Page 141 of Cavern of Silence
"That was before she slept with Goliath."
She wouldn't have.
I rise.
He slams his hand on the table, and Julieta jumps. She closes her eyes, and more tears fall. "Sit down."
I obey.
"I'm offering you freedom. This is the last time I will ask. Do you want your freedom, or do you want me to let her go? Think before you speak."
I don't hesitate. "She gets her freedom."
He shakes his head. "You've disappointed me. I assumed you were smarter, but it looks like you only have physical skills." He nods to his thug. "Take her out of here."
A goon grabs her out of the chair, and she speaks in Spanish.
"Julieta!"
She continues speaking in Spanish with fear on her face, and it appears as if she's begging Evandro.
"Julieta!" I repeat.
Why won't she speak or look at me?
She yells and sobs, but when she gets to the door, she escapes their grasp and turns before being manhandled out the door.
It's enough for me to realize the truth of what just happened.
There is no J or T on her back. I didn't give Julieta her freedom. I gave it to Josie.
24
Julieta
Days turninto weeks since I saw Miguel. I told him everything I knew and begged him not to hurt Ryker.
He tried to get me to agree to come back to Belize with him. But I refused.
"You choose to have nothing?" he asked.
"Go." I sobbed, wanting nothing associated with him.
"No one will touch you. You have my word. But I will see you again when you learn more secrets." He kissed me on the forehead and left.
Any hatred I had for him in the past has multiplied. And the self-loathing along with it.
How could I not have known?
I'm still trying to wrap my head around it. My sister Josie always was greedy, wanting more without having to work for anything. But how could she go into a life of crime?
I've been a fool my entire life, putting my faith in those who don't deserve it, except for Ryker. And now he has no freedom because of me.
Every day, I try to figure out how to get a hold of Hunter, or Tinker, or another one of the guys. But there is no answer. All eyes are on me. I'm sure my phone is tapped, and I am escorted to and from work. Most nights, I'm in a hotel room in a different country.
My alarm rings, and I drag myself out of bed, shower, and get ready.
My face is no longer a mess, and I force myself to put on makeup. As always, a black car is waiting for me and takes me to a private airport in Mexico.
