Page 5 of Darkness

Is he going to kill me?

Frantically, I pull and thrash, trying to escape.

Ivy’s being taken to another black van, and I move to run to her, but the man grips my biceps, holding me in place.

“Uh-uh, you’re not going anywhere. Say goodbye.”

More than anything, I want him to let Ivy and me go, so I do the only thing I can think of—I plead. “You don’t have to do this. Please. Let my sister and I go. We’ll go back to Cuba. You’ll never see us again. There will be no trouble.”

He purses his lips. “Can’t do that, chiquita. If I don’t deliver six packages, I don’t get paid. I’m running a business. You understand.”

“So, what? I’m nothing but money to you?”

He shrugs. “It’s nothing personal. I didn’t pick you off the street, the buyer did. I’m just the delivery guy.”

He says it so matter-of-fact that anger rushes through me like nothing I’ve ever experienced before. I wrench one hand from his grasp and slam it across his cheek, pushing his head to the side. The sting reverberates through my palm as he turns back, glaring at me.

“You really are a firecracker, aren’t you? While I’ve enjoyed our time together… more than I was expecting… I really need to get you in this van.”

“Que te la pique un pollo,” I say, scowling at him with nothing but loathing, and I mean it. I really do hope a chicken pecks his penis.

The corner of his lips turns up, and his smirk sends shivers down my spine. I spit at his feet, causing him to chuckle.

“Have it your way, chiquita.”

So strong I can’t fight him, he holds my biceps firmly and spins me around. Fear cripples me as I peer over to the van where Ivy is being loaded inside. “Ivy!” I call out to her. “Please… please don’t take my sister. She’s everything I have. Please. I beg you.”

The brute yanks open the back of the van and tries to push me inside. My hands grip the edges, but they slip with the humidity in the air. “My sister can come with me. Please. Please don’t split us up.”

“Get in the van, chiquita.” His voice is deep, annoyed. He shoves me forward. I let out a small squeal and fall onto the van’s metal checker plate floor. He’s on me in a second, drawing my hands together. Clenching my teeth, I fight him with everything I have, but he’s too strong. He ties my wrists with cable ties. “You’re nothing but a bastardo.”

He tilts his head. “You have no idea, sweetheart.”

As he grabs something beside me, I furrow my brow, but I’m fighting a losing battle. I fought as hard as I could, and it wasn’t enough. Whoever this guy is, I thought I might have gotten through to him, but I’ve gotten nowhere.

Suddenly, his hand sweeps out in front of my face, and a white rag covers my mouth, held tight against me. I shake my head but can’t dislodge his grasp. It smells of grass clippings, and I can’t get enough air—my head spins. Screw this puta. I won’t be silenced. He wants to kidnap me? I won’t make it easy on him.

My eyes widen as I struggle harder against him, fighting to shake the asshole off, to breathe against the cloth that he only holds firmer against me. Black spots dance in my vision, darkness creeping into the edges of my sight. Hijo de puta. The motherfucker’s not trying to silence me. He’s…

“Cálmate, Eva. I’ve got you.”

He knows my name? And how to say take it easy in Spanish?

A strong hand behind my neck cradles my head as I fall back onto the van’s floor. My mind floats somewhere beyond my body, and no matter how hard I try, I can’t feel myself or find my way back. He leans over me, his face lingering over mine. My gaze swims, unable to focus on him.

With one last desperate gasp for air, my body stops fighting.

I have nowhere left to run.

No ability to fight.

Held in the cold embrace of darkness, his eyes are the last thing I see as everything goes black.

Chapter Three

NYCTO

I’ve done this run thousands of times for Andrés.

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