Chapter 28
Slowly, my legs propelled me forward. The silence was suffocating. The atmosphere was thick with something—something I couldn't quite name. Was I the reason some men broke into a fucking kingpin's house? That's messed up.
Mr. Montoya didn't ask me a damn question after the phone call, and I felt like I was being sentenced without a trial. I followed as he led us through the secret tunnel back to Carlitos's room. It was safe to come out now. I shuddered as an unexplainable fever took over my whole body.
"The drawing room," Mr. Montoya announced our next destination.
I marched forward in a daze. Why me? I'd lived a somewhat quiet life up until that very moment. When we got to the door of the drawing room, there was a hesitation, as if to delay the unknown a little bit more. Mr. Montoya gave a small glance in my direction before he turned the handle and opened the door.
Inside, there was a group of men. Some stood, while a smaller portion was on their knees. The men who stood were clad in the estate's uniform, while the men who knelt were the intruders who had not only trashed the place but had also been trashed themselves. Cuts, bruises, and bloodstains covered their bodies.
I noticed lifeless bodies on the ground too, their faces hidden and bodies twisted unnaturally. I looked around slightly but didn't find the kids; they had simply disappeared. My eyes fell on Mr. Montoya.
His eyes watched me like a hawk. His intense gaze burrowed into the depths of my soul. I turned my eyes to the group of men we had found inside the room. The intruders, all six of them, looked at me as well. I didn't know or recognize any one of them, so why should they come for me?
The hush in the room was deafening. It had been quiet since Mr. Montoya and I had walked in. The guards had greeted him with a bow upon his arrival. I watched the straightened backs of the guards as they waited to execute any instructions issued by their boss.
"Who sent you?" Mr. Montoya asked at last. He didn't shout. Not a raise of voice. He spoke calmly, and that's what made him dangerous.
None of the intruders answered. I didn't believe that they hadn't heard him. A guard sent a hard slap across the face of one of the intruders, who appeared to be their leader. I flinched.
"Who is it you're looking for?" Mr. Montoya continued to interrogate. Every single one of the intruders looked up at me, and their leader spoke.
"Alice Ramírez, daughter of Diego Ramírez."
My name. I thought Mr. Montoya was confused when he announced that I was whom they broke into the house for. And not just my name, but my father's name as well.
Something inside me lurched violently, as if my past had just been dragged into the room and thrown at my feet.
The door opened from behind, and a familiar female voice spoke coldly, "You sent for me, sir."
I didn't need to look back to know Lucy had just walked in. What was she doing here? Was she called to clean up the mess?
"Sir, this could be settled quickly and without any drama. Our boss just wants to have a little chat with her, nothing serious," the leader of the intruders spoke up. "Who sent you?" Mr. Montoya asked. "Fernando Alcázar," was the reply.
I've heard that surname before, but my brain was so foggy I couldn't pinpoint where.
"Is that so?" Mr. Montoya asked, and I could hear the smirk in his voice.
"Yes," came the reply.
I looked at Mr. Montoya and saw Lucy standing beside him.
She was in her brown uniform. The look in her eyes, though, was nothing Lucy-like. I couldn't hold it against her; she probably thought the worst of me, just like Mr. Montoya.
If only they knew I didn't know these men. Mr. Montoya and Lucy went to the far end of the room, and they whispered for a while as they cast side glances my way.
I didn't know what scared me more: the men who came for me or the man deciding whether to give me to them.
At last, after a moment that felt like a thousand years, Mr. Montoya and Lucy approached.
"How long is this little chat supposed to take?" Mr. Montoya asked the leader of the intruders. My head, which I had held up high, sagged.
I couldn't believe he was negotiating to have me taken by strangers. I knew I was a nobody to the family, but it still hurt to think I wasn't valued.
"I can't say, but it'll take a while," the leader replied.
"She is one of my skilled staff, and she has loads of work to do; you should understand that," Mr. Montoya said, and an intruder with a swollen cheek scoffed.
"Fernando Alcázar sent you," Mr. Montoya said and nodded slowly. "That explains the arrogance," he added pointedly.
"It explains why you should listen," the leader spoke.
"No…it explains why you're still alive. I like to understand who I'm killing," Mr. Montoya countered.
"Give her to us, and this ends here," the leader said.
"You don't have the luxury to make that kind of demand," Mr. Montoya warned as his hand tightened slightly around the gun. It was enough to remind everyone in the room who controlled the outcome.
For a brief second, his gaze flicked to me. Not soft. Not warm. Not even sympathetic. It was calculating.
"You broke into my home, shot at my men, and terrified my children. That calls for punishment. But since it's the girl you need, we'll do this my way," he said, looking at Lucy. Lucy nodded and walked to me.
She took my arm and led me out of the room. I didn't resist; I just followed her like a cow to slaughter. We walked until we reached a door. Lucy opened it and led me inside.
The room was dimly lit by the sun rays that peeked through the fallen curtains. It was fairly big. Some equipment I'd never seen before was scattered all around the place.
"Take off your bra and hand it to me," Lucy said.
"Why?" I asked.
"Orders from Big Gun," she said simply as an explanation.
"What? You want to hand my bra to Mr. Montoya?" I asked.
"Will you do as you're told?" Lucy retorted.
"It's not fair, Lucy, how you treat me. I thought we were friends. I'm very shaken and very confused. The least you could do is tell me what the fuck is going on," I nearly screamed the last bit.
The silence stretched for a few beats. Lucy walked to a shelf in the room and picked something up, then she walked back to me.
"I don't know what's happening, too, but all I can understand is that you're suspected to be a spy for a gang drug lord, and he sent his men to bring you over," she finally spoke.
"I'm not a spy, I swear," I said as I looked at her pleadingly. I hoped she believed me and, in turn, explained to Mr. Montoya that this was all a mix-up. A misunderstanding. I was desperate for it to end without escalation.
"Your bra, Alice," Lucy said.
A breath left me. A breath of frustration. I reached behind to unclasp my bra hook under my top. Lucy turned slightly to give a mock sense of privacy. I handed her the bra, and she fixed the tiny implements she'd plucked off the shelf earlier.
"Standard procedure," Lucy said. "Hidden transmitters. Tracking devices. You'd be surprised where they hide them."
When she was done, she handed the bra back to me. "You can put it on. Excuse me," Lucy said and left the room.
What was I to do now? Run off? Pretend to be another staff member and leave the estate? Would they manage to find me again? If I left now for my old life, would I put my aunt and friends in danger?
Certainly. That wasn't an option. I could call Cynthia, though, and tell her about this. How would she take it?
I put my bra back on. Cynthia would be so afraid. She would make me quit my job. The scare would definitely be too great for my Tía Elena's heart to handle. I wasn't going to call Cynthia.
I sadly and slowly realized how I was truly alone.
Lucy came back to the room with a very small cloth-like bag and a rope. She walked up to me. "What are you doing?" I asked, backing up. She didn't trust me, so why should I trust her?
"Keep still. It's for the best," was her reply. Her small legs ate up the distance between us, and she placed the cloth-like material over my head. Complete darkness greeted me. The bag smelled of corn. Then she gave an instruction not to pull it off. I adhered, stupidly.
The door opened, and I assumed she went out again. She'd brought the rope but hadn't bothered to use it. I was about to lift my hands to take the cover off when the door opened again.
Pain exploded at the side of my head, and the world vanished.