Defending Raven (Mountain Mercenaries #7)(8)
“I’ll come too,” Gabriella declared.
“Me and Bonita will see if we can find a corner to beg from,” Carmen said.
“And I’ll clean up in here,” Maria finished.
“I know a guy who will give me money,” Teresa declared.
Mags shook her head immediately and walked over to Teresa. She put her hands on her shoulders and captured her gaze. She was small, like Zara had been, and one of the younger women in their group. “No. Selling your body is not the way. Del Rio may have forced us to do that, but that’s not who we are any longer.”
“What are we supposed to do, then, Mags?” Teresa asked angrily. “Every time we manage to get anything to make our lives easier, Ruben and his friends come and take it all. We can’t get jobs, and we can’t continue to scavenge from the trash for the rest of our lives. Sometimes I think things were easier with del Rio, that we should’ve tried harder to stay.”
Mags shook her head and tightened her hold on Teresa’s shoulders. But she also looked around at the others while she spoke. “One more day,” she said, quietly but firmly. “That’s it. We take one day at a time; we just have to hold on one more day. Things will get better. Yes, we’ll have some setbacks, but living here with nothing but the clothes on our backs is better than being used by del Rio. Better than him selling our bodies and giving us nothing in return.”
“But we had food,” Bonita said softly. “And a roof over our heads that didn’t leak when it rained.”
“And we didn’t have to worry every day about Ruben and his friends stealing from us,” Maria added.
“So you’d rather deal with del Rio’s customers, who took what they liked no matter what you wanted? The ones who beat the crap out of us just because it made them feel strong and powerful? The men who didn’t bother to ask our names before making us strip and get on our hands and knees? We didn’t even have names. We were merely holes for them to stick their dicks into. Faceless and nameless. I’d rather live here, hungry, getting wet when it rains, than let any man touch me again,” Mags said fiercely.
“We know you’re going back there three days a week!” Teresa retorted. “Are you going to try to tell us you aren’t getting food and special treatment while you’re there?”
Mags’s chest instantly tightened. She didn’t want to talk about that. About the deal she’d made with the devil himself. But Teresa and the others had a right to question her. She’d do the same if she was in their shoes. “I am not going to del Rio’s compound. He’s not selling my body anymore. I eat nothing. I get no special treatment. When I do have to see him, he treats me like the dirt on the bottom of his shoes,” she assured them.
“And yet you go wherever it is you’re going, week after week. Why?” Bonita asked.
Mags wanted to tell them. Wanted to explain why she walked five miles and back to a house del Rio owned, three days a week. But she couldn’t. It wouldn’t be just her life on the line if del Rio ever found out. He’d told her in no uncertain terms that if she told anyone where she was going and what she was doing, she’d regret it. And she knew without a doubt he would keep his word, and that he had ways of hurting her that were a thousand times worse than merely allowing men to use her however they wished. She wouldn’t risk it. Not for anyone.
“I would do anything for you guys,” Mags told her only friends honestly. “And I’d tell you if I could. But I can’t. You know del Rio has eyes and ears everywhere. I can’t risk it. But I swear on my honor that I’m not getting special treatment. No food. If I was, I’d bring it back here and give it to you before eating it myself.”
She didn’t think the others were going to let it go, but finally, Carmen, who’d been a captive of del Rio’s for as long as Mags had, nodded. “If you say you aren’t holding back on us, then I believe you. Just . . . be careful. Del Rio is not to be trusted. You know this. He is a snake, and making any kind of deal with him is dangerous.”
“I know,” Mags whispered. And she did. She knew all too well . . . but it was too late.
“Okay, then let us get going,” Carmen said. “Teresa, stay here with Maria. It’ll be safer. The rest of us will find something for us to have for dinner. Promise.”
“Be safe,” Maria and Teresa said at the same time.
Everyone nodded, and one by one they slipped out of the hut and headed for their destinations. Mags left before Gabriella and waited in the alley with the bicycle for her to arrive. Within ten minutes, she snuck around the corner and, without a word of protest, climbed into the secret compartment of the trailer and got settled.
Mags shut the hinged lid and made sure the trash on top was strategically placed, so it looked like she was merely pulling a load of worthless plastic and wood. “Here we go,” she told Gabriella.
It wasn’t easy pulling the trailer with more than a hundred pounds inside, and Mags felt every year of her age, but there wasn’t anyone else around to do what needed to be done.
“One day at a time,” she muttered. Then, clenching her teeth and ignoring the pain in her thighs, she headed for the nearest dump.
Chapter Three
Dave was jumpy as hell. And impatient. He wanted to get the hell out of the airport and head to the barrio as soon as possible. But they’d had to go through customs, then rent a couple minivans, which took forever. Then they’d gotten stuck in a traffic jam, which irritated the hell out of all of them. Then, because someone hadn’t filled one of the minivans with gas, they’d almost broken down on the highway.