Leighton Mia - Hero

I moan as my name rings in my ears. I’m shivering on the cold forest floor, and everything throbs, from my head to my throat to my legs and bare feet. I pretend Calvin’s warm fingers massage my numb arms instead of my own frozen ones.

I start and open my eyes when I realize someone is calling my name. It’s a man’s voice, but one I don’t recognize. Dread cuts through any remnants of sleep. If Calvin catches me, I know I’ll finally see what he’s capable of. I tell myself over and over that it’s impossible for him to find me, that the forest is too big. I’m terrified it might be him, but what shocks me is that I’m more terrified it won’t be.

Footsteps shuffle so close that I see glimpses of white tennis shoes through the shrubs. I close my eyes and silently recite a prayer for protection. As if that’s ever done me any good. My eyelids turn white under someone’s flashlight.

“Is she alive?”

“She fucking better be. Pretty sure dead won’t get us shit.”

“Touch her.”

A shoe nudges my ribs, and my eyes squeeze shut.

“She’s alive,” he says.

I blink my eyes open to a man squatting over me. “Am I dreaming?” I ask.

He laughs. “Are you Cataline?”

“Who are you? How do you know my name?”

He nods up at the other man and looks back at me. “Get up. You’re coming with us.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you.” He grabs my arm and pulls. “Let go,” I yell.

“Come on, chiquita. Are you wearing a nightgown?” He shakes his head at the other man. “Beginning to see what the fuss is about.”

“What fuss?” I ask. I get to my feet because I have no other choice.

“Never mind. Apúrate. Walk.” As he speaks, his hand cups my backside and pushes me forward. He strides past me, glancing back. “I said walk.”

I peel my gloves off and toss them in the passenger’s seat. Norman waits for me at the door where the house meets the garage. “How was your evening?” he asks as he follows me downstairs to the basement.

“Fairly uneventful. Cataline?”

“She was in the library last I saw, but she’s not been feeling well. I believe she went to bed.”

“Oh?” I step into the closet to undress. “What’s the problem?”

“The flu, perhaps. Not sure. Maybe even a fever.”

“Aren’t you monitoring her?”

“I took her temperature earlier and it was normal, but she felt warm.”

I leave my armor in a heap on the floor and pull on drawstring pants and a long-sleeved t-shirt. “When did you last see her?”

“Late this afternoon. Around six.”

“I’m going to check on her, and then we can debrief. Meet me in the study.”

“Very well.”

I stop by the kitchen for the wrapped sandwich waiting for me on the counter. I grab half and head for the library. Cataline isn’t there, so I turn to leave when I notice her slippers near the chair she usually sits in. I shove the rest of the sandwich in my mouth and jog up the stairs to her bedroom. The door is unlocked, so I step in and switch on the lights. When I see her empty bed untouched, my blood runs icy in my veins.

I call out for her. I enlist all of my senses, but her scent is faint, and the mansion is quiet. Norman comes running when I yell for him as I race through her room to check the bathroom and try her window. “Cataline’s not in here or the library. Where the fuck is she?”

Norman cocks his head and looks around the bedroom. “Don’t worry. She has to be somewhere.”

I scan his face a second and say, “She’s not here.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m fucking sure,” I say. “Where is she? Pull up the security footage.” Norman’s face is frozen in shock until I yell, “Now.” As he sprints away, I push the palms of both hands into my forehead. Think, think, think. Unfamiliar panic suffuses my system.

I enter the basement just as Norman is pulling up the video. “Here.” He points at the screen. “When Michael took out the trash, she fled through the back door.”

“What time was that?”

He looks up at me. “Right after I saw her.”

“It’s almost two in the morning.”

“Yes, sir.”

I rub my hands over my face and kick a steel cabinet. “Goddamn it. Goddamn it. How did this happen?”

“Master Parish, please. We’ll find her. She can’t have gotten that far on foot.”

“And if someone else finds her first?”

“You’re afraid she’ll give you up?”

My brain won’t register his question.

“If it’s the Cartel you’re worried about, how would they know where to find her?” he asks, shaking his head. “No, you’ll get to her first.”

“They’re looking for anything to use against me. Which direction did she go?” I ask.

He purses his lips. “The forest.”

“Any idea why they want you?

