Page 28 of Blind Trust
She’d caught the eye of someone who wanted her, and they’d taken her. This kind of thing happened every day. More than people realized. But not to his girl.
They’d taken the wrong woman.
He would make every one of these assholes wish they’d never laid eyes on her.
But first, he had to find her.
Was Mexico even their final destination?
I need to find her fast and get her out.
Chapter 7
Cecelia stood,somewhat groggily, from whatever they’d injected her with to knock her out. She had no idea where she was but sensed no one was with her.
It was too quiet. So quiet she could hear her own breathing.
She moved forward, her hands held out in front of her to touch and feel what was around her. She found the rusty metal door they’d brought her through.
She remembered the clang of the metal door closing and the sound of a lock after they’d thrown her into the room, dazed and just waking up for the shot. Too dizzy and disoriented to even stand up by herself.
Now, she could stand and walk but was still woozy.
She felt her way around, looking for something, anything that would help her get out. Her fingers moved from the metal door to the wall on the right and across the wall, helping her to “look.”
The wall felt bumpy, sandpapery, like rough concrete beneath her fingers. It was like touching a driveway, which made her situation even more surreal to her, this rough surface being the material of the wall, not a floor or driveway.
Where am I? Still in San Diego?
No.
There were voices. Speaking Spanish. Was she in Mexico? Mexico wasn’t that far.
Oh God. I’m in Mexico. They’ve taken me out of the country.
Her stomach dropped, and she nearly gagged at the stink of the room when she turned to the next wall and the strong smell of urine wafted up from the ground there. A fly buzzed near her ear, and she waved at it, shooing it away.
She wished she could see her feet, to know if she might be stepping in something. But maybe it was better she couldn’t see when the stench was so bad—here, where people had obviously relieved themselves. At least, she was still wearing her tennis shoes and not sandals.
Mexico. I’m in Mexico. He’ll never find me here.
Her heart sank.
She found no window on the first wall with the door and none on the second to the right. Now, she moved along the third wall and felt a slight breeze, quickly gone, as if it had never been there.
Sounds came from up high. A window. She reached her hands up, as high as she could reach.
The window was too high for her to reach touch even a sill, if it had one.
The room was hot.
Her jeans were sticking to her as if they’d been painted on, and her T-shirt was wet with sweat. Another drop of sweat rolled down her back, beneath the waistband of her jeans.
How thirsty she was.
This room is not just hot, it is sweltering, and the drug they gave me is wearing off.
All her senses were fully waking up. Maybe that was not such a good thing in circumstances like these.
