I got out of the car and was hit with a breeze from the open garage door. The wind carried the scent of the ocean. We were by the coast?
“This way,” Alejandro directed. His accent was alluring.
No. Fuck. There was nothing alluring about him.
“I’m assuming you want to shower,” he said and opened the door into the house for me. I nodded. “I’ll take you upstairs.”
His eyes slid over me again. I didn’t feel violated. I almost liked knowing he was looking at me. I stepped into the house, following Alejandro and noticing his nice ass. He had a gun tucked into the back of his pants.
I debated taking it from him and using it. I might get past him, but what about the armed guards at the bottom of the driveway? If I was going to plan an escape, I needed to think about it a bit more.
The house was grand. We walked through a gallery hall. Expensive artwork with a hint of Spanish accents in rich colors hung on the walls.
A maid stood in the kitchen, washing dishes. She eyed me curiously as we walked past but knew better than to say anything to Alejandro. I bet he brought all sorts of women home with him…though I doubt any looked roughed up like I did.
He hadn’t married, I knew from the reports on him. But that was about all I knew. Unlike some of his other family members, he was quiet and kept to himself. It had made the job of busting the Calaveras very difficult. Everyone knew he was guilty but had no hard evidence.
Hah, now I knew too much. Actually…I could find out everything about his operation. It could be the biggest bust of my career. Well, if I ever got out of here, that was.
“There are towels in the bathroom,” Alejandro said as he went up the stairs. “I will arrange someone to bring you clothes.”
I nodded, still weirded-out by his politeness. What was he getting at? He was a bad person. There was no way he could be nice like this. I went into the guest bedroom. Whoa. Talk about luxury. A queen-sized bed was in the center of the far wall, topped with fluffy white pillows and blankets. A dark dresser was across from it, and an impressive painting of the ocean hung behind the bed.
I stepped in the room. Alejandro closed the door behind me. I heard him speaking in Spanish, and another male voice answered. Footfalls came down the hall, stopping in front of the door. I knew he wouldn’t leave me unguarded.
I crossed the room to the window. It was a straight drop to the driveway below. Dammit. Not now…I’d come up with a plan later.
I went into the large bathroom and turned on the shower. Everything was grand. The shower was huge, with glass doors and natural stones lining it.
I stripped out of my ruined dress and got in. The warm water felt great on my sore muscles. I picked up a bottle of shampoo and washed my hair, taking my time to pull out the tangles with my fingers. I slathered conditioner in my hair and picked up a bar of soap that smelled like lilacs.
I washed my body twice, whining when the soap got in my open cuts. There were red marks around my wrists, and the skin was rubbed raw in a few places.
Once I was clean, I got out of the shower. I wrapped a fluffy towel around myself and stepped onto the bathmat. Everything was so elegant, even in the bathroom. I couldn’t imagine having this much money.
I opened a drawer in the bathroom counter. There were new toothbrushes, lotions, perfumes, brushes, and combs. Everything was neatly laid out. The drawer below that had a hair dryer, curling iron, and a box of tampons.
I opened the cabinets. Along with more towels and washcloths, there was a light pink, satin robe. I grabbed it and put it on.
Alejandro must entertain a lot of women.
I towel dried my hair, then brushed and braided it. I cracked the bathroom door. Cool air rushed in, making me shiver. The bedroom door was still closed, and all was silent in the hall. I left the bathroom and sat on the bed. I shivered again but didn’t move.
I was so tired it was hard to form a rational thought. It took effort to think back. Even though I was exhausted and scared out of my fucking mind, I was ashamed I had messed up. I dreaded seeing my father again and being subjected to the lecture he would give me. I was fairly certain he would yell at me instead of hug me on my return.
Fuck. I didn’t want to go back.
The thought forced itself into my mind, startling me. It was true, though…which made me feel guilty. I didn’t want to go back to being the good girl. Back to doing what I was told, following the rules, doing what I should do and completely ignoring what I wanted to do.
I looked around the room. I didn’t want to stay here. But I knew, without a doubt, I didn’t want to go back to Indianapolis. I had no idea where I’d go … if I ever got out of here. Here, where I was a prisoner. A Calaveras prisoner at that.