Lauren may have her head in the right place, and as fucked up as it is, she was right when she reminded me that these women aren’t her mission. Technically, they aren’t mine either. I’m supposed to get in good with Gonzalo’s crew to figure out where that fucker is so he can be taken out, but I can’t ignore what’s in the basement.
I may be working, but we—the FBI and I—are using these women as pawns, keeping them locked in cages like circus animals instead of human beings. And the torture isn’t just happening here. Their families miss them. Their coworkers. Everyone in their lives are left wondering when they vanished. It has to be the worst kind of pain not knowing if you should hold out hope or begin to grieve.
My office door swings open, the heavy wood banging against the wall, the doorknob leaving a dent in the drywall.
Angel is fuming fucking mad, and he should be.
“Are you mad because I killed him or because you didn’t get to do it yourself?”
I aim for nonchalance. I don’t need him to know I’m just as pissed off and worked up as he is.
He doesn’t answer, his breaths rushing out of his flared nose like an angry bull getting ready to charge.
I let him pace, keeping my mouth shut from informing him that he can do it all damn day, but I know from experience it won’t help.
Several minutes pass with me leaned against my desk, arms crossed over my chest as he walks the length of my office and back over and over.
Then without a word, he just walks out, leaving my office door standing wide open.
I’ve never been involved with someone undercover that gave me whiplash. Is Angel a friend or an enemy?
The jury is still out on that one.
Chapter 11
Cara
“You can trust him.”
Those whispered words come from Lola.
“What?” the girl to the right of my cage snaps.
She was the first one to speak up after Juan’s body was dragged away. She introduced herself as Penny, and it wasn’t until she spoke that I realized just how quiet we’d been down here.
“After what he did to you?” Penny hisses.
“You can trust him,” Lola says again, but she doesn’t go into further detail or offer an explanation.
At first, I figured it was Stockholm syndrome. Why else would a woman claim that her rapist could be trusted?
But then I remember the way his eyes came directly to mine almost the second he got down here. Then the way he looked at me again before walking away.
Is he actually protecting us?
Did he kill Juan because he dared to touch one of his toys?
He made it clear with a single shot that we were not to be touched, but that doesn’t mean that he won’t do it himself.
You can trust him.
I don’t know what to believe. He didn’t touch me when I was in his office, and I’m still wearing the socks he gave me yesterday. He gains nothing from tricking me into trusting him. He could’ve done whatever he wanted to me while I was in that office. I would’ve fought him, but we both know how it would’ve ended. There was genuine concern in his eyes when he glanced at me earlier.
Maybe that’s his sick, twisted kink. Maybe building trust only to rip it away is his thing. It’s possible, right? He knows he can do what he wants, but convincing a captive to do what he wants, that’s the real challenge.
You can trust him.
I shake my head as if Lola can see my answer to her statement.
It’s exhaustion. That’s all it is. I’m questioning everything because I’m trying to find a reason for why all of this happened, and if Javier isn’t a monster, then maybe something makes sense. Maybe there are higher powers at work here.
But fantasies don’t become reality just because you start to believe the lies. That’s a sign of being delusional.
“My name is Megan.”
I try to look in that direction, but of course I can’t see any better now than I could any other time I tried. These monsters were very strategic in the way they placed these cages.
“Why did he choose me?” Megan sobs. Her quiet cries haven’t stopped since Juan came down the stairs and went directly to her enclosure.
“He’s a piece of shit, and he’s dead,” Lola says.
“I was supposed to meet a guy for a date.” Megan sniffles. “I’d been talking to him for a few weeks. He said he was out of town for business, and there was only this small window of opportunity for us to meet before he had to leave again for work.”
“The same thing happened to me,” Penny explains. “He picked me up in Tacoma before he got you.”
“I was in Eugene, Oregon. My full name is Megan Renee Waterford. Please remember that. My parents are Marcell and Bettany. Bettany with two Ts, not Bethany with an H. If anyone gets out of here, please tell them that I love them and that I’m sorry.”