Cartel by Lili St Germain

Author:Lili St Germain [St Germain, Lili]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Romance
ISBN: 9781460750049
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers
Published: 2015-01-25T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Mariana

They were going to sell me.

No matter how many times I turned those words around in my mind, rearranged them, dissected them and put them back together, my fate remained the same.

They were going to sell me. I’d grown up in Colombia, kidnapping capital of South America for a brief period of time in the nineties, until the Mexicans caught on that ransom kidnappings were an easy way to make money.

Dornan hadn’t returned to my room for a while. It was hard to keep track of hours and days when there was no natural light. An hour could be a minute, could be a day. But then, it didn’t matter, did it? Every minute that passed was just a minute closer to whatever fresh hell they’d decided to throw me into.

I spent so long on my own without interruption that when the door finally did burst open, I felt an odd sense of relief. Being stuck in limbo was excruciating.

My heart sank as I saw the man in the doorway wasn’t who I’d expected.

‘Oh. It’s you,’ I said.

Murphy strolled into the room, his hands in his pants pockets. The suit he wore this time was dark grey and impeccably pressed. It didn’t look cheap.

‘Who were you expecting, Annie?’

My skin crawled as he got closer. My father called me Annie.

Nobody else got to call me by that name.

‘Hey, asshole,’ I greeted him. ‘Come to take me on another vacation?’

He snickered. ‘You wish. Follow me.’

When I didn’t move to follow him, he turned on the ball of his black leather loafer and grinned, reaching into the breast pocket of his suit. I knew what he was going to show me before he’d even removed the small crumpled square.

He had me over a goddamn barrel, and he knew it.

‘Stop,’ I said sharply, putting up a hand. ‘I’ll come.’

He laughed. ‘Usually they tell me to keep going when they come.’

‘You’re so immature,’ I muttered, shaking my head as I followed him down the hallway and to something worse than I had ever imagined.

At the other end of the hallway, past the bathroom I was allowed to stop off and use, stood a large, blank room. It looked like it had once been a garage, but now it was an open space, sunlight streaming in from thin rectangular windows that flanked one side. The ceiling seemed very high, in stark contrast to the small room I’d been in. It reminded me of the way the sun had streamed in through the stained-glass windows of our church, back when Papa had still insisted on us attending.

‘Over here,’ Murphy said, pointing into the middle of the room, and that was the moment my heart froze in my throat.

What the —

I backed away, towards the door. ‘I’m not getting on there,’ I said, looking at the bed with stainless-steel stirrups. A trolley with scalpels, and other sharp instruments that promised blood and pain, stood beside it. Holy Jesus, what was he going to do to me? Were

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