Unholy Vows: Chapter 33

I woke in a cramped position, my legs screaming at me to straighten them. The smell of gasoline filled my nose, making me dizzy. I had a terrible headache, red tinting my vision as I looked around. I was bound and gagged again, and this time, in a tiny trunk. My face hurt, and my ribs weren’t much better. Clearly, they’d kept on kicking me, even after I’d passed out.

We were still moving, the vehicle rocking over rough terrain.

Lucy wasn’t here. Fear threatened to paralyze me as I lay there. I couldn’t afford to hyperventilate in the trunk. I’d run out of air too fast.

I had to repeat a simple chant to catch my breath.

Ren will find Lucy. He’ll bring the might of the De Sanctis family down on these fuckers and not one will walk away. He’ll save her, and then he’ll save me. He’ll save her.

My hands were bound behind my back, and my shoulders ached. Somehow, in my sleep, my fingers had found the rosary beads. I ran my fingertips over the smooth spheres.

“Make a wish, kid.” I heard my Da’s voice in my head.

But rosary beads didn’t work like that. I knew that better than anyone. Instead, I held each bead and prayed to the vengeful god I had promised my soul to.

My husband.

We stopped somewhere for a long time before we started moving again. I had to pee. I couldn’t hold it, so I didn’t. What did I care about messing up my kidnapper’s trunk? Sure, it was embarrassing, but it was just biology. I wouldn’t let them make me feel ashamed.

When we finally stopped, I’d begun to think I was going to run out of air. My head pounded from the blow and then the hours of exhaust poisoning.

When the trunk opened, I wasn’t in a state to fight or do anything but be roughly manhandled out of the space. Laughter and taunts reached me. Maybe passing out would be preferable after all?

My knees, hurt earlier from falling in the tunnel, scraped painfully along the gravel road while they dragged me into a building.

I glanced around as I managed to get my feet under me. I wanted to walk into whatever was coming, not be dragged. It was a house, a big fancy one. Windows along one wall revealed the shore and boats docked at a private marina.

“Hurry up,” someone grunted behind me and pushed me forward.

A picture of a family hung on the wall. White, middle class, and perfectly ordinary in every way. I didn’t recognize any of them.

We went through double doors into a huge lounge. The middle-class suburban luxury theme continued with velvet couches, a fireplace, and fake flowers on every surface. A chessboard sat in the window and a huge TV loomed above the mantle. It was an utterly ordinary scene and didn’t fit with the general aura of violence coming from the man waiting for us there. He wasn’t the man in the picture outside. This man spoke in rapid-fire Spanish to his men, then turned a charming smile on me.

“Mrs. De Sanctis, what an honor.” A Castillo. Maybe the Castillo. The one Renato had been searching for. He pointed to the couch. “Sit.”

One of the men said something about me having wet myself, sniggering.

The boss shrugged. “It’s not my couch. Sit.”

I sank down on the soft surface, dizzy. My head was really sore. I might have a concussion. I tried to breathe deeply to calm my nerves.

“Let me introduce myself, I’m Juan Ruiz Eduardo Castillo.”

“I guessed,” I managed to get out around my swollen lips. “My husband’s been looking for you. He’ll be so pleased to finally find you.”

Juan laughed. “Except he hasn’t found me, you have. Well, technically, we found you and your sister, finally.”

I swallowed hard. “He will, though. As long as you have either of us, Renato will find us, and he won’t be forgiving.”

“What great confidence you have in the man who kidnapped you in the first place,” Juan mused.

I held my tongue and glared at him. He approached me, laid a hand on the back of the couch, and brought his hand to my bruised cheek. “I wonder what this dirt is hiding? Whatever it is, it was enough to enthrall a discerning man like De Sanctis. Maybe I should find out for myself.”

I refused to respond to that, channeling Renato’s deadly silence. I simply stared at him.

He tilted his head to the side, considering me. “Rumor has it that the untouchable king of AC has fallen in love. A weakness, at last, after so long. And then there’s your sister.”

“What does she have to do with anything?”

“She was there when Miguel died. He was a Castillo, you know, and we have a tradition in our family.” He took a switchblade from his suit pocket and flicked it open. “An eye for an eye,” he said, watching my eyes widen in fear. Savoring it.

“How original. Did you come up with that yourself?” I bit out. I couldn’t help myself. Whatever was going to happen here was going to happen regardless of what I said or did. So, fuck them.

A flash of anger rippled through Juan. He brought the knife to my eyebrow and trailed it down my face, circling my eye. “Shall I take it literally? Would Renato still want you if I blinded you?”

I met his stare unflinchingly.

He broke off after a moment of tense silence and chuckled. He withdrew his knife, and I took a quick breath, the dizziness still clouding my thoughts.

