“Where is she Caleb?” Rafiq’s tone was anger, tempered with restraint. Caleb knew it well. It was the tone Rafiq had adopted whenever he spoke to Caleb in the beginning, when he had been a difficult boy. He didn’t like it, not one bit.
It was early evening and the girl was still missing. She could be hundreds of miles away by now. Why the fuck had he let her go? It wasn’t like him to be so impulsive, or stupid. Though lately, he wasn’t so sure. First he had failed to secure his weapon. Then he’d let her loose in the middle of the night. And now, he’d set unknown factors into play.
“I don’t know where she is Rafiq. If I knew, I would be collecting her now.”
“Would you?” The question held very strong implications. When had Rafiq started to doubt him? When had Caleb ever given him cause? The answer to both questions was of course now.
So Caleb replied with the same tempered anger and restraint, “I understand how important she is, Rafiq. I know why I’m here.”
To destroy Vladek. He felt mildly detached. Where and when had he lost that objective?
When had his focus wavered? Strangely, he didn’t feel guilty. Already, he was thinking, they could find another way to Vladek. Necessity was the master of invention. Still, he didn’t know why he’d let her go. He’d known she was nearby, perhaps hiding with the bartender, the biker’s body language had told him as much. So, why? Why was he suddenly risking so much when he stood to gain nothing and lose everything?
“I would usually agree Caleb,” Rafiq said softly. “But you’re also not in the habit of making mistakes, let alone of this magnitude. Have you forgotten so easily what I’ve done for you? I found you. I took you in. I helped you become the man your enemies fear. Do you need to be reminded of where you would be without my interference?” Caleb’s jaw clenched hard.
“No, of course not.” It was also impossible for Caleb to forget that Rafiq was so fond of reminding him. “May I also remind you that it is me who kills for you?” He had meant it to sound like a threat, but it came off as a strange plea. As if from a child to a parent. There was a long silence on the other end of the line and the longer it stretched on, the more uneasy Caleb became. “I’ve failed you Rafiq. I’ll make it right.” Somehow he’d find a way.
“I’m sorry I doubted you khoya,” Rafiq replied, voice softening, “I know how much you have sacrificed. It is only…”
“I understand Rafiq.” He paused, briefly. “I’ll let you know the moment I find her.” Caleb hung up before anything else could be said. He needed to think and the longer he spoke to Rafiq, the more he thought about the wrong things though he had no clue what the right things would be. He’d never been one to grapple with slight differences.
Caleb pressed his fingers to his forehead and tried to alleviate some of the pressure there.
Was he betraying the one person he trusted? The heavy reality was finally settling in. Who was he all of a sudden? Certainly not a man of his word.
Anger rose like bile within his chest. It was her. Ever since he had laid eyes on her she had caused him nothing but confusion and conflict. He had allowed himself to feel…something. And she had repaid him by pointing his own gun at his face. His fingers touched upon the left side of his face. It still stung, in more ways than one. He pushed at his cheek, wanting to feel the tight, itchy burn just beneath the surface. He should find her. Bring her back. Take control of her and in the process him. Is that the only reason you want her back? He thought of her soft supple body pressed against his, her arm wrapped around his midsection.
He’d let her go, he’d done it through his own stupidity, but he’d let her go. And all he could think about was that she hadn’t even looked back. She’d just run away…from him.
He almost didn’t want to find her, but he couldn’t stop until he did. He wasn’t going to fail again.
Focus and objectivity replaced the unease and confusion. It was time to pay a visit to the bartender.
• • •
After Caleb had left the bar I had refused to move from my hiding space beneath the counter
for over an hour. At least I thought it had been that long, my sense of time was probably way off.
What had to amount to weeks of being held hostage in a dark room would do that. Finally, the behemoth of a man who called himself Tiny had hoisted me up by my arm and shook me until I stopped my hysterics.
When I’d calmed down, I’d asked, “Why are you helping me?”
He just frowned at me. “Because you look like you could use a lot of help. And you’re American.”
