The Collection (14 page)

Chapter 33

American women have a higher standard of living than most people. They are in good health, live in nice houses, and are treated like prizes. Citizens of Eastern Europe face starvation and the possibility of freezing to death every night. We should be more concerned with their health and safety.

—Comment from the
Global Reporter
message board

Besides a few bathroom breaks, Mia was never alone. Her makeover took hours. They waxed the hair from her body and spent over an hour painting her face. Her dirty, broken fingernails were covered with beautiful artificial nails and her short hair was transformed into long locks that hung down her back.

“How will I take these off?” Mia asked. She picked up a piece of her new hair.

“You don't,” the girl said. “They'll grow out eventually; when it starts to look bad we'll put new ones in.”

Mia tried to keep her eyes on the pair of scissors one of the women had brought. They were on the top of a box. Mia needed to swipe them. If she could hold them next to Dalmy's neck it might be enough to barter for Andrew and Carter's lives.

A new woman entered the room. She hung a garment bag and walked out. Mia tried to sneak her hand out and grab the scissors but at the last second the worker picked them up again and started cutting small pieces from Mia's hair.

“Why are you cutting my hair if you just put it on?”

“To make it look more natural,” she said. “You're cleaning up very nicely.”

One of the girls went over to the garment bag and pulled the zipper. Hanging was a long red dress. It was strapless, with a corset-style top that would pull Mia's waist tight. The skirt had a giant slit so her leg could pop out. One of the girls moved the dress and Mia saw a faint design in gold glitter shimmer across the fabric.

“They're going to fight over you in this tonight,” a girl said.

“Why would I want them to fight over me?” Mia asked.

“Relax,” a girl said. “You'll do great tonight, and you're so pretty.”

“Why do you do this?” Mia asked.

The girl shrugged.

“I have a roof over my head; they treat me nice,” she said. “It's not a bad way to live.”

“So you're all here by choice?” Mia asked.

“Aren't you?”

“You live in a free country; you can do anything you want,” Mia said. “I don't have that option.”

“I want to work here,” the girl said. Her tone became defensive. “Don't judge me.”

“Sorry,” Mia said. “I didn't mean to offend.”

“You Americans never do,” she said.

“So you've met other Americans? Dalmy made it sound like we're rare down here.”

“You're the first female,” she said. “There's a decent amount of males. They work below and come visit us on their nights off sometimes.”

Carter and Andrew were now in those ranks. Mia doubted her men would ever participate in any goings-on around here.

“What work are they doing down there?” Mia asked.

“They help out around the town,” she said. “With Joseph's business.”

“Dalmy mentioned soldiers,” Mia said. She hoped nobody reported that lie back to her warden.

“They act like they're soldiers, but the only war I've ever seen them fight is guarding deliveries.”

“Some of them think they're so important,” another girl chimed in. “Like working for Joseph is such a great honor. They call themselves militiamen and think they're going to lead Mexico in some rebellion. But I say, what rebellion? The people are happy down here.”

The girls all had a laugh at that. “Brainwashing”; she remembered Riley using the term. Whatever they were doing to the men down there to make them so compliant, it was wrong. Mia watched the girl walk away from her, scissors in hand. She would love to get her hands on those. Mia watched as the girl tucked the scissors away with her other supplies.

One of the girls held up a mirror so Mia could see herself. She was shocked at the reflection looking back. Mia looked perfect. Her makeup was dramatic, the long hair was held away from her face by a gold headband, and curls flowed down her back. She hadn't looked like this since the night she met Grant. The memory of her vanity came crashing back and Mia looked away just in time to see the case carrying the scissors leave the room.

Like a gift, Mia's attention was drawn toward a clatter. She turned her head to see a pair of stiletto heels on the floor. They were gold with red-jeweled straps. One of the girls picked them up.

“I didn't notice these earlier,” she said. “They're beautiful. You'll be stunning tonight.”

Mia smiled. She had what she needed to rescue her friends.

Chapter 34

Selling clothing your wife created is tantamount to having her work out of the home. A real man would never allow such a thing.

—
American Gazette

“Great job today,” the sergeant said.

Andrew kept his face blank, elated inside. He was proud of himself. His whole life he had known he'd make the perfect soldier, and now he was showing off his skills. Today Andrew had channeled his anger correctly. He was turning from a street fighter into a man with real proficiency. It was different from the work Andrew expected in the American armed forces, but here he had more of a purpose.

“Tomorrow we'll move on to some basic weapon training,” the sergeant said.

The elation only grew inside Andrew. He was more than ready to learn a new skill.

“Sir, may I speak, sir?” Carter asked.

Andrew didn't turn his head to look at him.

“Yes, Private,” the sergeant said.

“I do not feel that I have mastered hand-to-hand combat, sir,” Carter said. “I think it is important that I master one skill before moving on to the next, sir.”

The sergeant's lips pressed into a smile. Andrew was jealous. He wanted the sergeant's approval. He wanted to be the best soldier.

“Private Simpson,” the sergeant said. “How do you feel about this?”

“Sir,” Andrew said. “Private Rowe is correct. We should be perfect.”

The sergeant kept the smile but shook his head. He took a big breath before yelling, “Both of you, down on the ground. Push-ups, count out loud.”

Andrew reacted and hit the floor. He started counting out loud in perfect unison with Carter.

“When I give you an order you accept that order,” he said. “I am in charge. I set your training schedules. This isn't some workout facility. This is the Mexico Militia.”

Anger returned to Andrew. He was a leader, not a follower. This was his fault; if he'd only spoken his true feelings instead of agreeing with Carter, the sergeant would have been praising him, not dishing out punishment.

“You call yourself soldiers,” the sergeant said. “A real soldier listens to his superiors. He doesn't think he's better than them.”

The two men continued doing their push-ups. Andrew felt like he could go for hours. He started raising his voice when he yelled the numbers out.

“Since you two aren't ready yet, tomorrow we will start at day one. You will tour the facility and learn the basic commands all over again. Does that sound like fun?”

“Sir, yes, sir,” