Smiling, he pulled her close, then bent to murmur in her ear. “Now what?”
“I want to be gone from here. I convinced Emilo that, if they let me see to you, I could seduce information from you.”
One-Mile pretended to caress his way down her arm before he planted his hand on her hip. “I’m not telling you anything.”
“I did not expect you to. I-I have begun sleeping with one of my brother-in-law’s thugs, and I have been able to use his phone while he sleeps to sneak coded messages to my sister through a message board. I told her where we are and that Emilo is keeping you hostage. She said she would pass the information to the men who rescued her. Last night, she wrote back to say that a rescue mission is in place.”
His heart started revving. He wanted to grill her. Hell, he was even half tempted to shake her by the shoulders and demand to know if she was telling the truth. But she glanced at the camera in the corner, then brushed her lips up his chest. Yeah, they were watching. So he caressed his way down her ass and nuzzled her neck. “When?”
She sent him a come-hither smile and sidled closer. “Tonight. About an hour.”
That damn organ in his chest started chugging even harder. “Got a plan?”
There had to be a few dozen gunmen here, not to mention Emilo himself, who was fucking evil with the whip. Unless the Edgingtons and Muñoz were dropping in with some of Uncle Sam’s boys, they were going to be incredibly outnumbered.
Her flirtation suddenly looked far more like a grimace. “You should pretend to attack me. I will scream. Emilo’s men will come to my rescue…I think.”
“You don’t sound too sure.”
“I am worth nothing to them. But Emilo wants Valeria back.”
“Because he loves his wife?”
Laila scoffed. “No. He does not want her back as a lover. Why should he when he has so many whores willing to take his cock and his money? He flaunted them in my sister’s face while she lived with him. He is a pig.”
One-Mile didn’t disagree. In fact, Laila had phrased things much nicer than he was inclined to.
“But he suspected Valeria was pregnant when she escaped, and he refuses to let his child go.”
“What will he do if he manages to find her and the kid?”
“Punish her, make an example of her. He will kill her. She knows too much about his operations, and he fears she is already telling your government.”
Probably.
“The child… If she gave birth to a son, Emilo will groom him to take his place in the organization. Perhaps if he is ruthless enough, he will survive. If she gave birth to a daughter, she will be raised a princess, then married off to another drug pusher who can increase Emilo’s standing in the cartel. After that, she will have a miserable existence of sexual servitude and fear.”
Laila was a realist, if nothing else.
He fisted his hands in her hair and sent her what the watching goons would interpret as a leer. “And you think Emilo is keeping you alive and well so he can use you as leverage against your sister?”
“Yes.”
“You understand that if I attack you and they come to your rescue, we’ll be separated. They’ll beat the shit out of me, and I won’t be in any position to help you.”
She nodded, dragging her palms down his chest with what probably appeared to be a seductive scratch of her nails. “But quarters are cramped here, so they will take you outside to do it.”
Where the rescue party could actually reach him…provided Emilo and his men didn’t kill him first.
As plans went, it sucked. And it was a long shot. But any chance at freedom was better than no chance at all. “All right. What’s your idea?”
She gave him a blank stare. “I have not thought beyond that.”
One-Mile wasn’t surprised. She was barely more than a girl. She wasn’t a soldier, much less a tactician.
He reached for the bottle of shampoo and lathered his hair, while Laila grabbed the bar of soap and gave him a thorough scrub. “Any suggestions on how we kill the next forty-five minutes? Just a guess, but you don’t want to fuck any more than I do.”
“Emilo allowed one of his underlings to first rape me when I was fourteen. Sex is not something I do for enjoyment.”
Every time she spoke, he hated Montilla and his violent band of assholes even more. “If I can do anything to make sure you get out alive, I will.”
“Thank you.” Her lips trembled.
He nodded. “How about you play along?”
“Of course. I am willing to try anything.”
Yeah, he was, too—even getting the shit beat out of him again.
They lingered in the shower, pretending flirtation and sexual interest. Finally, he cut off the spray, dried them off with a towel, then carried Laila back to the cot, faking some sweet nothings in her ear.
Together, they fell into a naked heap on the cot with a forced laugh. He reached for the beer. She drank it while he held her on his lap, caressing her back and thighs.
“You’re feeling drunk, aren’t you?” he suggested in a low, almost unrecognizable mumble.
She pretended a giddy smile. “Maybe a little. Why does it matter? Are you thinking of taking advantage of me? I am far too small to fight off a big man like you.”
Did that turn some guys on? Disgusting. “I have something else in mind. You’re not going to fight me, are you?”
“Should I?” She batted her lashes. Fear gleamed in her eyes.
His gut cramped. They were both risking their lives. He didn’t have any choice except to keep playing his part and push until the bad guys barged in to shut him down.
One-Mile dragged Laila closer, then reached behind her to grab the needle off