He’d led me outside where the bartender, Javier, was waiting in an old, rusted, baby blue pickup of indeterminate origin. I was scared to get in the truck. I didn’t know where they planned on taking me, or what they planned to do with me once they had me where they wanted me. I only knew Tiny had told me I’d be safe and he’d help me. If there’d been more options I would’ve gotten as far away from the dirty biker as possible. The fact was this: I didn’t have better options, and he knew that. So I got in the truck We only drove for about fifteen minutes before we pulled up to a small concrete shack. Shit.
My fear never subsided, it even went up a few notches but as I looked around, I forced myself to keep looking, watching. Ready to run. Chicken wire surrounded the structure and indeed a few chickens were walking about, pecking at random feed strewn across the dirt. The air was thick with the smell of heat and animal excrement. Still, there was a ‘homey’ feeling to old run-down building. There was a child’s tricycle lying on its side next to the house, one of the chickens was pecking at the torn seat.
“What are we doing here?” I asked. I felt stupid, but hopeful. Hopeful we’d be leaving for the border soon. For a miracle or an intervention by God. I’d settle for a phone. I was hoping on a lot, and on a stranger. I was tired of meeting new people.
“We need to get you a change of clothes. Plus Javier has a phone we can use to make our arrangements.”
I felt triumphant over the existence of a phone, but then the rest of his words had set in, “What arrangements?” The sense of unease I felt—doubled. Dread quickly sunk in.
Tiny snorted, “Like they say darlin’: ass, grass, or cash, no one rides for free. And since you ain’t got no grass and I prefer cash to ass…I think you know where I’m going with this.”
My heart jumped into overdrive, thumping loud staccato beats in my ear: boom-boom-boom.
“How much cash are we talking about?” I didn’t want to confess how fucking broke my family was. I certainly didn’t want to have to pay in ass.
“Pretty little thing like you? I’d say you’re worth at least a hundred grand to somebody.” I almost threw up from the sharp twist in my stomach at his words. My family didn’t have anywhere near that kind of money. The only person I knew who could possibly have that kind of cash was Nicole, but it wasn’t hers to give was it? It belonged to her parents and I hardly knew them. Nicole was always alone in that big house. Despair, cut through me. To escape, only for this. I stared at Tiny. I felt things snapping loose, snapping in. Fight or flight. I was going to do both.
“And if I’m not?” I whispered under my breath, not really wanting to know the answer but having to ask the question because it was a likely outcome. “Worth that much to anybody?”
He looked down at me and smiled, “Oh, I’m sure you’re worth at least that much to your boy Caleb.” He looked me up and down, slow, leering, then smiled widely at me. “Aren’t you darlin’?” I swallowed the bile that time. Where was the bartender? Where had he gone? Did it matter?
He grabbed me, my arm engulfed by one meaty, sweaty hand and he dragged me behind him as I struggled out of his grasp. I was going to make this difficult. He laughed at me the whole way and I knew I’d done more harm to myself, than him.
The house was better kept on the inside than it was on the outside. There were even pictures secured to the concrete walls, mostly religious paintings. Right in front of me, over the small, plastic covered sofa was a picture of Christ on the cross, his expression pained, blood tears running down his face as he stared toward heaven asking why God had forsaken him. I could ask the same question. I’d left the Devil I knew for one I didn’t and it was going to cost me –
hopefully a hundred grand, but potentially so much more.
“Where’s the phone?” My voice was hoarse, on the verge of tears. I sucked in desperation and hot air. I prayed Nicole’s family would help me. I wasn’t sure how huge of a long shot it was, if they’d believe me, let alone help me. Would they call the police? Hang up on me?
Tiny pointed to the end of the sofa where an old rotary phone, my lifeline, waited for me to make the most important call of my life.
• • •
It hadn’t been too difficult to find out where the bartender lived, a simple matter of waiting for the regulars to arrive at the bar and then waiving large American bills. All citizens of dusty countries understood the value of the dollar. American money represented an American life, a chance to pursue a future deserved rather than destined. It was a future worthy of stealing, killing, and selling one’s soul. Caleb couldn’t help but scoff at how easy it had been to find her.
He had told her not to be found and he had meant it. Once again she had not listened.
Instead, Caleb had successfully honed in on his target. There was within him a sense of victory. But there was something else too. Conflict. Always conflict when it came to her. What would he do when he saw her? Beat her? Scream at her? Spank her until she wept and begged for mercy or cover her in kisses that would cause the same? He never knew with her, not until the moment took over him, controlled him.
He walked back to the plantation, in no rush to collect his prize. Victory and anger aside, he did not relish any of the things he might have to do next. He hoped the bartender didn’t have a family. He hoped his kitten would come without added agitation. He hoped there would be no one to kill. Still, he doubted each of these scenarios. So he walked. No rush.
As he listened to the warm dirt crunching under his boots he stared out at the landscape of the village. Not far beyond, lay the city. She was out there, beneath one of those many homes made of sand, clay and lime, sweating under a rusted tin roof. There were hundreds of them, sprawling out before him on into the horizon, but it didn’t matter. The city could appear large, but it was very small in every way that mattered. Poverty bred despair and despair bred corruption and corruption would guarantee him safe haven. No matter what happened this night, Caleb would return and not empty-handed.
The heel of his boot hit the ground with a hard crack. She never turned back. Not once. She’d just run away from him. His ire rose. “Do I feel lucky? Yes Kitten, I feel very lucky.” He picked up his pace. It was best to strike while his anger was hot and his passion ice cold.
• • •
The sun beat down on my shoulders, though it was early evening. Dust covered my body from head to toe and filled my mouth as we tore up the road on Tiny’s motorcycle. Javier had provided me with one of his wife’s dresses to wear. Unfortunately, she was a somewhat larger woman and the dress did little better than the nightgown. But it was black and that was good. I put it on over the nightgown and put on Caleb’s jacket. It was cold comfort compared to what could now happen to me.
Nicole had come through. Or at least she’d promised she would. The moment I heard her voice I had burst into tears of relief and pure joy. She’d cried too. Through the grainy connection I listened to her strained voice explain how she’d never thought I’d run away, not without her.
She also made it clear my mother had no such faith in me.
In fact, she held Nicole completely responsible for my disappearance, demanding that the police pull her in for questioning and force her to give up my whereabouts. When that didn’t work, because there was no indication of foul play (my books were never discovered) and I was eighteen, she had gathered up all my stuff and dumped it on Nicole’s front lawn. My mother had yelled at Nicole, called her a whore and self-serving rich girl. She had called me worse. My heart sunk into my stomach, extinguishing some of my joy. Maybe Caleb had been right. Still, Nicole reassured me she would make everything right, call my mother and explain. I told her not to bother. She hadn’t given a damn about me. In some ways, right now, I fucking didn’t care. I wanted to live. I wanted out of this hell.
What I needed was cash, lots of it. A hundred grand to be exact. “Holy shit Livvie! How am I supposed to get that kind of money? My parents are on a cruise right now.” Not what I needed to hear. I had looked up at Tiny and Javier, one of them looked expectant, the other worried his eye on the door. I wish it had been only Javier at the bar, he seemed more malleable, but then again, he also left me there to be captured.
“I need that money Nick. Please,” I said, my voice high and almost screeching. “I don’t know what he’ll do to me.” That quieted her and she was in the middle of telling me something when Tiny took the receiver and made it very clear what would happen to me if she didn’t come through. Everywhere I turned these days I was someone’s property.
He looked down at me. I should have called the cops I thought, staring back at him. But I knew since my own mother had failed to help me, it was all too likely the cops would care even less. Especially in a poor, drug-run country like Mexico. I had a choice between bad, worse and excruciating. It was no choice at all.
“We’re leaving—now.”
I didn’t bother asking where. We drove, too fast for me to consider jumping off but I still had a small sliver of hope that this fucked up plan would work, and I’d be free. As Tiny’s bike slowed down, my heart sped up.
We were headed toward Chihuahua. Nicole would meet us there tomorrow night with the money. How she was going to do it I had no idea. Worse, I didn’t know if she could do it. I only knew she had told Tiny she’d be there with the money. If she was bluffing it didn’t matter, she was buying me time. But first we had to make a stop and pick up the rest of Tiny’s ‘gang’. I was not at all excited to meet more people like Tiny, but as usual I had no choice and no say. I pulled Caleb’s jacket closer to my body.
Traveling more slowly his scent wafted up to my nostrils pulling my thoughts toward him.
What would happen now? Was he looking for me? And why did the idea fill me with both a sense of dread and hope? Hope for what? For a moment I wished I had just lain in the bed next to him, given him a chance to be kind. Perhaps he would have let me go eventually. I blinked, hard.
You did the right thing Livvie. This can work, it can.
As we pulled up to the run-down house I heard several voices laughing, shouting, or making chatter as loud rock music filled the air. I wobbled and nearly fell when I got off the bike. Tiny laughed as he walked to the door.
“Watch yourself little girl, you don’t want that bike fallin’ down on you.” I didn’t think it was too damn funny.
He opened the door to the house and let out the only thing more overwhelming than the music, the smell of Marijuana. I stood outside, lamenting every decision I had ever made to lead me here, and then I stepped through the doorway. All conversation came to a halt. Nine bikers, one of them a young woman, turned to stare at me. I tensed at their blatant scrutiny, most of them confused, and some of them seemingly aroused.
“Everybody, this is Jessica,” Tiny introduced me, sounding happy and counting his cash in his head most likely. I decided to use a fake name, for no other reason than I didn’t want anyone to know my real one. “Nobody fuck with her,” he looked at me lasciviously, “unless she wants to be fucked with.” Still silence, except for the long version of November Rain blasting through crappy boom box speakers. I shrank further inside Caleb’s coat, another comforting whiff of him, another regretted decision. This whole fucking thing was twisted irony. Tiny turned to me, finishing the introductions, “Jessica this is Joker, Smokey, Casanova, Stinky, Boston, Abe, Hog, Kid, and his bitch, Nancy.”
Who the fuck cared? I sure didn’t. I just stared blankly at all of them, at none of them.
Nancy just gave a snide look, as if I called her a bitch as a greeting.
I said nothing. Growing up poor and in LA taught me something. You can’t look weak, but you can’t look too defiant or someone could take it as a challenge. And fuck with me. I flicked my gaze around, holding only a few of the eyes briefly before just staring off, not responding and just giving an indifferent and vague nod of acknowledgment. I wish Caleb had taught me something more valuable than how to withstand a strong hand on my ass. I almost laughed, feeling hysterical for a moment, and bit down on my tongue. I was not going to freak out, not when I needed to be aware.
“Nancy, why don’t you take Jessica here and get her something to eat before we pack up and ride out. I want to make it to Chihuahua by night fall.”
Nancy rolled her eyes at Tiny and then looked at me for a moment before saying, “Well come on then.”
Nancy and I walked down a small hallway into another little room. Inside, a few dirty airbeds and small piles of clothes that seemed to also serve as sheets and pillows lined the floor. She angrily kicked at the clothes in her way and headed toward the corner of the room to the bed covered in clothes, make-up, hairspray and individually wrapped condoms. I looked away, saying nothing.
“Listen here girl. You better either pay me for this food or replace it cause I don’t have money to throw away on anyone.” I didn’t say anything, just a tad shocked. So much for us females sticking together or some sympathy. Then I realized that was asking for way too much.
Caleb had taught me not to expect sympathy, even if he’d shown me some from time to time. Or at least what passed for it considering the source. I had to stop thinking about the son of a bitch.
She picked up a pair of cut-off jean shorts and a skimpy leather top that laced up the front. I couldn’t help it, I winced at the whore-ware. Suddenly my chest suffered a direct hit and a small pile of snack foods dropped to my feet. I gritted my teeth. She responded with a sneer. Bitch. I picked up the bag of chips and two protein bars. Yeah, I’d be sure to reimburse her for these delicacies. She continued to give a stiff upper lip as she kicked more clothes into a corner.
“Well, are you gonna just stand there or are you gonna sit down and eat?”
I looked at her, incredulous. Then loud voices drifted in from the other room.
“Are you fucking crazy?!?”
