Page 28 of Unchained
Veronica rested her hands in her lap. Her smile changed to a smirk. “Does the name Jorge Arroyo ring a bell?”
I sat up straighter and then leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees, staring a hole through the woman who’d just dropped a notorious name from my past. “He was responsible for the largest drug trade to ever travel between Brazil and the United States. He used shipping lanes to transport his drugs up the Atlantic, into the Carrbian Sea, and then to Miami.” I shook my head. “I put him away ten years ago.”
“Yes, you did. And he was murdered by fellow inmates, a hit organized by another cartel.”
“Why do you care?” I went to the bar and poured a double shot of whiskey, not afraid of her answer, but knowing it Was going to add to the craziness of the last few days.
“Jorge Arroyo was my father.”
“He had no kids.”
“Oh, but he did.” Veronica joined me at the bar. Chrissy and Stephanie sat next to each other, watching us, fear on Stephanie’s face but not on Chrissy’s. “I lived in New York City with my mother. He took care of us.”
“That’s where his money was going that we couldn’t find,” I said, and Veronica nodded. “That’s how you developed the cosmetics business and remained such a mystery to everyone.”
“I needed to remain in hiding. My mother protected me the best she could. When she passed, I had to take drastic measures to conceal who I was and who my father was.”
“There were no marriage records.” I poured another double shot of whiskey.
“I talked to my father every day until he was murdered. Secure phone lines. Secure bank accounts. We had everything covered.”
“And then I put him in jail.”
“Until you put him in jail,” she echoed.
“So that’s what this is all about? Revenge for doing my job?”
“Not at all, Deacon. You did your job. But you went above and beyond. You made arrangements for him to be placed into the general population while he was in prison, knowing someone would kill him. And they did.”
“He was a criminal. He brought over a billion dollars worth of drugs into the country.”
“But when you sent him to prison, he was an ailing man. You knew he wouldn’t survive in general.”
“You’re going to make sure I pay for what I did to him.”
Veronica shook her head. “I don’t have to make sure of anything. You will be your own worst enemy, Deacon. You have a curiosity that will drive you insane.” One of the guards entered the room, no longer holding a gun. “Shortly, we will be passing Cuba, and you are free to leave. I have not and will not hold you against your will.”
I looked at the guard and then Chrissy and Stephanie. Nothing made any sense. Why let me go after everything that she’d put me through?
“What’s in Brazil?”
“Home.” She returned to the seats with Chrissy and Stephanie.
So I’d put her father away. He’d deserved general population. Yeah, I knew what would happen if he were put there. The same thing that happened to pedophiles, rapists, and other worthless pieces of shit.
I took a step toward the seats, and my knees buckled, the buzz racing through my head debilitating. Placing my hand on the bar, I steadied myself and then stumbled toward the others, falling at the last second. I looked up at the ceiling and saw the tiles spinning. I wasn’t there of my own free will. Never had I been.
“Help the girls take him to my room,” I heard Veronica say. I tried to move, but the entire weight of the room seemed to be pressing down on my chest. For a moment, I thought I was having a heart attack but quickly realized something had been placed in the bottle of whiskey.
“I don’t want to,” Stephanie said. “This isn’t right.”
“Chrissy,” Veronica said. “Do as you are told.”
Chrissy grabbed my feet, and the guard grabbed my hands. The two dragged me through the living room, dining room, and back through a slender hallway. They suddenly hoisted me up and tossed me onto a bed. The two left the room, and Veronica entered. She closed the door and locked it—just her and me.
“You didn’t have to drug me to have sex with me.” I chuckled and then pushed my pants down my legs.
Veronica sat on the edge of the bed. “I told you, you can’t handle what I have to offer.”
