Sold To The Boss: A Narcos Romance

Chapter 4

Isabella didn't know how long she'd been standing up on the darkened stage, but it couldn't have been more than ten minutes before her captor grabbed her and yanked her down so forcefully that one of her high heels came off.

"Let's go punta, you stubborn but you make me a lot of money tonight."

She felt like she'd just swallowed sand, her throat was so dry that it was painful to breathe. She had already been sold? How could those words be real? Her body started to rack with dry heaves.

"Fuck chica, I can't deliver you like this," her captor pulled a needle from his coat pocket and jabbed it into her forearm before she could pull alway. She felt fresh, hot tears spring at the corners of her eyes, the pain of the needle and the grim reality of her current situation giving way to the heady feeling of the heroin in her veins.

"Follow me, chica. Down this hallway. Don't be difficult." He placed his hand on the small of her back and she flinched away automatically before being shoved forward. At the end of the hallway, there were several men in dark suits with even darker masked expressions on their faces. They all blurred together, making it hard for Isabella to know exactly how many men there really were. Could've been three or six or nine. Her vision was starting to get hazy from the drugs and she blinked rapidly as if she could simply will the effects of the drug away.

"Rafael, meet the lovely Isabella." A tall, broad shouldered man stood with his arms crossed in front of his chest, staring at Isabella like he was inspecting a luxury car he'd just purchased. Isabella noticed that his jaw stiffened with anger and she felt her body tighten and curl into itself at the fear of what was coming next.

"You give her heroin?" His question came out more as an accusatory statement than a genuine inquiry, his voice deathly low. Isabella felt his eyes like sharpened daggers, zeroing in on her nasty captor who was still holding her bicep in a vice grip.

"Señor, I had to. She's a difficult one but I'm sure you can train her real nice."

"Let go of her." The little man holding Isabella's arm instantly released her bicep and she took several, staggered steps away from him toward the wall.

Rafael let Isabella stumble a bit and gather her footing. He did not reach for her and she had yet to look him in the eye. He noticed that she had only one high heel shoe on.

Rafael whistled for two of his men. "Martín, get her in the car and take her to the house. Have Lolita clean her up." He kept his distance, knowing he had to keep this relationship strictly business in order for his plan to work out. He'd have to earn her trust quickly. Eventually he'd make sure this woman was back home and safe, wherever home was for her, but right now she would have a job to complete in order to earn that freedom. Everything comes at a price in this world. Especially freedom.

"No! Don't touch me!" Isabella's voice was shrill as Rafael's men grabbed her from both sides, her legs kicking out furiously causing her to lose her balance. Rafael watched in both frustration and admiration at her fighting spirit but wouldn't allow himself to move towards her. Once the heroin wore off and she was cleaned up, then he'd talk to her. For now, he had to keep his distance.

---

The drive seemed to go on forever. Isabella's head felt like it was swimming from the heroin and she had to hold back vomit every time the dark suburban lurched or drove over a bumpy road. When the car finally stopped she felt her heart rate spike again at the unknown, the fighting sense within her rising up and making her feel feral and crazy. When she was dragged out of the backseat of the SUV, a strong sweaty palm covered her mouth and another strong arm secured her arms behind her back, leaving only her legs free. She kicked aimlessly, causing nothing more than a small dust storm and a string of Spanish curse words from her new captors. Despite hating them already, they didn't smell nearly as badly or as rotten as her previous captor and they hadn't stuck a needle in her arm. Yet.

"Lolita, here's Rafael's new girl. She's real expensive so clean her up good. And watch out, she's a fiery one." Isabella heard a dark chuckle from behind her, and more faintly she heard the sound of shot glasses as if some sort of party was going on. But her eyelids were too heavy from the drugs and her whole body began to sag as the edges of her vision faded to black.

When Isabella woke up, she felt cool, soft sheets around her body and noticed that her hair was damp. It smelled like vanilla. She sat up unsteadily on her elbows, the unfamiliarity of the bedroom causing her heart to race again. The room was barren but elegant, with one door leading into a small bathroom and a long, high window along one wall that only let in light but provided no view. She could be anywhere. Literally anywhere in Mexico with no way to let her poor aunt and family know that she was still alive. No way to let someone, anyone, know where she was so that they could rescue her. Isabella started to let her mind wander back to the last afternoon in her aunt's living room, before she'd been taken, when the door knob to the bedroom started to turn. Isabella clutched the sheet to her chest, glancing frantically around for anything that she could use as a weapon.

"Señorita, no te preocupes," an older woman entered the room slowly, a very calm look on her face like she dealt with kidnapped women every day. "Tienes hambre?" The woman set down a tray of food on the small desk in the room, and even though Isabella didn't make any movement to leave the false safety of the bed, she felt her mouth start to water. But she couldn't speak. Her throat was too constricted and her lungs felt like they were bound by a steel cage. Isabella needed help, answers, and a rescue mission. But she also needed food and water. And right now, being here in this bed with a tray of warm, delicious-smelling food in front of her? Even, kidnapped and sold to god knows who, it was heaven compared to the past few days she'd been through.

"I will just leave this here, okay Señiorita? You take your time. If you want more, just leave the tray outside the door." Isabella nodded, or at least she was pretty sure she did, but she barely had any control over her own trembling body. When the older woman left the room, Isabella counted to ten, as if that would be the best method to ensure this wasn't some sort of trap, and then sprang out of bed toward the tray of food. Warm, flavorful rice and black beans along with fresh bread and a glass of water. Isabella scarfed the food down and pressed her ear to the door before cautiously placing the empty tray outside as the woman had instructed. She walked into the small ensuite bathroom and rinsed her face and hands, bracing her wet palms on the marble counter surface and looking at her reflection in the mirror. She looked tired, her carmel colored eyes rimmed in red with purple circles underneath. She still wasn't sure how she'd gotten clean, but she assumed the older woman had at least washed her hair while she'd been high on heroin. Isabella started to scratch at her forearms, the terrible crawling bug feeling starting to take over as the drugs wore off.

Isabella crawled back into the bed, her stomach still hungry but the softness of the sheets lulling her exhausted body to sleep, her fear succumbing to fatigue.