She hit send and stared at the message string. It was foolish to hope Valeria would answer now. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe next week. Her sister didn’t play this game every day, and it was late.
To her shock, a bubble with three dots inside appeared next to her sister’s screen name. Laila swiped at her tears, her heart racing as she waited.
The water cut off in the shower. Victor stepped out of the enclosure.
Type faster, she silently demanded of her sister.
She had maybe a minute—no more—before he emerged from the bathroom. She needed this message almost more than she needed to breathe. She would mourn Trees for the rest of her life. Avenge him, of course. As soon as she could put a bullet in Victor and get out of the country safely, she would. But right now she needed to know that her family was safe.
I am so relieved you are alive, but I will not let you suffer Victor again. When you pinpoint your location, tell me. I will get word to Trees. He did not die. He is still in Mexico, planning to rescue you tonight.
Laila’s eyes nearly popped from her head. Trees was alive? Shock pinged through her veins and her mouth gaped. How was that possible? Who had helped him? It didn’t matter; he was alive!
New tears—happy ones—trembled on her lashes. But reason tempered her thrill. Trees must be injured; he had nearly been killed. He shouldn’t try to save her now. She couldn’t let him. The last time had nearly been his death. This time, Victor would leave nothing to chance.
She had to stop Trees.
Victor jiggled the handle of the doorknob. She wished she had time to reread her sister’s message—had she truly read it right?—but the door squeaked as he opened it.
Biting back a gasp, she closed the app, darkened the phone, then settled the device on the table. She nudged it just beyond her reach, hoping that would allay Victor’s suspicions.
As she sat on the bed again, he emerged around the corner, looking between her and his phone with narrowed eyes. “What are you up to?”
“Nothing.” She fidgeted. “Trying to get comfortable.”
As if the notion of her well-being bored him, he shrugged and produced a blade. She flinched as her fear spiked, but he merely cut the zip tie and gestured her toward the bathroom. “Shower now. Then you can get comfortable—on your back with your legs spread. I want that pussy.”
Since he had the upper hand—for now—Laila nodded meekly as he opened his bottle of tequila and sat on the bed, watching her with a leer. Best not to infuriate him. It was more important to live another day so she could get revenge and escape.
After she ensured Trees didn’t risk his life for her again.
In the bathroom, she peeled off her clothes and climbed into the minuscule cubicle. No wonder Victor hadn’t demanded sex here. In this tiny space, violating her would be virtually impossible. But he wouldn’t deny his pleasure for long. Laila didn’t think she could endure his touch. She could barely stand the sight of him, the smell of him. Even the idea of him made her stomach turn.
She’d have to deal with that, too. Keeping Trees from risking himself to rescue her came first. Since she couldn’t call him or contact him through the gaming app, she had to get clever. But even if she could warn him, what were the chances he would heed her?
I will never leave you. I will never stop coming for you.
He meant that. He’d already traveled all the way from Louisiana to rescue her. Why would he stop when he was less than two hours away, especially after Matt had likely told him that Victor had dragged her from him against her will?
Laila sighed. How could she persuade a man determined to save her, who thought he was in love with her, from putting himself in harm’s way again?
She couldn’t…unless she gave him a reason not to love her anymore.
As she rinsed the blood and grime from her body, Laila turned over ideas in her head. Nothing came to her…until something terrible did.
No. She couldn’t. There must be some other way that wouldn’t put Trees through hell.
Like what?
She had nothing else, and time was running out. This idea… Dios, could she actually find the fortitude to go through with it? Then again, what choice did she have? This was her last resort. The worst part was, after she risked everything to save Trees, he would never speak to her again.
Laila clutched the wall and bowed her head, sobs wracking her as if someone had opened her chest and all the emotions she’d tried so hard to hide were spilling out. She gave herself over to the gaping wound of sorrow and mourned—for the breaking of her heart, for the happiness she and Trees would never share, for the damage she would do to the only man who had ever been good and kind to her. For knowing that he would soon look at her with hate.
Everything she had ever wanted or treasured slipped through her fingers. First, her freedom. Then, her mother. And now Trees. God, would she ever stop losing?
Laila dragged in a ragged breath and forced herself to stop wallowing in self-pity. Trees was more important than heartbreak. More important than pain and humiliation. Even more important than her own existence. No matter how much this plan devastated them both, she consoled herself with the knowledge that at least he would be alive to turn his back on her.
Finally, she dried her tears. Then she forced herself to stop crying and accept what had to be done. Besides, she couldn’t go to Victor with puffy eyes and a red nose. He would be able to sniff out her scheme. As always, tears were a luxury she could not afford.
Her first priority was to ensure Victor consumed too much tequila and focused on sex. She would handle the rest.
* * *
“Buddy, you’ve got to lie down.” Matt pushed him back to the makeshift bed in the doctor’s back room.
Trees resisted, trying to vault to his feet. “Like hell. Laila is out there, under Victor’s thumb, and I—”