Page 42 of Rett

“Bullshit,” said Eagle. “You always did jerk to the left. It was mine. Clean and straight.”

“Children, can we just focus on making sure no one else is coming for us,” asked Parker.

“We got you, Parker.”

Kegger kept Rosalita out of sight until they were out of Venezuelan waters. When they hit the port of Aruba, he took her hand, linking it through his arm. Clay placed a large sunhat on her head as they walked toward their rental car and headed to the landing strip.

“Where are you taking me?” she asked.

“Somewhere safe,” said Kegger, smiling down at her. “I need you to smile. We’re supposed to look like a happy American couple.”

“I can’t smile,” she said out of the side of her mouth. “My jaw has been broken twice, and I can’t eat or speak without pain. The face I have is the only one you’re going to get at this point. I’m sorry.” Kegger gripped her hand, giving it a squeeze.

“It’s alright, honey. We know a thing or two about being in pain. Don’t worry. We’ve got someone who can fix that for you.”

She stared at the men as they boarded the plane, wondering if she had gotten herself into a worse situation than the one she left.

“Who are you?” she whispered. Clay looked at the woman and gave a reassuring smile.

“We’re the good guys.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

“Well, I’ve seen worse,” said Lucinda, frowning as she ran her fingers along the woman’s jaw, “but it was a motorcycle gang fight using chains and steel pipes.” Rosalita just nodded, looking away from the doctor.

“It’s alright. I told the man you couldn’t fix it. I’m just going to be pathetically small for the rest of my life.”

“Sweetie, we didn’t say we couldn’t fix it,” smiled Gabi. “We just said we’ve seen worse. It can be fixed, but I won’t lie. It’s gonna hurt like a bitch for a long time.”

“It hurts like a bitch now,” she said without expression. Luke stared at the woman, wondering how she’d managed for this long.

“Why is your English so good?” he asked suspiciously.

“I’m American. My father was the head of a gang in El Paso with ties to the cartels in South America. I didn’t know that until I was older, but he was buying drugs from Ramos. Except he was enjoying the drugs himself and not paying Ramos back. The night he came to collect his money, I happened to be home. I didn’t live with my parents any longer. I was living in Austin, working at the university.

“My father saw his opportunity, selling his own daughter to save his skin. My mother tried to interfere, but Ramos just shot her right at my father’s feet. He never even cried for her. I was dragged away, raped, beaten, and forced to marry him.”

“I’m sorry,” said Luke. “How does he continue to get away with marrying women when he doesn’t divorce the one before?”

“We were married in Mexico on the way back from El Paso. He made sure there was no record of it in Venezuela, and other than his own men, there were no witnesses. All of the others, well, as we know, money talks. He paid the priests and archbishop to either annul the marriages or he did it the old-fashioned way. A bullet. After all, it’s much cheaper than bribing someone.”

“We can make your jaw right,” said Gabi, stepping into the conversation. “Lucinda and I have done surgeries like this before, and we have Gray and Riley as well, who have done more than their fair share of complicated procedures. Our dentist and maxillofacial surgeon, Londyn, will be in the room as well. She’s a miracle worker.”

“Most of my back teeth have been knocked out, so I’m sure I’ll have to do implants or dentures,” she said, blushing with embarrassment.

“Rosalita, there is no need to be embarrassed. You didn’t cause this. You survived, and that’s something many women here understand.”

“My name isn’t Rosalita,” she said, staring at those in the room. “That was the name Ramos gave me when we got married. My name isMorgan Sutton. That’s who I am.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Morgan,” said Kegger, reaching out a hand to the young woman. “We’re glad to have you here.”

“Where is here?” she asked, looking around the room. She knew it was a hospital or clinic, but it was different. The rooms were bright and cheery, with colorful bedding, painted murals on the walls, and beautiful artwork.

“For now, just know that you’re safe,” said Luke. “Very few know where we are, and unless you live here, you can’t get on the property. We are all former military Special Forces.”

“Oh,” she whispered. “Ramos. He was after a Special Forces military man. He had an indigenous last name.”

“What did he say?” asked Luke.

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