Her nerves twisted. The closer she got to the cells, the more anxious she became. Suddenly, releasing the prisoner seemed like a bad idea. Who was he? Why did her brother keep him locked up? What if she let him out and he attacked her?
This was her one opportunity, and if she messed up, she could kiss her freedom goodbye.
Sure, José might decide to lock her up, too. But most likely, her brother would marry her off immediately and be rid of her. Then she’d have a whole new nightmare to face as the wife of one of the dreaded Cardenas brothers.
She’d rather take her chances with the gruff-looking prisoner with the deep, growly voice. In her mind, he was still the lesser of several evils.
The moment she saw the dark cells, her heart sped up like a racehorse. Pausing, she hovered in the shadows, chewing her lower lip, yet again plagued with doubt.
“I wasn’t sure you’d come.” His voice sounded even raspier than she remembered. “But I’m hella glad you did.”
With slow steps, Essie moved closer to the cell. The man stepped into view, and his piercing blue eyes looked black. Like a flash of obsidian in the dark. A shiver tore through her, and she swallowed hard. If she were smart, she’d turn around and go straight back to her bedroom. She’d accept her fate and—
And what? Be miserable and scared and spend the rest of her life married to an evil man she didn’t love.
“You seem hesitant.”
“I— I don’t trust you,” she admitted.
His dark head tilted. “I won’t hurt you. Trust me, Peaches, I want outta this hellhole, and I’m not about to screw this escape up.”
“I need your word.” She stepped directly in front of him, searching his grizzled face for any sign of deception. “Promise me you won’t hurt me, and you will take me to Manzanillo.”
“I promise,” he stated. Low, throaty. No hesitation. And somehow, that mattered.
Her heart skipped a beat and her pulse skittered. Still, she hesitated.
“What’s the hold up? You need me to sign a contract? Do we have to wait around for a notary?” His mouth edged up. “Cause I’m gonna be honest, Peaches, time is a tickin’, and if you want me to help you, you’re gonna have to open this door.”
Her gaze swung to the key hanging on a wall hook. Shutting down every rational thought in her head that screamed she wasabout to make a huge mistake, she grabbed the key, shoved it into the lock and turned. The door swung open with a loud creak, and the man stepped out.
He was so much taller than she’d realized. Now that he stood directly in front of her, she had to tilt her head back to fully take him in. Wide shoulders and a broad chest, but too thin. Long limbs made him lanky. His time in the cell had clearly taken a toll on his natural physique, but he still possessed muscles. They weren’t bulky, more svelte and sinewy.
She imagined someone who’d been locked away for over a month would probably smell ripe, but surprisingly, he didn’t. Her attention shifted to the raggedy washcloth neatly folded over the edge of the tiny sink, and a wave of pity moved through her.
He was probably hungry, and she considered offering him some of the provisions she packed, but before she could get another word out, he beat her to it.
“Let’s go.” His voice held a solid command, and she knew their best bet at getting out unnoticed was to move now and eat later.
They started walking through the tunnel at a clipped pace. When it split, he started to go one way, but she grabbed his arm. “No, that way.” She pointed in the opposite direction. “It’ll lead straight to the surface.”
Instead of questioning her like every other man in her life, he gave a sharp nod and followed her. Feeling empowered, she led him along the path she took when she escaped to the outside world at night. Eventually, the tunnel ended and they stepped into the cool night air.
Moonlight filtered through the lush tree canopy above, giving them enough light to traverse through the foliage without using a flashlight. They didn’t want to draw any unwanted attention. On a few occasions during her nighttime wanderings, shehad spotted guards, but they mostly kept close to the bunker entrance where they smoked and chatted.
Her companion took a moment to look up at the sky, studying the placement of the stars and moon. Probably—hopefully—so he could determine which way to the coast. “You don’t have a cell phone, do you?” he asked.
“No.” Her brother had taken it away months ago, but she kept that information to herself.
He grunted then headed toward what she hoped was Manzanillo. Without a word, they trekked through dense underbrush, the only sound their boots trudging forward and an occasional skitter or call of a nocturnal creature. She wasn’t sure how far they’d traveled, but it felt like forever when the man finally stopped and turned to face her. The pale glow of moonlight splashed across his face and his royal blue eyes locked on hers. Serious. Narrowed.
“I think we’re safe. For the time being, anyway.”
“Do you think they’ll follow us?” She hung her hope on her brother not discovering she was missing until morning, or even later tomorrow afternoon. And by then, if they kept walking, they’d be long gone.
“That all depends,” he drawled.
“On what?”
