Fistful of Benjamins (19 page)

I
'm losing my mind. I want my baby. What kind of monsters would snatch an innocent baby from its mother? I've done everything that they've asked. Why won't they let me and my baby go?

It's never going to happen. They are never going to let me leave.

After days of crying my eyes out, I've reached my limit.

There's no point in my carrying on. I don't want to live. I've stopped eating, but death is too slow. A year ago, I thought my father had isolated and sheltered me. Now I truly know what it's like to be a prisoner.

Tears swell and roll down my face. Disgusted, I swipe them away. I'm fucking tired of crying. I'm supposed to be tougher than this. I'm Cataleyna Rosales—a cartel princess. I'm supposed to be fearless. My father would be ashamed if he saw how easily our enemies had broken me.

And I
am
broken.

I finish mopping my eyes and realize that I have to win back my power. After all, I'm the master of my fate. I'm in control of what happens next.

I peer up at the full moon. It's a peaceful night. The stillness calls and seduces me. In death, there'll be no more pain. There will be no more tears. More importantly, I'll reunite with Julian. He's waiting for me. I'm convinced of it.

Minutes later, I dry my tears, walk from the chair by the locked window and into the adjoining bathroom where I fill the tub with hot water. On the ledge is ajar of jasmine bath beads that had been a gift from my abductors. I've been given a lot of gifts for reasons I fail to understand. They are probably from Carlos, even though he has yet to show his face. Tomas does all of the dirty work.

When the tub is filled, I shut off the water. Standing, I walk over to the bathroom counter and pick up the hand mirror from the vanity tray. I take one look at my reflection and don't recognize the gaunt, melancholy woman staring back. Turning, I head back to the tub with the mirror in hand, strip, and climb inside. As I ease into it, I block out the sting of the hot water. I take the mirror and smash it against the ledge. The glass shatters onto the marbled floor.

I pick up a large shard and then slash my wrists. The pain is instant, but I don't cry out. Blood streams into the water. Calm, I ease back against the tub and wait for death.

A minute later, there's a crash from the bedroom and then the slap of feet running toward the bathroom.

“What did you do?”
Tomas thunders.

A pair of strong arms dives into the tub.

“No! No!
No!
” I pound my bloody arms against his chest.

He struggles to get a firm hold. “Stop it.
Stop it!
”

“Leave me alone,” I wail. “I want to die!” I fight until he loses his grip and drops me.

I bang my head on the tub's ledge and slip underwater.

Tomas snatches me back up and hauls my limp body out of the bathroom.

Weak, I renew my fight. “Please,” I beg. “Let me die.”

“It's not going to happen,” he growls.

But it is happening. I'm slipping away.

“Y
ou know her?”

“She's kind of hard to forget,” Jimmy laughs. “Cataleyna Rosales. She used to come around here all the time—like you.” He cocks his head as if snapping the pieces of the puzzle together. “
Ahhh
. I get it now. You two had a little weekly rendezvous thing here at the hotel. I gotcha. I gotcha. So you found her then?”

What did you do with Cataleyna?
Salazar had asked.

“Found her?”

“Yeah.” Jimmy pauses to think back. “Months ago her father sent an army to comb the whole damn town. I don't know if she ran away or was kidnapped. Hell, I didn't even know that she was a cartel princess when she was hanging out here. Goes to show that you never really know about people. You know what I mean?”

I nod.

“Anyway, I know it was a big deal around here for a while. There was some huge massacre out at that big compound north of here. A lot of people in town say the Zetas were behind that shit, others say that it was the Vazquez brothers of Columbia. And some say she just ran off. So which was it?”

Vazquez.
The name sounds familiar.

“Sir?”

“Hmm?”

“Which was it? I mean they
did
find her, right?”

I don't know what to tell him.

Jimmy pales as if he realized he's been talking too much. “Oh wait, man. If that's your girl, I'm sorry. I—I didn't mean anything by it. I—I was—”

“It's all right.” I drain my drink. “Hit me again.” I don't want him to stop talking.

“Yes—yes, sir.” Jimmy refreshes my drink.

“The cartel. Tell me what you know about them.”

“Which one?” Jimmy chuckles.

“All of them.”