“Who?” I ask.

“The Cartel.”

“The Cartel wants me?” I gulp through my chattering teeth but say, “I think you have the wrong person.”

“I sure as hell hope not. Doubt there are two girls running around the woods named Cataline. How’d you get out here?”

My brain works in overdrive, trying to connect the dots between Guy Fowler, Calvin, and the Riviera Cartel.

“Hey,” he says, “I asked you a question.”

I am oddly protective of my time at the mansion. Though part of me wants to spill every dark secret about the last few months, the thought of exposing Calvin and the truth to these guys keeps me quiet. “Leave me alone, asshole.”

He snorts and looks back at me. “Are your nipples that hard because you’re turned on?”

I instinctively cover my breasts. “No. It’s because I’m freezing. Maybe if you gave me your sweater, I’d believe you were trying to help me.”

“Then I’ll be cold.”

“Give it to her,” the other man says. “If she freezes to death . . .” He shrugs.

“Give her yours then.”

“No.”

I would shudder, but I’m already shaking, so I look at my swollen feet as they eat the forest floor. I’m trying to keep up, but the pain makes me limp. “I can’t walk anymore. Can we stop?”

“Sorry. The quicker we deliver you, the better.”

I frown. “I’m serious. I can’t walk another step.”

He sighs and stops because I do. Before I know what’s happening, he links an arm around my waist and hoists me to his side so I’m dangling by my stomach.

“What are you doing?” I ask.

“Said you couldn’t walk.”

He ignores my objections and continues on. I stop my squirming when I realize his body warmth is helping.

Any conversation the men have as we walk is in Spanish. My stomach is beginning to ache from the position I’m in when without warning, we come to an abrupt stop. I look up as best I can and see the lower half of a man’s body in front of us.

“Yeah?” someone asks. “What do you want?”

My heart stutters at Calvin’s voice. “You have something of mine.”

Images of what he’ll do to me for this flood my mind. “No,” I whisper.

“Put her down.”

I hit the ground hard and look up. Calvin is a black shadow, looming feet away in the moonlight. His gun is raised at the man who was holding me. There’s rage in every part of his body; it’s so extreme that it seems to radiate in waves of heat.

The man furthest from me gestures wildly. “Is this about the reward? ‘Cause we can make a deal for the girl—”

Calvin charges forward and shoves him to the ground. He puts the gun to the man’s head but looks at us when he asks, “Who sent you?”

“I-I don’t know, man.”

Calvin pulls the trigger. He charges for us next, and I’m screaming from the earsplitting gunshot but nothing is coming out. Even my vocal chords are frozen in fear. I cower, looking up at him from my hands and knees.

“See what you got yourself into?” Of all the anger he’s shown me, this rage is the hottest. “Do you have any idea what these guys want with you?”

My shoulders quake as sobs break from my chest. “I’m sorry,” I whisper, bowing my forehead to the dead leaves underneath me.

“After they rape and torture you for fun, they’ll dump your half-dead body at the landfill. Is that what you want? Answer me, goddamn it.”

“I’m sorry,” I say brokenly, unable to lift my head.

The ground seems to vibrate with his bellowing voice. “Why the fuck am I out in the middle of the night saving you when I could be home in bed? When you don’t even want me here? I should let them have you.”

I’m bawling now, mashing my forehead into the dirt as saliva dribbles down my chin, mixing with salty tears.

“Man, we can split the money, no problem.”

Calvin raises his gun, and the guy’s hands fly up.

“Or you can have it all. Take her.”

“Who sent you?” Calvin asks.

“The Cartel.”

“Who specifically? Carlos Riviera?”

“I don’t know, swear to God. Some guy approached a group of us in the East Side a few hours ago. Said the girl’s in the woods, and there’s ten grand for whoever brings her back alive. Alls I know is he had Riv ink. Said just find her, then he’ll come to us.”

Calvin crouches next to me. “Did he hurt you?”

“No,” I choke out.

“I didn’t,” the guy says.

“I’m going to kill you either way. I’m just trying to decide if I should let her ass-fuck you with a tree branch first.”

“No,” I wail. “I don’t care. Just let me go. Leave me here. I promise, I won’t report either of you.”

Calvin scowls. “You’d freeze to death before you got anywhere.”