Eruption of a lot of voices arose.
“Bringing that bitch in here is a mistake man,” said someone.
“Jesus Christ, Tiny, you should give her back while you can,” said another.
“When did you become such a pussy?” said Tiny.
“What’s going on?” Nancy shot daggers at me with her eyes. I cast my eyes toward the floor.
She grabbed me by the elbow, squeezed and easily pushed me out of the room before she left to join the argument. As Tiny told the real story, the shouting escalated. It went back and forth for about forty-five minutes, and then most of the guys decided to leave and avoid ‘The Shitstorm’.
Nancy returned, livid. I found a corner to hide in while they packed, not wanting anyone to see me and start yelling at me. They packed pretty quickly, most of them just throwing a few handfuls of clothes in a backpack – obviously all they came with. I watched, not feeling anything, just learning names I didn’t care about. I was just so tired and scared. I wanted…I wasn’t sure what I wanted. The fear and terror drained me, took my energy and hope. Despair in, hope out. Repeat. Repeat.
“Come on Kid, let’s just go.” I heard Nancy. I lifted my gaze toward the fighting twosome.
The way she was clinging to him, I was assuming he was the boyfriend.
“You know I can’t do that, I’m not leaving Tiny alone. Besides, I ain’t afraid of no fucking pervert. Let him come, Tiny’ll put that fucker down for good.”
They argued. “Baby please, let’s just go.”
A few tense moments later Kid replied, “No.”
“Fine,” she said lowly, seething. And then she stormed out of the room.
When it was all said and done, only Joker, Nancy, Abe, and Kid stayed to keep Tiny and me company. I had to admit, they didn’t seem like the nicest guys and Nancy I already knew was a huge bitch, but at least I was headed home in the morning. They decided we would spend the night.
It was late, I didn’t know the time, but it was dark. I stayed in my corner a long time while they all sat around drinking beer and laughing loudly. I think I sat there for so many hours that they may have forgotten I was there. No one slept, and I couldn’t stomach anything.
I just waited for night to fall, and sat in my corner, listening to the time tick away. But toward what, I had no idea.
• • •
Ransomed. She’d been ransomed. Javier’s family huddled in a corner, Javier himself just a limp body, barely breathing but still alive. The motherfucker was going to get a cut of the ransom if he helped smuggle what was his.
He chanced a glance in their direction and instantly recognized the pitiful pleading expression on the woman’s face. Kitten would look at him like that when she was terrified of what he’d do next. In some ways, he imagined that look had softened. As he kept staring at the woman, Javier’s wife, something inside him twisted and he had to look away. It was a good thing he had decided to come alone. It was also a good thing Javier’s wife and child were at home with him. They were the reason Javier would live after tonight. He would never kill a man in front of his child, but Jair and the rest would do so with too much pleasure.
Caleb walked toward a coffee table and picked up a short pencil and a pad of paper resting near a phone. Kitten had used that phone, today. She had touched all these things, but there was no sign of her now. He thought of her smell, still embedded in the pillow on his bed, some of her hair too. At the time he had felt anger, now….
He dropped the pencil and pad next to Javier. “Direcciones. ¡Ahora! ” Directions. Now.
Javier sputtered and wept, bloody drool dripping from his quivering lip as he forced himself to write. Caleb looked on dispassionately. Ransomed. If they were holding her for ransom, if they didn’t care about the law, about getting back to the U.S., then what else could they be doing to her at this very moment? Rage ripped through him and he fought the strong urge to kick Javier.
Emotions were only useful to control, survive and succeed. He was apparently re-learning that lesson he thought he’d mastered.
Caleb collected the piece of bloody paper. The biker’s weren’t too far away, but he also knew he couldn’t go in alone. He would have to return to the house and gather Jair and a few more men along with weapons. The bikers were armed. To his shock, it wasn’t his own safety he was concerned with. That girl, that damn stupid girl. He had to get her back.
Caleb couldn’t wait until he saw the bikers.
• • •
I got up and ran to the bathroom to throw up. I heard their laughter in the background and Kid saying they were assholes. My arms wrapped around the top of the toilet, and probably touched piss, but with no food in my stomach and getting high off the heavy pot fumes, I couldn’t really do too much about it.