 

Hours later, I hike up to my room with my head buzzing. I know what I must do now: Find Cataleyna Rosales. She must be still missing. Why else was that Salazar guy still looking for her? Her disappearance lines up with my washing up on the Playa del Carmen shore. I was there that night she went missing. I'm sure of it.

I hop off the elevator and rush to Amalia's room, excited to share everything I've learned tonight. Again, she doesn't answer the door. After knocking for a full minute, I give up and resign to wait for a more appropriate hour.

Stumbling into my room, I collapse onto the bed, hoping to get at least an hour of sleep. As soon as I close my eyes, Cataleyna appears in her smoldering red beaded gown. There's a group of women who giggle and laugh around her. I want to walk over and touch her, kiss her, but I can't. I watch her move as if she's floating on air and when she laughs, it's pure music.

That vision stays with me until I open my eyes an hour later and spot my door creeping open.
What in the hell
? A silencer-capped gun takes aim.

I bolt to my left, rolling off the bed as the intruder taps the trigger.

One of the bed pillows spit up feathers.

I scramble across the floor to the bag for my gun. The door bursts open and I return fire, forcing my attackers to take cover.

When they shoot back, I tuck and roll to the room's desk before four bullets punch into the floor and desk.

Moving on instinct, I advance to the other side of the desk and fire with deadly precision.

Two bodies drop dead.

Stunned, I stand and creep toward the hit men who now have identical bullet holes in the center of their foreheads.

“Holy shit.” I don't know whether to be proud or repulsed by what I've done, but I do know that I have to get the hell out of here.

I grab the duffel bag and Cataleyna's picture from the bed. At the door, I tense at hearing voices in the hallway. I look around to see if there's another way out.

No such luck.

“Fuck it.” I rush into the hallway with my gun in hand. People gasp and scramble into the rooms. I stop and bang on Amalia's door.

No answer.

“Amalia, open up!” I pound on the door again.

Where the fuck is she? Heads peek out of the rooms again. I can't wait around here any longer. I race off. Taking the stairs, I fly down eight flights. When I rush into the lobby, I damn near run straight into the police. Dropping my head, I tuck my weapon beneath my shirt and make a beeline for the front door.

Out on the sidewalk, I hang a left and keep it moving.

Police sirens and flashing lights barrel down the street. I tuck and hide my face until the cop cars pass. After that, I take off running—not knowing where in the hell I'm going.

“D
amn!” I slam down the phone and suck in an angry breath. Once I get hold of myself, I lift my gaze to a nameless foot soldier standing by the door. “Bring me the girl.”

“Yes, boss.” The soldier speeds out of the room.

I power over to the bar and pour a drink.

“Let go of me!
Let go!”

I down the drink and then quickly pour another one.

“You're making a big mistake, Rosales. You can't keep me here.”

“Calm down, Señora Vega.” I wheel around to face her. “No one is going to hurt you. You're a guest.”

“Where I come from people don't lock up guests overnight. That's called kidnapping.”

“You say tomato and I say
tomahto
. You came to me, remember?”

“For the reward.”

“I'm not in the habit of handing out twenty-five million dollars to every stranger with a wild story. I had to check you out.”

Ms. Vega straightens her shoulders. “And?”

“So far your story checks out,
but
I'm going to need for you to bring him in. Seems my men missed him this morning.”

“What do you mean?”

Instead of answering the question, I roll across the room to a wall of bookshelves. I move one book and then the whole thing slides to the right to reveal my safe.

“Like I was saying,” I continue, grabbing stacks of cash. “If you want the reward money, you bring him to me.”

She hesitates. “How do I know that you'll fulfill your end of the bargain?”

“You don't.”

“And
that's
a problem.” She folds her arms. “I don't trust you.”

“That makes you a smart woman,” I say. “But this is a onetime offer. You'll get nothing if I have to get him myself.”

We engage in a long staring contest. Despite my half-paralyzed face and slight slur, I still get my point across. “You already tried to bring him in,” she says.

“That's where you are wrong. I didn't try to bring in. I tried to kill him. There's a difference.”

She fidgets nervously, but eyeballs the stacks of cash.

“Don't worry. It's not your affair. You're here for the reward money, right?”

She pauses again. “Right.”

“Tell you what . . . I'll give you half upfront: twelve and a half million dollars. The rest when you deliver him. Deal?”

Pause. “Deal.”

