No One to Trust Read online

  He was studying her expression. “You’re not going to start bristling, are you?”

  “No.”

  “I heard sometimes it helps to talk about it.”

  “Did you?”

  “I promise not to blackmail you.”

  “You couldn’t. It was important only to me.”

  “Not to Dominic?”

  “I never told him. It would have hurt him.”

  “Then that could be why you reacted like that. Maybe if you let it out … It won’t hurt me. You wouldn’t care if it did.” He shrugged. “Only a suggestion.”

  He could be right. She would try anything to avoid falling apart again when she went back into that gym. “You’d be bored.”

  “But it might save me some late nights waiting for you to wander downstairs for a midnight tryst with that dumb mat. You’ll be going back, won’t you?”

  Her hands clenched her cup. “I can’t let him win. I can’t let him make me afraid.”

  “Chavez?”

  She didn’t answer for a moment. “I didn’t think it would affect me like that. I thought I’d put it all behind me.”

  “Did you have an affair with Chavez?”

  “Affair?” Her lips twisted. “Chavez doesn’t know how to have a relationship with a woman. He chose his wife as a meek slave and childbearer. His mistress is the same, except I understand she’s very talented sexually.”

  “And you?”

  “He found me different. At first he was amused, and then he wasn’t amused at all.” She stopped. What the hell. Let it all out. She wasn’t ashamed. Why should she hide what had happened? “I was nineteen, and the situation with the rebel band I belonged to had changed. They had begun taking money from Chavez to finance the cause and in exchange they protected him. He was distributing drugs among the soldiers, gaining influence, using us as puppets. I hated it. My father had died the previous year and I was thinking of breaking with the group and leaving Colombia. But I waited too long. I was very good at my job and I was respected. Chavez heard about me and thought it would be interesting to take a woman to his little playground.”

  “Playground?”

  “Chavez likes to consider himself a conqueror. When he was in his teens, he was a soldier with a paramilitary group. He was a good soldier, brilliant with weapons and very strong. He liked it. He found the idea of being a killing machine very appealing. But the money wasn’t good enough and he left the army for the drug trade. He wanted the best of both worlds.” She moistened her lips. “Now he keeps himself fit at a gym he had built on his property in the hills. It’s a fine gym, with every exercise machine you could think of. But a machine isn’t a man. He needed combat to give him the rush he needed. So he invited or coerced or paid members of the different rebel groups to come and spar with him. He had no trouble besting most of the fighters he paid to come to the gym and give him a workout.”

  “What happened to the ones he couldn’t beat?”

  “He kept them there until he could defeat them. Most of them died. But, then, most of the others died too. Fighting to the death made him feel exhilarated. He said there was nothing like knowing you had that power over another human being.”

  “He took you to this gym?”

  “Took me? I was delivered to him by my own people. I was paid for with a tidy bundle of cocaine.”

  “Nice.”

  “I was there for three weeks.” She was beginning to shake again. Get it over quickly. “He found me a … challenge. Every night he’d come into the gym and fight me—unarmed combat. Karate, judo, street fighting … It didn’t matter how dirty. Whatever worked. The only rules were the length of the session. Two hours. If he got me down and pinned me, he would win. I wouldn’t let him do it. He couldn’t beat me. I couldn’t let him win.” She drew a deep breath. “But there was one way he felt all-powerful. After all, I was a woman. Every time I was still standing at the end of that two hours, he’d have me tied down and he’d rape me.”

  “Son of a bitch.”

  “That’s exactly what he is. He had to win.” She stopped. Don’t break down. Get it over with. She was near the end. “It was … hideous. The first few times he did that to me I was too stunned to think. Then I tried to pretend that I was giving up and he was getting the better of me. I guess it was too sudden. He knew I was faking it. He brought in a young boy—he wasn’t more than fourteen—and he fought him in front of me. He killed him. He told me that every time I tried to cheat him he would do the same thing.” She swallowed hard. “Oh, God, I knew I’d die if I couldn’t get out of there. That would be a final victory for him.” She paused. “But I let it go on and I tried to be patient. I took it slow, very slow. Our bouts gradually became closer and closer, and he was sure it was only a matter of time before he’d triumph. I even made sure I was compliant to every sexual whim. He began to take me for granted.”

