Turn after turn after turn, I struggle to control my nausea. When they shoved me into the van, the blindfold slipped—only a fraction—enough for me to see a tall, ornate iron fence with large gardenia bushes covering the bars five feet up. Multi-colored flagstones formed a beautiful driveway under my feet. A rich neighborhood. No wonder they gagged me. And did not care if anyone saw them.
I wish I could talk to Leo. Or at least see him. Not knowing what Sergio has planned for me is the worst kind of fear.
Pinzon sits so close, I can smell the detergent he uses. He felt me up again when he bound my wrists. At least my ankles are free. But I do not dare kick or struggle. A third man joined us in the back of the van. I cannot escape. All I can do is listen. And hope I learnsomethingthat might save Leo before the end.
* * *
The van jerks to a stop.Sergio pulls off the blindfold, and I blink hard until his face comes into focus. “Listen very carefully. Cortez is due to cast his vote in the next two hours. Daniel, Charles, and Gustavo will escort you to the ninth floor and stay with you until the Vice President is dead. Screaming will do you no good. You will not berescuedby anyone. If Mr. Basher’s friends attempt to breach the building, we will know, and you will die. Do exactly what you are told, and we will let you go by the end of the day. Do you understand?”
I nod—what else can I do?—and Sergio rips the duct tape from my lips. “Thathurts!”
“I am sorry, Domina.” He cups my cheek and drags his thumb gently over my mouth. “You are a beautiful woman. Smart. And brave. Perhaps one day, you will see that my father is the leader Panama needs.”
“Never.” The word escapes on a whisper, and I cringe as Sergio’s expression hardens. For a moment, I think he might hit me, but he merely drops his hand and smiles.
“Take her up,” he says, and opens the van’s back door. Sunlight blinds me, making my eyes water.
Pinzon grabs my arm and drags me to the edge. “Stand, bitch.”
I try, but my swollen ankle wobbles, and I pitch forward. Right into Pinzon’s chest. He grabs my ass, squeezing hard enough to leave bruises. I swallow my scream.
We’re parked in an alley, a large SUV behind us. I can hear cheering—from the church where Manuel will cast his vote? They would want me close, I think. Close enough for Leo to see me die if he refuses to do what they ask.
Pinzon and another man—light skin and distinctly American features—each take one of my arms. We move quickly to a plain door at the back of the building.
It smells like new construction inside. Fresh paint, sawdust, plastic. My ankle throbs with every step. Why did I insist on wearing heels yesterday? If I had not, perhaps…
Stop. Focus. You have to find a way out of here.
But with three men surrounding me, there is no hope of escape. A bright inspection sticker on the elevator door proclaims it safe—dated only three days ago. No wonder they picked this place. It’s empty.
The ride to the ninth floor takes seconds. Down a long hallway, apartment doors on both sides, until we come to Unit 928.
“Bring her to the window,” Gustavo says. He locks the apartment door from the inside and wedges a large piece of plywood under the knob. Unzipping a large duffel bag, he removes a rifle, unfolds the stock, and shoves a magazine into the gun.
The American—Charles—grips my arm hard enough to leave a bruise as he and Pinzon drag me across the room.
I look around, praying for my head to clear. It is still so hard to think, but the dizziness has mostly passed. The kitchen is unfinished, wiring exposed on one wall, and the tall window…
Oh, God. No.
It’s open, letting a stiff breeze into the room. There is no balcony. No railing. Just a plain, wooden sill that cannot be deeper than ten centimeters in front of a window large enough for even Leo to stand in.
“Up,” Pinzon snaps.
I jerk my head up to meet his hungry gaze. “It is too narrow. I will fall!”
“That’s the idea.” He and Charles lift me.
Kicking at them, I scream. “No! Stop! Please!”
“Fuck this,” Pinzon mutters when I catch him in the chest. I collapse onto the dusty tile, jarring my shoulder.
Charles pulls a zip tie from his pocket and binds my ankles. I am going to die. I know it now. They will shove me out the window and I will fall to my death without ever seeing Leo again.
There is no reason to fight. When they lift me, I let them. Charles positions me on the left side of the open window. My heels slip, and Pinzon wrenches my feet so they form a widev.
My legs shake, even after only a minute. All I can do is lean against the sill and pray for strength.
