but perfect.
“Mexico’s drug industry and the people caught in its web never sleep. Twenty-four hours a day, three hundred sixty-five days a year, new plants are harvested, turf wars are fought, hits are ordered, sicarios kill, smugglers carry loads, burros slip undetected across the border, and innocent lives are stolen for the crime of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. But if you want to keep going, we can.”
“You’re trying to scare me.” He succeeded, but I didn’t want him to know that.
In one seamless movement, he snatched my arm and pulled my body flush against his. My heart rapid fired, pounding wildly against his chest. “Dammit, Hattie. You should be scared. Don’t let go of my hand. Don’t contradict anything I say or do. You’re my wife. We live outside D.C. Our tour group left us behind. Neither of us speaks much Spanish. We need a place to rest for a few hours,” he said, his lips a hairsbreadth from mine, the electricity that always flowed between us bursting to life.
“No way,” I yelled before I could stop myself. “I’m not saying any of that.” The idea of creating some altered reality, linking me to Ryker on some level beyond the present, scared the shit out of me. He’d already stolen enough of me. I didn’t need further sins marking my soul, severing me from my former life and the second chance I had promised Evan. Jesus…was I really planning to run back to Evan after everything? I couldn’t even begin to answer that question. I couldn’t think past ten minutes, much less weeks or months into the future. I didn’t know whether I had a future to bargain with anyway.
“Exactly. You won’t say anything. You’ll just nod as necessary.”
“I can’t do it. I don’t like telling lies. It’s not right. Let’s just rest right here for an hour, and then we can move. ”
He smiled, but it was frosty, and his gray eyes glittered with anger. “Haven’t you learned you need to listen to me if you want to survive?” He shrugged. “But if you’d prefer to wait here where someone could discover us and do god knows what, we can do that.”
My eyes widened, and I sucked in a breath. “Maybe. I’m not sure.”
His eyebrows lifted. “You make the choice. I thought you’d be more comfortable in the village, but maybe I misunderstood. If you can’t stand the idea of telling a few harmless lies, then we can take our chances out here with the snakes, the wildlife, and whoever else happens to wander by.”
Crap. He was right. He called my bluff. I couldn’t walk any more today, and I needed to get off my feet. I balled my hands into fists. “Fine, let’s go. I’ll say or not say whatever dumbass thing you want. I’ll never see these people again. It’s irrelevant.” I surrendered again, but there wasn’t any point to my objection. It had ended before it started. I had to rely on Ryker to do the right thing and make good choices. He knew it. I knew it. Believing I could navigate my way out of this maze alone was as smart as believing a pot of gold waited for me at the end of every rainbow.
Ryker chuckled softly, dragging his hand through his dark hair. “I thought so.” Ryker slipped the strap of the assault rifle over his head and leaned it against a tree. He placed a few dead branches in front of it.
“Why are you leaving it there?” I asked.
“I doubt the people in the village will roll out the welcome mat if I have an assault weapon hanging from my shoulder. Besides, it doesn’t fit with our story.”
I didn’t argue. Even though I felt safer when Ryker was armed, he was right. We couldn’t walk into the village with weapons.
Chapter Nineteen
The minute we crossed the invisible barrier marking the village, people stopped and stared from the windows, from their front porches…everywhere. Life in the village stretched to a halt. You would’ve thought a marching band had accompanied our arrival.
It was more of a town than a village. Small, adjoined white homes lined the street. A freestanding hut stood to the right with advertisements for soda painted on the crumbling light blue exterior walls. Clothes hung from clotheslines.
“Hola,” Ryker said, lifting one hand in a hesitant wave. “?Habla usted ingles?” he said to no one in particular. The words rippled through the village like a bomb. Heads turned, more people peered out their open-air windows.
After a few moments of lingering silence, a lanky man in his early twenties stepped forward. He wore dark jeans and a faded blue t-shirt. “I do,” he said, shoving his hands into his pockets.
“Hi. I’m Rick, and this is my wife, Tina.” My mouth dropped open. What the hell was he doing? Why didn’t he tell him our real names?
“I’m Roberto.”
“Nice to meet you, Roberto.” Ryker held out his hand and the man shook it. “We need your help. My wife and I were separated from our tour group. Can I borrow a phone to call our hotel?”
“I don’t know.” The man rocked back on his heels.
“We have money.” Ryker pulled out his wallet and waved five hundred pesos in front of him, which amounted to forty or fifty U.S. dollars, probably more than this guy made in a week. I cringed, imagining the entire village charging us and stealing his wallet, but I buried my doubts. I had to believe Ryker knew what to do, because I sure as hell didn’t.
“Un momento,” the man said, snatching the money from Ryker’s open palm, before slipping away into a nearby house.
My eyes darted to Ryker. He smiled, wrapped one arm around my waist and kissed the top of my head in a surprisingly intimate gesture. His touch warmed and comforted me, even though I knew he did it for our audience rather than for me. I buried my head in his chest, playing the role he demanded. Unfortunately, part of me wanted it to be more than a role.
“Here,” Roberto said, interrupting our embrace. He held out an old flip cell phone with hundreds of scratches and nicks. It looked as though Roberto had dropped his phone in the garbage disposal more than once. Hopefully, it still worked.
“Thank you.” Ryker plucked the phone from Roberto’s hand. Ryker threaded his free hand through mine and led us to the crumbling rock wall adjacent to the buildings. I trailed in his wake, too exhausted to do anything but blindly follow him, stiffness and pain settling into my joints with every step. I was dead on my feet.
“Who are you calling?” I whispered after we sat down.
“Ignacio,” Ryker responded, not looking up from the phone.
The name triggered a ripple of fear through my body. I squeezed his hand, seeking a connection to him. I didn’t want to see Ignacio or any of those other people again, but I didn’t have a choice. Ryker must have noticed my reaction because he dropped my hand and wrapped his arm around my shoulder, pulling me closer to him. He ran his hand up and down my upper arm, lulling me into a false sense of security.