Page 147 of Haze of Obedience
I close my eyes, willing myself not to cry and show him any pain, but they escape.
"Let's go. Now."
I don't fight him, but I don't help him either, and he ends up dragging me through a small house. Men are at a table cutting cocaine.
The entire time I've been here, I could have been high.
I could have masked the pain.
No. You have to be stronger.
But you're weak.
You're strong. Dirk's voice pops up in my head. It's the first time I've heard it since being here, and by the time I get to the car, I'm sobbing hysterically again.
After a few minutes, Mateo loudly claps his hands in front of my face. "Snap out of it, or you're going to Jonas tonight."
Oh, God. No. Get it together. You can't go back to him.
I lock eyes with Mateo.
He raises his eyebrows. "He's waiting for you. I suggest you pull it together, or I'll drop you off, and you'll deal with his consequences tonight instead of later."
As much as I hate Mateo, I do my best to obey him. Jonas is the last person I want to see in this state.
Time passes, and silence ensues. I stare out the window, lost in thoughts about how to stay out of Jonas's grasp, but nothing comes to mind.
"You said later. What does that mean? Where are we going?"
He circles his finger in the air. "You need a complete makeover, so you look presentable before you make a statement."
"A statement?"
"To the press about where you've been."
Santiago kidnapped me. Of course, the public won't ever know that. What did you expect, Zoe?
"However, you need to clean up. Fifteen months is a long time to be gone, and your fans better still love you, or you're going to pay the price."
Fifteen months. It's been a month since I last saw Dirk?
If they ever lay eyes on you again, much less touch you, I'll come find you. It's Dirks's voice again, so clear in my head as if he's sitting right next to me.
He can't find you when he's dead.
Is this why I'm hearing his voice? Is he talking to me from beyond?
As I gaze out the window, things become familiar. I'm in Mexico City.
The car stops in a back alley, and I'm escorted in the building and through several halls. When we finally get to our destination, I'm in a salon. Three employees are waiting for us. The hairdresser, makeup artist, and a fashion stylist that I've worked with for the time I've been under Mateo's thumb are all there.
As soon as we walk in, Mateo snaps his fingers. "Get her cleaned up. When she walks out of here, she needs to be ready for the media."
They don't ask me where I've been all this time.
They don't hug me or kiss my cheek or even give me a sympathetic smile.
All three of them are the top people in their profession across all of Mexico. The Global Leaders put them in that position just like they put me in mine.