  “Dangerous.”

  “Then one night I let him win. I had to do it. It was the only way to disarm him. I’ll never forget his face.… I knew the next time we fought, he wouldn’t be satisfied with taking me down. He’d want to kill me. The fun had gone out of it for him. I was right. Before he left he told me that the next session he’d introduce something new. Knives.” She drew a shaky breath. “That night I escaped and hid out in the hills. I kept away from our group, but I managed to find Dominic. He’d been told a lie about me and that I’d left the area, but he was still searching for me. He gave me money and told me he’d meet me in a month in Tomaco.”

  “But you found out you were pregnant?”

  “I wouldn’t admit it to myself until I was almost four months. I didn’t think God could be that cruel.”

  “You could have had an abortion.”

  “No, I couldn’t. That wasn’t an option I was able to accept.” She looked down into her cup. “But I was planning on giving him away after he was born. I hated those months. My swollen body and his child inside me … It was as if he’d finally found a way to beat me.”

  “And when Barry was born?”

  “I wouldn’t even look at him. Dominic took care of him after the birth while we were trying to find a home for him. Then one night, when Barry was about six weeks old, Dominic was down with the flu and I had to care for the baby.” She paused, remembering. “I sat there rocking him and he smiled at me. I know they’re not supposed to really smile at you at that age, but Barry did smile. It wasn’t like any other smile I’d ever seen. I think God wanted him to tell me something.”

  “That you should take care of him?”

  “No, that he was his own soul and deserved a chance.” She smiled tremulously. “It’s a beautiful soul, Galen. From the beginning he was full of love and joy and wonder. There’s nothing of that monster in Barry.”

  “I believe you.”

  “You don’t really know him. He’s … special.”

  “And you’re afraid Chavez would change him?”

  “No. Barry has a strong, loving nature, and I don’t believe it can be twisted. But what Chavez can’t conquer, he destroys. Barry’s only a little boy. I don’t know if he could survive him.” She drew a deep breath. “But he’s not going to have to try. Chavez isn’t going to get his hands on him.”

  “How did Chavez find out about Barry?”

  “Dominic kept contact with someone in the rebel group. He still believes a lost soul can be saved. We were betrayed.”

  “By whom?”

  She didn’t answer for a moment. “My brother, Luis. He works as an informant for Chavez now.”

  “So much for family feeling.”

  “Family feeling doesn’t stand a chance against a kilo of cocaine. Luis has been on drugs for years.”

  “Chavez again.”

  “Yes.”

  “It must have been tough for you.”

  She nodded. “I loved Luis. You can’t just turn feeling off and on. God knows I’ve tried.” She pushed her chair back. “I’m going to bed. Good night.”

&n
bsp; “Good night.” He rose to his feet and followed her out into the hall. “Try to have pleasant dreams.”

  “Sometimes you can’t control your dreams.”

  “You surprise me. I thought you could control everything these days.”

  She looked back over her shoulder. “Don’t try to make me feel better about the way I behaved tonight. I know you probably think I was weak.”

  “No, you were human. There’s nothing weak about you.” He met her gaze. “Everyone’s entitled to let their guard down occasionally.”

  “When do I get to see you do it? Never mind.” She started up the stairs, then she turned to face him as she reached the landing. “You’ve been kind to me tonight. I … thank you.”

  “Oh, for God’s sake. All I did was listen.”

  “No, you did more than that. I’ll remember.”

  “See that you do. You never can tell when I’ll decide to collect. I don’t suppose you’re going to be sensible and stay out of that gym from now on?”

  She shook her head. “I have to face it until it doesn’t hurt me any longer. That time with him is still dominating me, twisting my life, changing what I am. I didn’t realize that until tonight. I have to find a way of freeing myself.”

