“Like I said before, you don’t need to thank me. There’s nowhere else I want to be.” He smiled softly. “Sophie, you need to rest. You’re exhausted. Have a shower, something to eat. There’s nothing else you can do here right now.”
“I don’t want to leave.”
“Everyone is doing what they can. Let me take you to a hotel, so you can rest.”
“No. I want to stay here.”
“Trust me. If there is any news, they will let me know.”
Sophie yawned.
“See, you need to rest.” He took her hand. “Come on. We’re leaving, just for a while.”
Chapter 7
Chloe opened her eyes. Exhaustion had finally won, and she’d drifted off. For a brief moment, she forgot where she was. Then the room came into focus and everything came flooding back. Fear and panic swept through every cell of her body. It was dark, but there was no clock in the room. Without a watch or her phone, she had no way of knowing what time it was.
When she wasn't tending to Luis, Ricardo locked her in this room. It was a nice room. A woman must have decorated it. Pastel blue and crisp white, the feminine touches of throw cushions, soft towels in the adjoining bathroom, bath salts and soft white robes. It was hard to believe the bloody scene she’d been involved in downstairs. The first time in here, she’d checked the windows, all locked and bolted. The only way out of this room was through the door and the big men on the other side.
With no spare clothes, she still wore her blood-stained yoga pants and t-shirt. She was desperate to get out of the clothes and take a shower, but she wouldn’t, for fear of Ricardo, or one of his men, walking in. The way they looked at her, like she was fresh meat, made her skin crawl. Juan had given her a slice of pizza and a bottle of water. The pizza lay untouched on the plate; the thought of eating made her want to vomit.
She sat up, hugging her knees to her chest. Sophie had to know she was missing by now. The police would be looking for her, or maybe her sister’s friend Ryan, the SEAL. She just had to make sure they still needed her alive until someone found her.
The men had moved Luis to another bedroom. Diego had gone for more medical supplies at her request. A drip, pain medication, and antibiotics. She hadn’t expected him to get any of it, yet he’d come back with it all. Luis had been in and out of consciousness, speaking briefly with Ricardo, but he was very weak. She looked up at the sound of someone unlocking the door and held her breath.
Juan stood there. “You need to come. Something’s wrong.”
Without a word, she got up and followed him.
“What’s wrong with him, he’s burning up.” Ricardo glared at her.
Chloe didn’t answer him, instead she took Luis’s temperature. 99. He had a fever. She removed the bandage on his leg. The wound was infected.
“Well, what is it?”
“He’s developed an infection. Look.” She pointed to the skin around the stitches, yellow and black. “I warned you this could happen. The infection has caused a fever. I need to get his temperature down.”
“How?”
“I’ll increase the antibiotics and clean the area as best I can. Apply cold compresses. He really should be in a hospital.”
“Not happening.” He cursed in Spanish. “He needs to be mobile, as soon as possible. Make it happen.”
When Ricardo stormed from the room, Chloe swallowed. What if she couldn’t make it happen?
An hour later, the wound was cleaned and re-bandaged. She could do nothing more than keep it clean and wait for the antibiotics to do their job. Replacing the cold compress on his forehead, she settled into the chair to monitor him. Juan stood by the door, keeping watch.
Ricardo was a God damn asshole. What the hell had she seen in him? She had thought she was a pretty good judge of character. Apparently not. Yet Sophie had sensed it straight away. Jeez, she’d danced with him, kissed him. It made her skin crawl just thinking about it. Now the bastard was treating her like she disgusted him. Yes, she was scared, but she was also fucking angry. He might be bigger than her, might have a gun, but he didn’t have a medical degree. He knew nothing about treating a gunshot wound; she could use that. Luis must be someone important, and they needed him kept alive, so they wouldn’t kill her. Not yet. She was going to make sure he needed her for as long as possible and trust that her sister would have alerted someone, and they would find her before it was too late.
TRACER FOUND PEREZ standing in the kitchen. The slimy Mexican disgusted him. Glancing into the dining room, he noticed someone had tried to clean up the blood, but a lot was still smeared over the table and floor. Just another day in the life of a fucking cartel.
“I spoke with the boss.” Perez spat the words.
Tracer hid a smile. Alejandro Vitelli was furious his son had gotten shot on Perez’s watch. Perez might be the cartel’s enforcer, but Tracer had been working his way into the cartel’s inner circle, gaining Alejandro’s trust. As an American hired gun, he had done a few jobs for the Vitelli Cartel. Alejandro liked that Tracer had US connections. He’d also voiced concern over Perez more than once. The man was a killing machine. Made his victims suffer and enjoyed every minute of it. But his drug use was making him sloppy. Last month, he’d beaten a guy half to death because he’d spilled a drink on him.
Alejandro had called Tracer, after learning his son had gotten shot and the deal screwed up. He put Tracer in charge to get this deal done and his son back home.
“Good. The boss has smoothed things over and it’s back on for Thursday night.”