I
float in a space and time unfamiliar to me. I want to languish here forever away from the pain and misery that has become my life. I'm safe. Protected. Is this death—a dark, numb and soundless paradise?

Disappointment pricks my heart. I'd hoped to see Julian's loving face again—maybe even my mom's or dad's. How many times have I wondered if he was dead since he hasn't rescued me? Don't think about that. It doesn't matter. Nothing matters anymore. Not since those monsters stole my baby.

My sweet baby.
I didn't even have a chance to see her face or give her a name.

Bit by bit the shards of my broken heart tear me apart. In a snap, my dark safe haven transforms into another private hell. The pain comes rushing back and so do the voices around me.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid, girl,” a man growls over me. “What the hell did you think you were doing? You can't die. I'm not going to let you. Not after the hell I went through to get you here. Not after what it's cost me.”

Groggy, I peel open my eyes. Everything is still hazy. I blink, but my vision refuses to focus.

“You can forget it.” He paces beside the bed. “You're never going to get out of this compound. You'll never see that kid again.” He stops and bends over me until our faces are inches apart. “You'll die when I say that you can die and not a
second
sooner. Do you hear me?”

I groan, weakly twisting away. He grabs hold of my chin and forces our gazes to meet.

“Good. We understand each other.” He reaches up and gently streams his fingers through my hair. “You're still a very beautiful woman. Maybe if you soften your heart a little . . . ?”

In horror, I choke on a sob.

He stands. “Fine. Have it your way.” He strolls toward the door. “But you'll come around—eventually.” He looks up. “Maria, watch her. Make sure that she doesn't do anything
else
foolish.”

“Yes, Señor.”

He storms out of the room.

I look down at my bandaged wrists and more tears flood my eyes.

“Señorita, why do you insist on angering him?” Maria asks.

Tears swell. I turn my face into my pillow and sob.

Maria pats me on the head. “There. There. Everything is going to be all right.”

No it isn't. Nothing will ever be all right ever again.

C
asita de Maya is crawling with cops. I don't dare risk going back in there. Right now I have to figure out how to find my client. I keep calling his cell but the calls go straight to voicemail. I can't give up on my twenty-five million dollar man. I come through Main Street and even take a few trips to the shadier side of town.

No luck.

“C'mon. C'mon. Where are you?” Then like a mirage, he appears in front of me, crossing the crosswalk toward a jewelry shop. “Julian!” I power down the window and shout again. “Julian!”

Cagily, he glances over his shoulder. When he spots me, he rushes over and climbs into the car. “Where in the hell have you been?”

“Looking for you!”

“I went to your room several times and you never answered the door. Two dudes broke into my room and tried to kill me.”

“I'm starting to lose count how many people have it out for you.”

He shakes his head but he doesn't press me any further. “We have to go to Cartagena,” he says suddenly.

“Cartagena? Columbia? Why?”

“I think that's where Cataleyna is being held.”

“Where? Who? What?”

“Cataleyna Rosales.” He reaches into his back pocket and removes a photo. “This is Cataleyna and she's my fiancée. She's also a cartel princess that has been kidnapped by her father's rivals, the Vazquez brothers. They own and control a lot of territory, but they're originally from Cartagena. I'm willing to bet that's where they've taken her.”

“Do you have your memory back?”

“No.”

“Then how do you know all of this?”

“Jimmy the bartender. I talked to him for hours. He remembered me. Said I was a regular at the hotel and usually went by the name Tony Montana.”

“You sound crazy right now.”

“I'm not crazy!”

I stare at him. “How about this, we go and see a friend of mine?”

“No. We don't have time for that. You need to call your pilot friend and see if he can take us to Cartagena.”

I laugh—but he doesn't. “You
have
to be joking.”

“You don't understand. I've been dreaming about this woman since I woke up in the hospital. I believe I was there the night she was taken. I
have
to find her. And if you won't help me then you can drop me off up at the corner and we can go our separate ways.”

“Are you in?” he asks.

“Of course. Sure,” I tell him. My gaze cuts to the rearview mirror and I spot a Benz that I'm almost certain that has been following me since I left Vicente Rosales
.
What a tangled web I've weaved.

“Call him now,” he urges. He's not going to take no for an answer.

I grab my cell phone and call Marcus. At first he laughs, then we haggle and then we strike a deal. Now I have to get word to Vicente Rosales before I end up on his hit list.