Chapter 10
Caitlyn waited for Armando to fall asleep.
He didn’t go down easy without a helpful dose of morphine. His injuries kept him uncomfortable. But he was one of those hyper-alert types who refused to rest, even when he needed it, so that worked in her favor. After a few hours of flexing and pacing, he surrendered to exhaustion. He put all of the drugs in an empty sock and tied it to his drawstring waistband. Then he collapsed on the hospital bed and started snoring.
Ugh.
He was awful. Cold-eyed and hard-faced, with weathered skin and coarse hair. He’d probably kill her as a warm-up before he went on his next rampage. His idea to manipulate the boy wasn’t bad, though. Caitlyn had agreed to team up with Armando, but she didn’t trust him. He was a dangerous psychopath. If she could escape without him, she would.
She let several minutes tick by to make sure he was in a deep sleep. Then she crept across the room on her hands and knees, silent as a cat. She reached the door and peered through the slot. The space was wide enough to stick her arm out to the elbow. She couldn’t see anything in the dark hallway, but she stayed there for a long time, keeping watch. It was an uncomfortable position. Her neck got sore and her knees hurt.
After what felt like hours, the boy walked down the hall. She waved furiously to get his attention. He crouched down to her level, not saying a word. He’d never spoken to her.
“Do you speak English?” she whispered.
“Yes.”
She almost fainted with relief. “Please let me go. I’ll do anything you want.”
A hint of interest flickered in his eyes. Earlier, Armando had perused her figure and dismissed her as a seductress. She’d silently agreed with his assessment, so she hadn’t argued with him. Now she could see that the boy might be susceptible to that kind of offer. He seemed curious about her, at least. She moistened her lips, desperate.
“I can’t,” he said finally.
“He’s okay now. You don’t need me.”
“We need you. For another…paciente.”
Another patient? “No,” she said in a hoarse voice. “I can’t stay here. I have a job, a family. People are looking for me.”
He sighed and shook his head, as if this was a tiresome complaint. All of the hope drained out of her, like water flushing down the toilet. She couldn’t believe she was in this position, begging a teenage boy for favors. Despair overwhelmed her. Then something happened, like a switch inside her. All of the fear and helplessness transformed into anger, which bolstered her courage.
This boy might be underage, but he wasn’t a child. He wasn’t innocent. He knew she was being held against her will. He was a criminal in training, standing between her and freedom.
“I need a shower and clean clothes,” she said. “I won’t see another patient like this.”
“I’m sorry,” he said, starting to rise.
She tried to grab his pant leg, but he moved out of reach. Then she felt the sharp pinprick against her neck, and a crushing fist in her hair.
Armando.
He wasn’t asleep, apparently.
“Open the door,” he said.
“I can’t open the door,” the boy replied. “You’re crazy!”
Armando plunged the needle all the way to the hilt. “Open the door or I’ll fucking kill her.”
Caitlyn screamed as he held the syringe in place, threatening to inject her with an overdose of morphine. Domingo watched with horror. She took several short breaths, on the edge of hysteria. One vial probably wouldn’t kill her, even if he managed to hit the vein, but that was a chance she didn’t want to take. She believed that Armando would do anything to escape.
The two of them had a short conversation in Spanish. Armando growled his responses, seeming impatient. He gripped her hair tight and gave her head a shake for emphasis. She closed her eyes, wincing. To her surprise, his strategy actually worked.
After a tense moment, Domingo opened the door. Armando lifted her upright and dragged her down the hall while the boy stayed behind, frowning. She screamed for help and let her heels slide on the tile floor. Even though she wanted to leave, she didn’t want to go with him.
“Walk,perra.”
“Fuck you.”
