Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 80139 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 401(@200wpm)___ 321(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80139 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 401(@200wpm)___ 321(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
I hold my breath.
A knock sounds against the bedroom door.
Three soft taps.
Esmeralda trembles beside me.
“Robin.”
God. Cruz. My heart punches against my ribs.
“It’s me,” he says. “Cruz.”
For a second, I can’t move.
His voice is different.
Esmeralda’s eyes meet mine in the darkness of the armoire.
Another knock.
“It’s all right,” Cruz says. “I took care of him.”
Took care of him.
I know what those words mean.
I push the armoire door open.
Light spills in, making me blink. Esmeralda climbs out after me on unsteady legs.
I cross the room and open the bedroom door. Cruz stands in the hallway. For one terrible second, I don’t recognize him.
His face is covered in blood.
Not completely, but enough. A smear across his jaw. A streak near his temple. Blood at the corner of his mouth. More on his throat. His shirt is stained. His hands are worse.
Red.
So much red.
My first thought is that he’s hurt.
Esmeralda makes a broken sound behind me.
I step forward. “What happened?”
Cruz’s jaw flexes. “Are you okay?” He nods to Esmeralda. “Both of you?”
Esmeralda swallows and then nods shakily. “I don’t know where Mercedes or the rest of the girls are.”
“Probably in their rooms,” he says. He slowly cranes his neck toward where he came from. “I took care of it.”
His teeth are gritted so hard the words barely make it out.
“That’s not an answer.”
“It is the only one we have time for.”
Esmeralda appears beside me, clutching her robe closed. “What do we do now?”
“We need to get everyone out,” Cruz says.
“Is Mercedes okay?” I ask.
“As far as I know. I haven’t checked every room.”
Esmeralda’s face crumples. “Señora?”
Cruz goes still.
No.
No, no.
His throat moves. “She’s dead.”
Esmeralda’s knees buckle.
I catch her before she hits the floor.
“No,” she whispers. “No.”
Cruz closes his eyes for half a second.
When he opens them, there’s something raw in his face that makes my chest hurt even through the fear.
“She answered the door,” he says. “Zabala shot her. In cold blood.”
Esmeralda cries out.
I hold on to her tighter.
Zabala.
The man from the prison.
The man who thought it was okay to force himself on me.
“He killed her?” I ask.
“Yes.”
“And Zabala?”
Cruz looks down at his bloody hands. A silence passes. Then, “An eye for an eye.”
Esmeralda gasps.
I stare at him.
His face hardens. “He got what he deserved.”
Cruz killed Zabala.
I should feel horrified.
I do.
But not only horrified.
That’s the part I don’t want to examine.
Because Señora V is dead. Because Zabala came here with a gun. Because if Cruz hadn’t stopped him, he’d be dead. Esmeralda would be dead. Mercedes. Me. Everyone.
The Ace of Spades flashes in my mind.
Death.
Every prediction comes true…in a way. That’s what Esmeralda said.
The hair on the back of my neck stands on end.
I swallow hard. “Cruz.”
He shakes his head once.
Not now.
Right.
Not now.
He looks at Esmeralda. “Zabala won’t be the last.”
Her face is wet with tears. “What do you mean?”
“When he doesn’t return, Vega will send someone else.” Cruz’s voice sharpens. “As soon as he tries to contact Zabala and gets no response, he’ll send more men. Not one. Not two. An army.”
My stomach turns to ice.
“Here?” Esmeralda whispers.
“Yes.”
“But Señora—” Her voice breaks. “This is her house.”
“Right now it’s a target. As long as I’m alive, it’ll be a target. I should never have come here. And now you all have to leave.”
Esmeralda takes in a short breath. “I can’t.”
“You have to.”
“No.” She shakes her head wildly. “Where will we go?”
“A hotel. Family. Anywhere.”
She presses a hand to her chest, trying to breathe.
“I know where Señora keeps the money,” he says. “It’ll be enough to get you and the rest of the girls to a safe place.”
“Cruz,” I say carefully. “What are you doing?”
“Señora would want the women cared for. And it’s not like she needs it now,” he adds, his lip twitching.
“It’s not that,” I say. “And of course I want the girls safe. But I—”
He raises a hand. “We don’t have any more time. Stay here. I’ll check and make sure the others are okay. Then I’ll get the money.”
“Please—”
He leaves without letting me finish. Esmeralda and I stare at each other, saying nothing.
He’s back within ten minutes with a black leather bag. He shoves it at Esmeralda. “It’s filled with Colombian pesos. Enough to help you and the others get to safety.”
“How much is that?” I ask.
“Probably around five hundred US dollars.”
Esmeralda shakes her head. “I can’t take this.”
“You can.”
“No, Cruz—”
“You can, and you will.” His voice roughens. “Take the money. It’s what Señora would want. It’s what I want.”
She gulps and takes the bag.
“Get Mercedes. Get everyone working here. Anyone in the back. Tell them to take what they can carry quickly, not everything they own. Nothing that slows them down. No one stays.”
“What about Señora V?” Esmeralda whispers.
Cruz flinches. “We can’t take her with us.”
Esmeralda sniffles, tears falling faster. “We can’t leave her.”
“If we stay to mourn her, we die beside her.” Cruz inhales. “She’s in a better place now. It’s just her body left behind.”