  “Then I guess I’ll have to think of a way of speeding up the process. All this lingering gloom depresses me.”

  “You have nothing to do with this.”

  “That’s what I keep telling myself.” He met and held her eyes. “It’s not working.”

  She went still. She couldn’t tear her gaze away.

  “Go to bed.” He turned away. “I have to go wash those cups. A man’s job is never done.”

  She gazed after him. What had happened in that last moment of contact? He hadn’t touched her, hadn’t said a word that wasn’t simply meant to comfort her. Yet that single glance was enough to cause a wave of heat to tingle through her. It shouldn’t have happened. Particularly not tonight. She had been mentally reliving that period of sexual horror and brutality, and she should have felt only revulsion, as she had with other men. But it had happened, which meant that the chemistry between them must be as strong as that bitter memory.

  Forget it. She was too weary and confused to think about sex and chemistry and Sean Galen. The realization that she was still crippled by that memory had come as too much of a shock. She had been lying to herself. She had thought in the years after she’d escaped from Chavez that she’d gradually healed herself. It was clear she still had a long way to go.

  She started up the stairs again.

  But she would get there. She couldn’t let Chavez win. During those last days when she had pretended to be defeated by him, she had been filled with self-doubt and bitterness. There had been times when she had wondered whether the pretense was reality.

  That could be fatal when she met Chavez again. He would take advantage of every doubt, every weakness. And if there was still a lingering poison in her system from that horror, he would pounce on that as well.

  There would be no weakness. She had discovered it in time, and she would make sure she exorcised any hint of it before she had to confront Chavez.

  Shit.

  Galen turned the water at the sink on full blast.

  That’s the way to do it, my man. Give her a hand up, listen to a story that had made him want to draw and quarter Chavez, and then let her know you want to jump her and do the same thing. He was lucky she hadn’t come back down those stairs and given him a karate chop.

  He deserved it.

  Hell, it had been bound to happen. The sexual tension was a constant undercurrent since the night they’d met, and he’d been fighting it tooth and nail. He didn’t even know if Elena had been aware it was there until tonight. He hadn’t wanted her to know. If he ignored it, it might go away, and that would be best for both of them. He preferred to keep his relations with women light and enjoyable, skimming on the surface, and there was nothing light about Elena. She was too intense, and she filled him with a mixture of emotions that ranged from protective pity to admiration to exasperation. Sometimes in the space of a few moments. He didn’t need this. He didn’t want it.

  He rinsed out the cups and put them on the drain.

  Okay. Solve the problem and get her out of here. If he did it fast enough, he might be able to keep from making a move on her they’d both regret.

  He sat down in a kitchen chair and dialed Manero. Although it was late, he picked up immediately.

  “What’s the word on Chavez?”

  “Still in Colombia. The Delgados left this morning, and I’ve been told the departure was very cordial.”

  “And Gomez?”

  “No sign of him.” He paused. “But there have been questions about you buzzing around the grapevine.”

  “What kind of questions?”

  “Oh, tender, caring little inquiries. How to get to you? Who to pay off to bring Chavez your head? Where you might be? You must have been stirring things up.”

  “I’ve been a little busy.” He thought for a moment. “Make sure you let Chavez find out my phone number. It will make him feel like he’s getting somewhere, and I want to encourage his initiative.”

  “Chavez doesn’t need encouragement.”

  “The tiger always needs to feel he’s the only predator. It makes him careless about any pits that might be dug for him. Call me if Chavez moves out.” He hung up and leaned back in his chair. Keep cool. The rage he had felt as he listened to Elena was still strong. It had been a long time since he’d wanted to kill a man this much, and hatred caused a man to make mistakes.

  Come on, Chavez. I’m waiting for you.

  Barry was laughing.

  Elena smiled as she started down the stairs. He and Dominic must have awakened before her this morning. He sounded like he was having a wonderful—

  The laughter was coming from the gym.

  She stopped in shock and then slowly continued down the steps and the hall.

  “Barry?”

