Ruthless Savior - Julia Sykes Page 0,17
the bus had been the quickest way for me to get out of town. I couldn’t afford to waste time blundering around in an attempt to find a more covert service to help get me to the US border. Not only would I have made myself an obvious target for people who might take advantage of a woman wandering aimlessly around on her own, but staying in Mexico City meant I was within easy reach of Raúl.
I closed my eyes against a fresh wash of pain that had nothing to do with my aching head wound. He’s alive, I assured myself, recalling his ferocious snarl when he’d promised to kill Arturo slowly.
I shuddered and forced my sandpaper eyelids to open in order to clear away the terrifying image. Worry for Raúl and anxiety about my own survival had kept me awake for the entire journey, but it was becoming difficult to stay alert.
I blinked hard and pulled out the energy bar I’d purchased at the same time as my bus ticket. The wrapping was crumpled and warm from long hours in my pocket, and I only had about a quarter of the bar left. I needed to make it last, so I could save as much of my remaining funds as possible. Money was my only hope to guarantee my safety in Juárez. If I wanted to survive, I’d have to pay for my life.
I took two bites of the energy bar before tucking the little that remained back into my pocket. I stared out the window, watching the buildings grow taller as the bus wound its way into the border city. My heart beat faster with each mile, and the end of my journey suddenly seemed to be happening far too soon. The bus had served as a safe little bubble during the day-long ride to Juárez. As soon as I stepped out into yet another unfamiliar city, I’d be facing the unknown again.
I kneaded my forehead with the heel of my palm in a useless attempt to alleviate the ballooning pressure in my skull. I was so tired of fighting for everything: my independence, my freedom, my life.
My struggle for the first two had endangered the people around me as well as incurring devastating personal consequences. I wouldn’t be here now—desperately seeking asylum in the US as my last hope—if I hadn’t been recklessly independent. If I’d just behaved like a respectable girl and obeyed my parents, I wouldn’t have been driven from my home. If I hadn’t fought for my freedom from Stefano Duarte’s cartel, Carmen wouldn’t have been kidnapped by her enemies.
And Raúl’s life never would’ve been at risk because of me.
I blew out a long sigh, and for a single, weary moment, all the fight drained out of me. My shoulders slumped, and the sickening pressure in my head expanded.
The bus rolled to a stop, and a soft hiss signaled that the doors were opening. We’d arrived Juárez. The US border was mere miles away. The money in my pocket would buy my passage into the States. I’d come too far and endured too much to give up now.
I shoved my worry over Carmen and Raúl’s fates to the back of my mind, and I swallowed my self-loathing. Showing signs of weakness wasn’t an option. I’d paid for this entire, agonizing journey with my blood and tears. I wouldn’t allow it to end here, not when I was finally so close to a safe haven.
Raúl would’ve kept me safe. He did keep me safe. He protected me from Daniel.
I tipped my head back and sucked in a deep, fortifying breath. It was too late to go back now. I couldn’t undo my betrayal.
Raúl was holding me hostage. Even if he did protect me, he was my captor.
He’s a drug lord, a dangerous man. I had a history of falling for dangerous men, allowing myself to be swept up in the thrill of dark passion. My indulgence had cost me everything, and my loved ones had paid a heavy price, too.
Gehovany never would’ve allowed me to leave him. He would’ve hurt my family even more if they tried to keep me from him. I’d had no choice but to flee from my home, setting out on this dangerous journey that’d almost broken me.
My dark affinity for dangerous men would be my ruin. I wouldn’t make that mistake again, no matter how tempting it was to think of Raúl as my savior rather than my criminal captor.
That