Page 2 of If Tomorrow Never Comes

“Talking to the walls again,Madison?” The smooth rich baritone voice of Selena’s older brother floats through the smallwindow in the cell door. A boisterous laugh follows along with the jingle of keys engaging the lock. He usually brings me my food, slides it through the window, and sits against the outside of the door to talk to me.

But not today.What’s changed?

My heart rate works up to a gallop as the metal door scrapes against the concrete floor and opens.

He’s much taller than I had imagined. Very tall actually, considering my own height of 5’6. For some reason, I was expecting the male version of Selena. Of course, he’s not as tall as…

I can’t bring myself to mention their names.

If I do, I’ll surely break for good.

A sliver of hope is all I have left. Without that, I doubt I’ll make it through my upcoming meeting withEl Rompe Huesos—The Bone Breaker. I haven’t met him yet, but the name alone makes me want to curl up into a ball and scream. I was convinced (those who shall not be mentioned) would have been here by now. But it’s already been three weeks.

How do I know that?

The man now standing in my personal space leaves me a Post-It note each morning with the date and a random inspirational quote scribbled across it. Reminds me of when my mom would leave little notes in our lunch boxes.Except, instead of bringing joy, it brings dread.The cheerful neon memo is a cruel reminder that another day has passed without being saved.

Nervously, I gaze up at him. I doubt he’sthatmuch older than me. Maybe late twenties or early thirties. Older than…Never mind.Espresso-brown, windblown curls hang over his forehead. He looks like he just got back from surfing all day. Striped board shorts grip his toned thighs while thick bands of muscle strain against a light blue Billabong tank top.

The color brings out the intensity of his topaz-blue eyes, making them pop and contrast beautifully against his sun-kissedskin. Those exquisite eyes bore into mine as his lips form a thin line.

“I brought you another bottle of water.” He pushes the bottle into my trembling hands and takes a step forward. Warm and surprisingly gentle fingers grip my elbows as he peers down at me. A small gasp escapes my lips. I wasn’t expecting—gentle.

Not in this cell. Not as a prisoner.

Nothing in this place has beengentleorsoft.

His touch is the exactoppositeofhis Uncle Geraldo's. That fucker may be old, but he still has enough energy left in his ancient ass to beat the living shit out of me. All for information.

Information I don’t have a clue about.

He keeps asking about the death of Selena’s father. How the fuck am I supposed to know?

During my visit last night with the vile man, I was told I would be seeing theBone Breakerfor my nextsession—as he’d call it. A threat I didn’t take lightly. A threat that has been running wild in my mind, keeping me from any ounce of sleep.

Geraldo sent me back to my cell—conscious this time. The feel of his hands around my throat still lingers from the days before. Our meetings always end with me blacking out under the talons of that monster.

Most nights I don’t remember much of anything. Sometimes in my haze, I imagine Liam holding me, cradling me close to his body. Keeping me alive another day.

I break out of the memory reel I’ve been stuck in all day and focus on the man before me.Ocean Eyesfinishes his perusal of my body as his blue orbs meet mine again, inducing a wave of anxiety that crashes into me like a tidal wave. The scent of salt, coconut, and mint drifts across my nose, temporarily ridding it of the rancid smell of my cell. Somehow that calms the storm brewing beneath my skin and the fight or flight mode threatening to resurface.

“You ready to meetEl Rompe Huesos?” His eyes drop to mybruised throat, lingering there a second too long, and making me squirm.

“I told your uncle, and I’ll tell you as well… I truly don’t know what happened to your father,” I say, putting as much confidence into my voice as possible. It strains and withers, too abused by the screaming and asphyxiation.

“I don’t believe that,Madison.You know something. It's there, deep inside that pretty little head of yours.” He taps his index finger twice against my temple. Footsteps sound in the hall, warning me we aren’t alone.

I take a healthy step away from him. The last thing I need is him taunting me. Disapproval flashes across his eyes as they narrow at my sudden movement. Gripping the back of my head, he pulls me even closer, before lowering his face to mine so that the sturdy bridge of his nose presses against my own. The mint dancing on his breath brushes over my face as he begins to talk.

“I’ll throw you abone,” he smirks at his little pun. “I’m sureTheBone Breakerwould enjoy breaking the wings off of a cleanlittle butterflyover a filthy one. Nothing thrills him more than to watch fresh blood splatter a clean canvas.”

Ice snakes its way up my spine, making me shiver underneath the heat of his palm. His lips curl and a cryptic smile forms at my response.

“Let’s go.” Grabbing me by the arm, he tugs me out of the room and leads me down a damp, dark hallway. His hand shifts to grip the back of my neck, guiding me towards a staircase. As we ascend, he leans in and pushes a strand of my dirty knotted hair behind my ear.

“Don’t even think about running,Mariposita. We are on a private island. The only way in or out is by boat. And trust me, you won’t be finding the keys.” He shrugs. “Feel free to try and swim. If the tide doesn’t take you first, the sharks will.” A dark eyebrow raises in anI dare you, kind of way.

I throw my hand over my eyes, shielding them, as he pushesthe door open at the top of the staircase. Sunlight filters through the windows in what looks to be a beautiful living room. It’s difficult toseeanything other than blurry furniture while my vision adjusts.

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