  “Mama, come quick. I’m turning somersaults.”

  “I see you are.” She stood in the doorway. Barry and Galen were on the mat, and he was helping the little boy flip over. She held tight to the doorjamb. She wanted to snatch Barry up and carry him out of there. She wanted to kill Galen.

  “Watch me, Mama.”

  Galen met her gaze. “Yes, watch him, Mama. He won’t hurt himself. The mat will cushion him. That’s all it’s meant to do.” He turned back to Barry. “Okay, now we try a handspring.”

  “Are you watching, Mama?”

  She moistened her lips. “I’m watching, Barry.”

  She watched him for another ten minutes. She watched him do somersaults. She watched him do handsprings. She watched him collapse into giggles when Galen slyly raked his ribs and tickled him.

  Galen finally set him on his feet and gave his behind a swat. “Enough of this horseplay. We’ll put in another session tomorrow. Go wash your hands and get into the kitchen. We’ve got work to do.”

  “I know. Omelettes,” Barry said as he ran to Elena. His cheeks were scarlet and his dark eyes glittered with excitement. “Did you see me? I did the last handspring by myself.”

  “You were wonderful.” She kissed his forehead. “A regular acrobat.”

  “I like this place.” He ran down the hall toward the bathroom.

  “Let’s get it over with fast.” Galen got to his feet and reached for a hand towel draped on one of the machines. He dabbed at the perspiration on his forehead. “Barry will wonder where I am.”

  “You’re an interfering bastard.”

  “Yes. I told you I didn’t like clouds hovering over me.”

  “I wanted to throw up when I saw Barry on that mat.”

  “It was chancy.” He wiped the back of his neck. “I decided I had two choices if I didn’t want to see you tearing yourself apart. I could hang up the mat on the wall with a picture of Chavez pinned to it. Then we’d all take turns with darts—or maybe bowie kniv
es—until the mat was no more. It would have been like the effigies I heard the Allies had of Hitler and Tojo during the Second World War. That plan really appealed to me, but it might have been too violent with Barry around.” He tossed the towel back on the machine. “So I decided to replace a bad memory with a good one.”

  “It wasn’t good.”

  “But it wasn’t a nightmare. You liked seeing Barry happy.” He started for the door. “You may not have felt defeated by your bouts with Chavez, but I think the rape was different. That got to you. But you’re wrong. What happened on that mat wasn’t a defeat for you; it was really a final victory. Chavez didn’t mean to do it, but he gave you the grand prize. He gave you Barry.” He passed her and went down the hall. “I’ve promised Barry a workout every morning. I think he’d like you to be there. Can you do it?”

  She wanted to say no. She had been filled with dread and horror and the desire to snatch Barry and run away with him. Those minutes had seemed to last forever.

  But they hadn’t been impossible to endure. It might get better.

  Replace bad memories with good.

  “I can do it.”

  “The telephone is in the name of Desmond Sprull, phony address in Las Vegas,” Gomez said. “We can’t trace Galen by the number.”

  “And since you don’t know where he is, you can’t get close enough to put a trace on his calls,” Chavez said. “It’s a wonder you were even able to get that number.”

  “We’ll find him.” He paused. “He has a friend, John Logan. We could possibly discuss the matter with him.”

  “You mean force the information out of him? Logan has influence in high places. All we need is to have the government making noise. Our informant tells us the DEA is raising enough stink about the death of those agents at the vineyard.” Chavez paused. “But he might be in contact with Galen. Bug his office and his home. Let’s see what we can come up with.”

  “Logan has good security. We may not—”

  “I don’t want to hear about problems. I want to hear about answers.” He pressed the disconnect button.

  He looked down at the telephone number on the pad in front of him. Technology was a wonderful thing. The conquerors of old had their weapons and Chavez had his. He could dial this number and be talking to Galen in seconds. A phone call might be all it would take. Offer most men enough money and they would give Chavez anything he wanted. Galen didn’t have that reputation, but it was only a matter of finding which button to press.