Page 13 of Bad Rio
“Your hair. It does smell like little yellow flowers.”
****
From freezing coldto a raging fever, Becca spent a miserable night. When she grew hot, Rio lifted the covers off her body, fanned her, gave her water. When she chilled down again, he pulled the quilts over them both and held her close. She wouldn’t admit it, but she was grateful for his big warm body. It kept the frigid air at bay.
He did it all impersonally, with a calm manner of one assigned a task which simply must be done.
At dawn her fever broke for good, and she was left listless, but better. She had to use the restroom, but so loathe to leave her cozy nest, she waited until she was near bursting before she told him.
In the end, she struggled to put on her pants and shoes, and by the time she had them on, she was completely winded. Rio had to carry her through the snow to the underbrush, and return when she was finished to lift her into his arms and carry her back.
When she was settled, he offered her peanut butter spread on hard crackers and canned peaches, more water, and a few grapes. Hungry at last, she ate it all and lay back again. “You said we might leave today. So I can go home.”
Considering her, he shrugged. “You’re too weak to hang onto the scooter. It’ll be rough terrain. For miles. Maybe tomorrow.” He zipped into his heavy coat and jammed a cap on his head. Over his neck he looped a pair of field glasses. “I’ll hike up the mountain, have a look around.”
“You’re going?” Instantly she felt anxious. She didn’t want to be left alone—here in this wilderness.
“There’s food and water in the cooler, if you get hungry.”
“How long will you be gone?”
He lifted a careless shoulder. “Few hours.” He turned to go.
“Rio?”
“Yeah?”
“How much are you being paid? How much money?” For some reason she really wanted to know.
“A lot,” he said. “A small fortune, but not as much as the cartel would get for your ransom, that’s for sure.”
Becca firmed her lips. How tired she was of being a pawn in someone else’s high-stakes game. How bitter it made her! “I’m just dollar bills to both you and the cartel,” she said. “Just cold hard cash.”
“Correct.” From a hook on the wall, he collected a pair of heavy gloves.
“Gee, thanks.”
He hesitated. “If I was smart, I’d contact the cartel boys and cut a deal. Probably I’d get a lot more money. The way I’m doing it now, I’m leaving a lot of cash on the table.” Clicking his tongue in regret, he left, slamming the door behind him.
Becca blinked at the now closed door. Alarm shrieked up her spine and adrenalin shot through her veins. With both fists, she gripped the quilts.
Before Rio changed his mind, decided that the cartel would pay him more than whoever it was that hired him, she had to get out here.
She must escape.
