Page 15 of Keeping My Captive

They begin to speak back and forth in Spanish, and I’m instantly lost in their conversation. Every once in a while, they glance in my direction, so I know that they’re discussing me. I just hope it’s not over where to hide my body after they kill me.

A violent shudder runs through me, and I wrap my arms around my stomach, trying to hold myself together, because I feel like I could suddenly fall apart at any given moment. I turn my attention to the window as the car begins to drive away from the airport. Focusing, I try to take in every detail, memorize any landmarks or anything that might prove useful if I manage to escape my captor. If I can make it back to the airport at any time, maybe I can find someone to help me.

The car ride is long, and I almost give up hope of remembering everything in the small chance I do make it back to the airport. But then I steel my spine and force myself to concentrate. I can’t give up already. If I do, I’m as good as dead.

I can hear my father’s voice in my head right now.Never lose hope. We’ll find you no matter where you are or who has you.He ingrained those words into my head when I was just a little girl. It had frightened me at the time, but I never imagined it would actually ever happen to me; that I would be kidnapped or sold.

I stare across the aisle at Mateo, who is staring at me. And I know in that moment that I’ll do whatever it takes to escape. I will never stop fighting.

Maybe he can sense the change in my demeanor…or maybe he can read minds, but he quirks a brow at me in challenge. Narrowing my eyes at him in defiance, I turn my head and stare out the tinted window.

Eventually, the car slows and comes to a stop in front of a large security gate that seems to stretch up into the heavens. The fence surrounding the property must be at least twenty feet tall with barbed wire at the top, and my plan of escaping quickly begins to deflate.

We drive through the gate after a thorough check, and then I see the place that will be my prison for I don’t know how long. Maybe even eventually my tomb.

The compound is huge, spanning over a few acres of land, darkly utilitarian, and nondescript with gray concrete walls and very few windows in the front. Obviously, they are not trying to flaunt their wealth or power. They are trying to maintain a low profile here. It almost looks like a warehouse, not a dwelling, but I have a feeling the inside will be quite the opposite. I haven’t known my captor for very long, but I can’t see him living in squalor since his suit probably costs more than most people’s rent.

Armed guards with dogs roam the property as the car coasts up the long, gravel driveway. A nearby dog snaps and barks at the car, and I jump. I hear Mateo chuckle, and it has my blood turning to ice. If he finds pleasure in my fear, it doesn’t bode well for me.

The car rolls to a stop in front of the large building, and someone opens the door. Mateo studies me intently, motioning for me to exit on my own. I wish so hard to be invisible in that moment, to just disappear inside the backseat. Once I get out of this car, my fate is sealed. I know now that I’ll never be able to escape. This place is twice as big as my family’s compound and at least ten times more secure.

“Why do you keep defying me every step of the way?” Mateo asks, disapproval marking his tone.

He reaches for me, but I quickly pull away and get out of the car on my own. Several guards surround us, and a few of them stare at me creepily, their eyes raking up and down my body. Suddenly feeling vulnerable, I wrap my arms around myself, trying to cover as much as I can since my torn dress is leaving little to the imagination at the moment.

Mateo steps out of the car behind me, his tall frame unfolding and towering over me. I glance up at him, but he doesn’t even acknowledge me.

“Ella está fuera de los límites,” he announces in a deep, booming voice.

I have no idea what that means, but it has an effect on his men, who suddenly forget all about me and go about their business. I’m just thankful that they’re no longer leering at me.

Mateo looks to the bald dude and says, “Take her to my room.”

My eyes widen, and I quickly look around for a way out of this situation.

Mateo clicks his tongue, bringing my attention back to him. “Did we not learn our lesson earlier about trying to run?” he reminds me.

I think about his gun pressed against my temple, and I quickly shake my head. No, I won’t run. At least not right now. But the first chance I get, I’m getting away from this man and this godforsaken place.

“Take her, Ignacio,” Mateo instructs him.

Ignacio grabs my arm in a tight grip and hauls me towards the entrance of the massive building. I want to protest, but I know my pleas will fall on deaf ears.

“I’ll be back later,” Mateo calls over his shoulder.

Why does that sound like a threat?

Ignacio leads me through the nondescript front door. But when we walk through the open foyer, I have to stop myself from gasping. The inside of the house looks nothing like the outside. The inside is opulent, immaculately decorated with antique furniture and colorful artwork on the walls. I only get the chance to glance around before I’m forced up the grand staircase.

There are several doors upstairs, and Ignacio leads me to the last one in the hallway. This door is different than the others. It almost looks like the wood was hand carved with intricate patterns and flowers.

Ignacio turns the knob, pushes through the door and roughly tosses me onto the large bed in the center of the room. I collapse against the soft sheets and glare at him.

Then, he points a thick, tattooed finger at me. “Stay,” he says, speaking to me like I’m a dog.

When he’s satisfied I’m not going to try to run out of the room, he leaves, closing the door behind him. I wait to hear a lock of some kind, but I don’t hear anything else but the sound of his retreating footsteps. I think about leaving, about running, but then I remember the numerous guards outside with dogs and the huge, gated fence lining the property. I wouldn’t make it more than a few feet out the front door without being caught…or gunned down.

No, I have to bide my time; wait for the perfect opportunity to escape.

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