“I see what interested him about you, Mrs. De Sanctis. Your job isn’t to bleed. It’s to be bait. Your sister, though…she’ll bleed for Miguel. She’s the eye I’ll take in exchange for the loss.”

I felt sick. “The police are looking for her, did you know that? Searching for her might lead her to your men.”

It was a weak argument to make, but I had nothing else.

Juan smirked. “Who do you think told us where to look for her?”

His words hit me like a bucket of ice water. What the hell?

“Whose house do you think this is? It isn’t mine,” he said, crouching in front of me and waving his hand around. “People in high places are sick of the stranglehold Renato De Sanctis has over this state, and they’re finally going to do something about it. The King of AC’s kingdom is about to come crashing down. You and your sister are just the beginning of it.”

“You think you and your little ragtag operation of thugs can take on the De Sanctis family? You’re delusional.”

“You’ll see. Maybe I’ll keep you around long enough to see your husband kneel to me, and then I’ll kill you and make him watch before I end him. That has a nice symmetry to it, doesn’t it?”

“Sounds like a loser’s wet dream,” I spit at him, trying to hide my fear at his words. “You’re no match for him on his worst day.”

A muscle twitched in Juan’s jaw. He glared at me and then shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe he won’t even come for you, his forced, unimportant little wife. Maybe we’re both delusional to think that he’d care at all about you or your sister.”

No. You’re wrong. He’ll come for me, as surely as the sun will rise in the east. I didn’t voice that conviction, it was too damning, but I knew it in my bones. All my life, I’d struggled to trust that someone would come through for me, but now, it seemed impossible that Renato wouldn’t come for me. He’d rip the world apart to find me. There was no question.

“Take her upstairs and out of my sight. She stinks,” Juan said with a cruel smile.

Choke on it, fucker, I thought mutinously as I was manhandled out of the room.

“Wait!” Juan called before his goons could drag me away. He rose smoothly, making a show of fastidiously picking lint off his shiny, pinstripe suit as he approached.

Another layer of fear washed over me, deeper and more terrifying than before. What was he going to do? It was easier to talk back when he was safely across the other side of the room. This man was nothing like my husband. He had no soft spot for me. He could do whatever he wanted.

Juan stopped in front of me and whistled, circling a finger in the air, indicating for his men to turn me around. Then I was facing away from the boss and waiting to see what the hell he wanted.

Juan whistled. “A religious woman, are you, Mrs De Sanctis?” His hand brushed over the rosary wrapped around my wrist.

“If I said yes, would you let me go?” I attempted.

He snorted. “Cute.” He fumbled at my wrist and sharp pain sliced my skin. I was hauled back around and Juan stood before me, smirking. The rosary was in his fist, cut open. He folded his knife and tucked it away. The place where he’d cut me while taking off the rosary burned. I felt naked without it, for some reason.

Juan lifted the beaded necklace and turned it around, studying it. Had my husband tracked Lucy with it? Juan smirked.

“Here,” he tossed the rosary to one of his men. “Take this out and ride around with it. Let’s not make it too easy on the King of AC. Making him sweat a little will make him more open to negotiating, and if not, maybe worrying about this bitch will disturb that damn infamous calm and he’ll fuck up.”

Juan leaned in, sending me reeling back. “If that’s the case, then I’ll be moving into Casa Nera by the weekend.”

The thought of the Castillo Cartel moving into Casa Nera was abhorrent. I didn’t know when exactly I’d started to consider that place home, but somehow, it had happened. It wasn’t dark and disturbing, not really. It was cozy and classic, an ode to history which my husband was determined to preserve. Most of all, the thought of the De Sanctis men being killed by these thugs hurt my heart. Surely, it was impossible. The De Sanctis family was too powerful.

“That’ll never happen. He outclasses you in every way,” I said, when Juan was clearly waiting for an answer. Juan’s hand connected with my face before I even saw it move. Pain blossomed along my jaw as my teeth clicked hard, cutting the edge of my tongue. Blood filled my mouth as I fell to the floor. Nice timing Juan and his thugs had, given that they’d let go of me just in time for their boss to slap me around. I landed hard on my side, my hands tied behind me with no chance of breaking my fall. My shoulder hit the small table in the window, sending the chess board crashing to the floor. The pieces scattered, but one remained.

The King. Standing alone.

‘Get her up,” Juan drawled lazily. Clearly hitting a woman in the face helped him calm down. “Your husband should have taught you how to speak to a man.”

I lifted my head, blood dripping from the corner of my mouth. The pain clashed with fear and anxiety inside me, but I couldn’t let this man see it. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

“He’s going to make you regret that,” I said, my tongue thickening in my mouth.

“Let’s see, shall we?” Juan mused and then flicked his fingers toward the doors. “Take her.”

“To a bedroom?”

“No. The basement. We wouldn’t want the King of AC to think we didn’t know how to treat his wife.”