“She wants to be a stripper. The clubs in America pay better, and you don’t have to turn tricks, although you can if you want.”
“Are you sure they’ll let you go and not sell you into prostitution?” Leanna asked. “What if all of us are going to be sex slaves?”
“Don’t be paranoid,” Patricia said. “That’s the American news trying to scare us. We’re going to have wonderful lives. We can send money back home, marry an Americano, and have blond kids.”
“Do you think we can find Los Osos brothers?”
“They usually don’t make the trip,” Patricia said. “They facilitate. Hook up the transportation and provide protection.”
“Protection? I don’t get it. Who are they protecting?”
“The cargo. Us.” Patricia chuckled. “You don’t know anything, do you? Other gangs want our money, so they fight for every route north. You hook up with one group, you stick with them. They’ll bring you north, pass you on like a baton in a relay race, but you got to go with the same team. Otherwise, they fight and bam, bam, bam, you get caught in the crossfire.”
“Where are we going next?”
“They drop us off near the border. You better have your toll ready for the crossing. Those dudes are the bad ones, and you better pay.”
“What if I don’t have money?” Leanna asked.
Patricia narrowed her eyes and checked out Leanna. “You’re a beauty queen. All the right curves. They’ll get their money.”
“No, they won’t,” Leanna said. “I paid them to help me find my sister. Not to smuggle me across the border.”
“Hey, you two, shut up.” Blue Skull turned off the radio and glared at Leanna and Patricia. He poked Pimply. “Wake up. Time for a pitstop. You’re driving next.”
Scabby stopped the van, and after a minute, Blue Skull opened the back door. Pimply woke Maria, who stretched and yawned. She complained and moaned, not wanting to move, while Patricia eagerly hopped out.
Blue Skull wrestled with Maria, propping her up, and Pimply struggled to move his bulk from the van, huffing and puffing as if he were climbing a steep hill.
“Good morning, guys,” Leanna said. “I have to go to the bathroom, so if you could untie me…”
“Had too much to drink last night?” Scabby snickered, cutting the rags which tied Leanna’s hands and feet. “That’ll teach you not to shortchange us.”
“I said my husband had the rest of the money.” Leanna snarled. “Give me my phone so I can contact him.”
“You don’t give the orders here.” Scabby yanked her from the van. “We told you to come alone, but you didn’t listen.”
“What do you want me to do?” Leanna tried to jerk from his grasp. “If you don’t let me go, I can’t get the rest of the money to you.”
“We don’t need your money.” Scabby’s mouth widened into a leering grin. “We texted a picture of you. Looks like you’re worth more than you thought. Our American collector of fine women will pay more for a mother-daughter pair.”
“I’m not going to be a prostitute.” Leanna stomped her foot. “I’m an American citizen. You can’t sell me. I’ll go to the authorities. The American consulate.”
“Sister, you don’t have your passport, you’re nothing.” Scabby pressed his forehead against Leanna’s and rubbed noses with her. “We can keep you drugged for the rest of the trip if you don’t shut up.”
Leanna wanted to scream at the top of her lungs. But out here, in this smuggler’s waystation, no one would care. No one would aid her, and no one would call the police.
She was on her own.
