“I know. And I’m sorry for that too.”
A moment passed before he said, “Thank you.”
That was the most we talked about it. Another incident swept away. Not because there wasn’t more to say, because there was, I mean the god damn coffee creamer actually worked. I had opened my mouth to say something about that, then closed it, thinking it in poor taste considering what had happened.
It didn’t matter because in the next instance I looked at the rear-view mirror again and saw flashing lights far behind us. It almost looked like a mirage in the sun-soaked haze of the road.
“Oh shit,” I swore.
Gus twisted in his seat and looked behind him. “Double shit. They’ll be with the Zetas.” He eyed me nervously. “Do you want me to drive?”
I gripped the wheel tighter and gunned it.
“I think I’ve got this.”
The chase was on.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
ELLIE
The trek through the jungle didn’t take as long as I imagined it would but it felt a hell of a lot longer with the tension between Javier and I. Burt Reynolds led the way, a chatty Kathy to Peter behind him, while I was sandwiched behind Raul in front, Javier in back. I could feel his damn eyes on me the whole time, burning holes at my back, at the tattoo on my leg. As childish as it was for me to enjoy rubbing it in, that Camden left his mark, it also made me worry for him. Javier was nothing if not jealous and unpredictable. I was doing all of this to protect Camden but I had to wonder if I was putting him in danger all the same.
Aside from being awkward, the ride was unbearably sweaty and uncomfortable, horsehair sticking to my legs, mosquitos feasting on every bare inch of me. Howler monkeys added to the hostility, hurling animal obscenities from hidden spots in the trees above. The tiny seaside hamlet of Montepio seemed like a godsend after that.
Javier handed over a wad of US bills to Burt Reynolds who eagerly took it from him, stuffing it away in various pockets like a squirrel. Raul helped me off Churro much to my dismay, especially since his hands seemed to linger a bit around my ass.
I swatted him away under the guise of wiping off horsehair and glared at him. Javier was watching us over Burt’s shoulder, cold and calculating, but I didn’t care. I just wanted to be someplace air-conditioned, a cold drink in hand. To be honest, I think I wanted to be back on the boat. Captive or not, it was the only place I’d been able to get a routine going since I’d left Palm Valley for the first time.
We handed the horses to Burt who attached them all together in a long line and led them back into the jungle.
“Now what?” I asked Javier, hands on my hips. The four of us were standing on a cobblestoned street corner and getting some pretty curious looks from bare-footed children who were walking past.
Javier looked to Raul and Peter, completely ignoring me. “There’s a car waiting for us around the corner from here. It will take us to Alvarado. We have a house there, disguised as a fish shop. I’m afraid it might smell a bit but that’s as far as we can get to Veracruz without causing trouble. At least, not right away.”
I could have sworn that last bit was directed at me.
We followed Javier down the street, past the faded signs of small shops and businesses, past the group of kids who were hiding behind a phone booth and peering at us with gap-toothed grins, past a produce stand where an owner and a customer were in a showdown over the price of bananas. It was such a scene of old Mexico but as I followed Javier and his men, all in their sharp suits, striding confidently, easily, through this tiny town, I had to wonder how far reaching the cartels were. Was there nowhere in the country left untouched? Would the children on the street have to come home to a murdered father or mother, as Javier did? The place he described growing up didn’t seem too much different from this place.
Sympathy for the devil, I thought. It crept up on me more and more.
The car was a Range Rover, at least ten years old with a dented fender. It was tough and fast enough to get us around but it didn’t look like the vehicle that a drug cartel rode around in. Just your everyday quasi-Mexican family going out for a drive, nothing to see here.
Javier checked something on his phone and then pulled a key out of his breast pocket. He opened the door and unlocked the rest of them.
Then he turned and looked at me for the first time in hours. “You’re riding in the front. With me.”
My heart clanged in my chest. I forced a smile to hide my nervousness. “Sure.”
I climbed in and was surprised at how high tech it looked inside. GPS, mp3, the works. “Nice,” I commented, feeling like I had to say something.
Javier started the car and knocked on his window. “Bullet-proof glass. I made sure this was totally outfitted. Piece of shit from the outside, a fortress inside.”
“Like the Popemobile.”