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Even still, I’ll keep on trying.
Mari might want to get away—but I’m going to make sure she stays right here, with me, for as long as I need her.
9
MARI
Hector doesn’t answer my calls.
That’s not like him.
We’re not exactly best friends, but at least he picks up and texts back. For the next week, ever since those two creeps were hanging around the hotel, Hector does his very best to ignore me.
He takes sick days and doesn’t come to work. My messages are like screaming into the wind. He’s a black hole. Once, out of desperation, I even knock on the door of his apartment. I’m pretty sure I hear someone inside, but he doesn’t answer.
My meticulously laid plans feel like they’re unraveling.
It’s fucked and I don’t get it.
Nerves eat at me until Thursday rolls around. Hector’s still not in and I feel like a crazy person hovering around the kitchen even after the dishwasher told me he’s not scheduled to show up. I paid him all that money—every dime I could spare—and now he’s ghosting. No word from his guy on my fake papers, no mention of the car, not a single peep.
My entire future hinges on Hector coming through.
What am I going to do if he flakes?
Or worse, what if he’s hurt?
I know what my family is like. I know what they’re capable of. I can still smell blood and fear and hear screams of pain every time I close my eyes.
I’m intimately familiar with what happens when you cross the Escalante Cartel.
Only I was careful. I was so, so careful, and Hector said he was too. He said he understood the risks, understood what I was asking him to do, and he didn’t care. The guy would give me that screwy grin of his, call me skinny, laugh and joke, take my money, and act like it was no big deal.
Now I’m starting to think I never should’ve approached him in the first place.
How am I going to live with myself if it happens again?
I’m lost in thought when Bass shows up. He appears in front of me, frowning like he’s seeing me for the first time. Sara has to elbow me in the ribs before I notice him looming there like the world’s most beautiful and annoyed statue.
“Apologies, Mr. Bass. The usual room?”
“Please.” God, that voice should be illegal. The man should wear a damn muzzle or be forced to use sign language. But then again, I know what his hands can do, and they’re much worse.
“You know the way.” I smile as I hand him the key card.
He holds onto my fingers and doesn’t let me go. His eyes are hard and there’s no joy in his expression, only a grim resignation. “Come to my room later.”
I swear it’s like a punch to the face. I almost laugh, the idea is so stupid.
“No, thanks. I wore normal underwear tonight.” I hiss the words at him so Sara can’t hear. Luckily, she’s on the phone with another guest.
“It isn’t about that.”
“Why else would you want me in your room, huh? You weren’t interested in seeing me last week.”
His mouth twitches like I kicked him in the shin. “Please, Mari. It’s important. Last week was…” He trails off, jaw tightening. “I don’t beg often and I won’t ask nicely a second time. I need you in my room later tonight.”
Well, shit.