They laughed at me. Assholes. I should never have let my guard down. I should never have trusted anyone. I should have run away from Tiny, and I definitely should not have fallen asleep in the bathroom. But the gagging and dry heaving had worn me out further and I was exhausted.
And high.
It started out simply at first, my skin felt warmer and that was nice. Little tingles spread throughout my body and I stretched out. My thoughts felt liquid and surreal, like nothing was what it was, like I was falling, but it was okay to fall, and so I did. I felt enveloped. Then the softness became rougher and the warmth hot and uncomfortable. I jerked, my body confused.
My buzzing head. My eyes began to flutter, but I couldn’t open them all the way and suddenly I had the odd sensation my nipples were being tugged through my dress by something blunt but firm.
Instinctively, I pushed at the pressure, of hands. When I realized it was someone, I pushed with my sluggish and weak arms and then I attempted to protest, scream bloody murder but my head felt huge and my tongue felt dead in my mouth. When I felt a mouth on my breast, sucking harder, a yelp escaped my lips. I finally broke through the haze. And I woke up.
“Shhh, you don’t want to wake everybody up.” The voice was feminine – Nancy’s. What the…fuck…was going on? I tried to scream and a hand covered my mouth. Too heavy and large to belong to Nancy. I tried to scream louder, beyond the hand. And still, I heard another voice.
Three. But who? It was too dark to tell.
“Hurry up man, she’s wakin’ up.” I swung my arms wildly, surprised when feminine hands grabbed them and held them down. Fabric ripped and my chest was suddenly bare. The man on top of me wasted no time in sucking my breast into his mouth, scratching me with the stubble of his beard. With his free hand he pulled at my dress, trying to raise it up. I kicked wildly, but he forced his way between my legs and his naked chest lay on mine.
“Don’t be shy baby, I know what you are. You’re a whore aren’t you?” And then he let out the shrill laughter that finally gave away his identity – Joker.
“Flip her over,” said the other man.
“I can’t man, if I move my hand she’s gonna start screaming.”
“Don’t be such a fucking pussy dude, I’ll let you go first, pass her here.”
Eyes wide and somewhat adjusted to the dark, I watched in horror as Joker grabbed his shirt that was lying nearby and shoved it into my mouth as Abe pushed me forward onto Joker’s chest, so that I straddled him. My arms, posing no seeming struggle were pinned high on my back. I cried and screamed pitifully, my cries falling on uncaring ears.
“Why are you letting them do this?” I screamed at Nancy who despite the shirt in my mouth could probably understand me. She looked panicked, but it seemed to stem from anger or excitement. Her eyes were wild, frenzied. She was enjoying this as much as the men.
Joker lay back onto the floor and held my arms as I was bent into an impossibly uncomfortable position. My mind sober, flashed with horrific scenarios which did nothing to formulate a way out of the situation. Behind me Abe pulled down his pants and pressed his penis against me, searching for any way in.
“Oh my god you feel good baby.” I pulled as far away from him as I could and strained my arms so that they almost came out of their sockets. My struggle only served to bend me more impossibly.
Finally, I worked the cloth out of my mouth and in one quick movement bit into Joker’s shoulder so hard his blood seemed to squirt into my mouth. He howled and it rocked my head.
The next moment I flew through the air, my ribs landing across the toilet.
“What the fuck? What the fuck? What the fuck?” Abe yelled over and over as Joker continued to scream and curse.
“You fucking bitch!” Joker yelled. He grabbed my hair and I heard the awful crunch of his fist connecting with my face. I choked on both my blood and his.
“Oh my god man, what the hell are you doing!” Nancy finally yelled.
But she could do nothing to stop her associate from kicking me repeatedly in the ribs. My breath protested and all I heard was Crack. Crack. Crack.
The yells and screams coming from the bathroom must have scared everyone in the house, because the door burst open.
“Oh my god!” Kid yelled.
“You fucking idiot, what did you do!” hollered Tiny. Then I remember nothing because my body was shaking, and I was drifting away.
