Page 97 of Miguel
Okay. I took a deep breath, trying to control my fear.
What did I know?
I knew that these men were Americans from the U.S., and that they were Los Diablos’ enemies. From context clues, they dealt in illegal shit.
People.
Human traffickers? Most likely. And Los Diablos messed with their ‘product.’
For a second, a fierce feeling of pride swelled in my chest. I hadn’t asked Miguel what him and Los Diablos had done, but the fact that they’d fucked up their business dealings and prevented them from buying or hurting anyone else?
Good.
I hoped whoever they’d hurt was free.
Now, what didn’t I know?
I didn’t know if Zeke was safe with his father. I didn’t know where the fuck I was, or if Los Diablos would even find me. Or how.
I needed to move. Take advantage of this time I had alone to make a plan and move.
But first I needed to get out of my bonds.
Testing the ties at my wrists, I held my breath, wriggling my wrists and hands around, trying to see if the rope would give.
I wasn’t sure how long I tested the bonds, but by the time I stopped, my wrists were rubbed raw, skin chafed from how hard I’d tried only to fail.
I cursed and adjusted my posture. I couldn’t think about failure at a time like this. It was crucial I stay positive and think of a way to get out of here.
Groaning, I pushed myself to my legs, a feat that proved difficult with my arms aching and tethered at my back. When I did, my legs were shaking, and I tried to stand firm as I took a tentative step across the room. I kept my eyes on the door, fearful they would come crashing back in and point their guns at me again.
All seemed quiet on the other side, so I made my way towards the far walls where the windows were high up. There was nothing even remotely near the walls, and even if I jumped there was no way I could hold onto the ledge of the window or fit through the damn thing. It was smaller than my ass.
Fuck.
Still, I jumped, if only to see how far I could go. Unfortunately, my jump was sloppy and I teetered to the side and fell right on my thigh.
I muffled my curse behind closed lips at the jolt of pain as something poked into my body. Fuck. What the fuck was that?
I jerked against my bonds like I meant to reach into my pocket to feel what I’d landed on, forgetting entirely.
“Fuck.”
I forced myself back to my feet and went back to my corner against the wall. Sitting straight, I twisted my arms around, popping my bones in the process and pulling a muscle while I reached into the pocket of my dress.
My fingers closed around plastic and pulled it out. Using memory and touch alone, I felt my breath catch in my throat as I realized what it was.
Zeke’s hearing aid case.
I’d taken his hearing aids out because he kept playing with them and wincing every time a car passed by and honked.
Thank God for deep pockets on skirts.
Relying on muscle memory, I flicked the case open and reached inside for his aids, feeling them for the buttons and turned them on. The beep sounded loud in the space and I cringed, gaze darting up to the door. I held my breath and waited a second. When no one came inside, I closed the case back up and twisted to shove it back into my pocket again.
Just in time too.
Because a moment later, the door screeched open and my captors came inside.
