ABBIE
Lights flared, illuminating the interior of the warehouse, as I got out of the car. A tall, well-built man with sun-darkened skin, eyes that were blacker than coal, and dark hair, pulled back into a greasy looking ponytail and a thick mustache approached me. A ragged-looking scar ran from his jawline, up the side of his face, and disappeared into his hairline.
“You must be Abbie,” he said, his voice heavily accented. “I've been waiting to meet you.”
I glanced around the warehouse as my heart continued to beat a staccato rhythm in my chest. There were at least two dozen other rough, strong-looking men lounging around – most of them toying with guns and knives.
As if I needed any more reason to be terrified.
“Well, I'm here,” I said. “Now, let Michelle go.”
He smiled, but rather than softening his face, it only made him look scarier. More intimidating. “Afraid I can't do that just yet,” he said. “I need to hold on to the both of you for a little while longer.”
His words sent a bolt of fear through me that not even the sight of guys toying with knives and guns had. Something about the way he spoke and what he said was sinister. And I suddenly had the idea that I wasn't going to get out of this alive.
I wished more than anything in that moment that I'd told King everything. That I'd told him where I was going and what was happening. If somebody could figure out how to handle the situation, he could have. But I'd been so afraid for Michelle that it led me to do something that was looking increasingly stupid. I was alone. And nobody knew where I was.
“What do you want?” I asked, trying to sound a hell of a lot more confident than I felt. “You said if I came, you'd let Michelle go.”
He shook his head. “I never said that. I just said she needed you,” he said. “Turns out, I need you both.”
“Who the hell are you?” I shouted.
Some of the men scattered around the warehouse chuckled and spoke to each other in Spanish. I knew they were talking about me but I didn't understand a word they were saying. But judging by the lascivious way they were looking at me, I wasn't sure I wanted to…
“I am El Segador,” he said. “I lead the Incas.”
I knew who the Incas were thanks to King. Or at least, knew of them. King had given me precious few details about who they were and what they were all about, but I knew enough. They were really bad guys and did really bad things.
And, now, I was their prisoner.
“What do you want from me?” I asked. “Why are you holding my friend?”
He gave me a small smile. “We took your friend to get to you,” he said. “And now we're going to use you to get to your boyfriend.”
“What do you want with King?”
El Segador looked back at his men and that predatory smirk slid across his face again when he looked back at me. “We have some business still to conduct,” he said. “And your man is proving to be a little difficult to work with.”
“Maybe he just doesn't want to work with you,” I said. “Maybe you should find somebody else to be your errand boy.”
He rubbed at the stubble on his jawline. “I like your man, though. He's a man of integrity. A man of his word – ”
“Everything you're not,” I snapped.
El Segador looked at me, a flash of annoyance in his eyes. “You don't know me, puta,” his voice was low and menacing. “So you best watch your mouth.”
“Or what?” I sneered. “I know you can't kill me. You do that, you lose all your leverage with King. He'll never do what you want him to do.”
He shrugged. “No, I can't kill you, puta,” he said. “At least, not yet. But I can hurt you. I can hurt you real bad. And that might make your man even more eager to do what I want him to do just to get me to stop.”
A chill ran through me and my heart was beating harder than I think it ever had in my life. I should have known better than to provoke this man. Danger and malice just radiated from him like heat from a fire. But sometimes, I couldn't keep from shooting my mouth off. Even when it was in my best interest to do so.
“He's not going to do what you want,” I said, my voice trembling. “He is going to protect his guys and his club from creeps like you.”
El Segador shrugged. “If that's the case, then he's going to die,” he said casually. “And you'll follow soon after.”
“Where is my friend?” I asked.
The man looked at me a long moment and then nodded. “Follow me.”
He turned and walked away and I followed him slowly. Not that I had much choice in the matter since a couple of his goons fell into step behind me, making sure I saw the wicked-looking blades in their hands and the guns tucked into the waistband of their pants. They both smirked at me, with the bigger of the two winking and licking his lips at me.
I suppressed a shudder and followed El Segador into an office. The glass in all of the windows had been broken out, there were holes in the walls, and thick cobwebs clung to the corners. Except for all of the trash all over the place, it was empty – except for the one chair in the center of the room. And in that chair was Michelle.
I ran over to her, dropping to my knees and threw my arms around her neck. Michelle began to sob almost uncontrollably.
“It's okay,” I said. “I'm here now.”
Michelle shook her head, her voice thick with her tears. “Why is this happening? Who are these men?”
I checked her over and she was a little bruised up and had a few superficial cuts, but looked otherwise okay – which made me breathe a big sigh of relief. I pulled the blindfold off of her and looked into her wide, terrified eyes.
“Everything's going to be okay, Michelle,” I said.
“I don't understand what's happening,” she sobbed.
“Have they hurt you?” I asked softly.
Michelle shook her head. “Not really,” she said. “A couple of slaps, but that's all.”
I bit back a scream of pain when El Segador grabbed a fistful of my hair and hauled me to my feet. He put his face inches from mine. I could smell the mix of beer and cigarettes on his breath and it made me want to gag.
“There, see?” he said. “Your friend is just fine. Now, it's time to get down to business.”
“What do you want from me?”
He smiled. “Not much,” he said. “Just a picture for now.”
Spinning me around, he put his arm around my neck and pulled me close to his body. Holding my phone up, he planted a kiss on my cheek and took a selfie of us. Laughing, he pushed me toward one of his men who grabbed hold of my arm and held me fast.
“We're going to send this little picture to your man,” El Segador said. “Show him we're treatin' you real good here.” The man scrolled through my phone, looking for King's number. He pushed a few buttons and then I heard the distinctive sound of a text message going through.
“What did you tell him?” I asked.
He shrugged. “I just asked if he was ready to do business,” he said. “Or if I needed to start sending him your fingers one at a time until he was.” A moment later, my phone chirped, announcing a new text message. El Segador looked at me and grinned. “It's your man,” he said. “He seems to have a temper on him. Is he always this angry with you?”
“Fuck you,” I spat.
El Segador shrugged. “Then again, maybe you two are perfect for each other,” as he keyed in another response and sent it. “There. Now, he has the address where he can find you.” Another message from King came through and El Segador smiled. He walked over and showed it to me. I'm coming for you, you piece of shit, it read. You're FUCKING DEAD! “Now, we just sit back and wait for your man to show up,” he said. “And we've got a few surprises for him when he does.”
I was forced to sit down in a chair next to Michelle as El Segador left the room. His men stood at the door, glaring at us. All I could do was sit there and wait – and pray King was smart enough to know he was walking into a trap and to have a plan in place.