“And if I’m not?” I whispered under my breath, not really wanting to know the answer but having to ask the question because it was a likely outcome. “Worth that much to anybody?”

He looked down at me and smiled, “Oh, I’m sure you’re worth at least that much to your boy Caleb.” He looked me up and down, slow, leering, then smiled widely at me. “Aren’t you darlin’?” I swallowed the bile that time. Where was the bartender? Where had he gone? Did it matter?

He grabbed me, my arm engulfed by one meaty, sweaty hand and he dragged me behind him as I struggled out of his grasp. I was going to make this difficult. He laughed at me the whole way and I knew I’d done more harm to myself, than him.

The house was better kept on the inside than it was on the outside. There were even pictures secured to the concrete walls, mostly religious paintings. Right in front of me, over the small, plastic covered sofa was a picture of Christ on the cross, his expression pained, blood tears running down his face as he stared toward heaven asking why God had forsaken him. I could ask the same question. I’d left the Devil I knew for one I didn’t and it was going to cost me – hopefully a hundred grand, but potentially so much more.

“Where’s the phone?” My voice was hoarse, on the verge of tears. I sucked in desperation and hot air. I prayed Nicole’s family would help me. I wasn’t sure how huge of a long shot it was, if they’d believe me, let alone help me. Would they call the police? Hang up on me?

Tiny pointed to the end of the sofa where an old rotary phone, my lifeline, waited for me to make the most important call of my life.

***

It hadn’t been too difficult to find out where the bartender lived, a simple matter of waiting for the regulars to arrive at the bar and then waiving large American bills. All citizens of dusty countries understood the value of the dollar. American money represented an American life, a chance to pursue a future deserved rather than destined. It was a future worthy of stealing, killing, and selling one’s soul. Caleb couldn’t help but scoff at how easy it had been to find her. He had told her not to be found and he had meant it. Once again she had not listened.

Instead, Caleb had successfully honed in on his target. There was within him a sense of victory. But there was something else too. Conflict. Always conflict when it came to her. What would he do when he saw her? Beat her? Scream at her? Spank her until she wept and begged for mercy or cover her in kisses that would cause the same? He never knew with her, not until the moment took over him, controlled him.

He walked back to the plantation, in no rush to collect his prize. Victory and anger aside, he did not relish any of the things he might have to do next. He hoped the bartender didn’t have a family. He hoped his kitten would come without added agitation. He hoped there would be no one to kill. Still, he doubted each of these scenarios. So he walked. No rush.

As he listened to the warm dirt crunching under his boots he stared out at the landscape of the village. Not far beyond, lay the city. She was out there, beneath one of those many homes made of sand, clay and lime, sweating under a rusted tin roof. There were hundreds of them, sprawling out before him on into the horizon, but it didn’t matter. The city could appear large, but it was very small in every way that mattered. Poverty bred despair and despair bred corruption and corruption would guarantee him safe haven. No matter what happened this night, Caleb would return and not empty-handed.

The heel of his boot hit the ground with a hard crack. She never turned back. Not once. She’d just run away from him. His ire rose. “Do I feel lucky? Yes Kitten, I feel very lucky.” He picked up his pace. It was best to strike while his anger was hot and his passion ice cold.

***

The sun beat down on my shoulders, though it was early evening. Dust covered my body from head to toe and filled my mouth as we tore up the road on Tiny’s motorcycle. Javier had provided me with one of his wife’s dresses to wear. Unfortunately, she was a somewhat larger woman and the dress did little better than the nightgown. But it was black and that was good. I put it on over the nightgown and put on Caleb’s jacket. It was cold comfort compared to what could now happen to me.

Nicole had come through. Or at least she’d promised she would. The moment I heard her voice I had burst into tears of relief and pure joy. She’d cried too. Through the grainy connection I listened to her strained voice explain how she’d never thought I’d run away, not without her. She also made it clear my mother had no such faith in me.

In fact, she held Nicole completely responsible for my disappearance, demanding that the police pull her in for questioning and force her to give up my whereabouts. When that didn’t work, because there was no indication of foul play (my books were never discovered) and I was eighteen, she had gathered up all my stuff and dumped it on Nicole’s front lawn. My mother had yelled at Nicole, called her a whore and self-serving rich girl. She had called me worse. My heart sunk into my stomach, extinguishing some of my joy. Maybe Caleb had been right. Still, Nicole reassured me she would make everything right, call my mother and explain. I told her not to bother. She hadn’t given a damn about me. In some ways, right now, I fucking didn’t care. I wanted to live. I wanted out of this hell.

What I needed was cash, lots of it. A hundred grand to be exact. “Holy shit Livvie! How am I supposed to get that kind of money? My parents are on a cruise right now.” Not what I needed to hear. I had looked up at Tiny and Javier, one of them looked expectant, the other worried his eye on the door. I wish it had been only Javier at the bar, he seemed more malleable, but then again, he also left me there to be captured.

“I need that money Nick. Please,” I said, my voice high and almost screeching. “I don’t know what he’ll do to me.” That quieted her and she was in the middle of telling me something when Tiny took the receiver and made it very clear what would happen to me if she didn’t come through. Everywhere I turned these days I was someone’s property.

He looked down at me. I should have called the cops I thought, staring back at him. But I knew since my own mother had failed to help me, it was all too likely the cops would care even less. Especially in a poor, drug-run country like Mexico. I had a choice between bad, worse and excruciating. It was no choice at all.

“We’re leaving—now.”

I didn’t bother asking where. We drove, too fast for me to consider jumping off but I still had a small sliver of hope that this fucked up plan would work, and I’d be free. As Tiny’s bike slowed down, my heart sped up.

We were headed toward Chihuahua. Nicole would meet us there tomorrow night with the money. How she was going to do it I had no idea. Worse, I didn’t know if she could do it. I only knew she had told Tiny she’d be there with the money. If she was bluffing it didn’t matter, she was buying me time. But first we had to make a stop and pick up the rest of Tiny’s ‘gang’. I was not at all excited to meet more people like Tiny, but as usual I had no choice and no say. I pulled Caleb’s jacket closer to my body.

Traveling more slowly his scent wafted up to my nostrils pulling my thoughts toward him. What would happen now? Was he looking for me? And why did the idea fill me with both a sense of dread and hope? Hope for what? For a moment I wished I had just lain in the bed next to him, given him a chance to be kind. Perhaps he would have let me go eventually. I blinked, hard. You did the right thing Livvie. This can work, it can.

As we pulled up to the run-down house I heard several voices laughing, shouting, or making chatter as loud rock music filled the air. I wobbled and nearly fell when I got off the bike. Tiny laughed as he walked to the door.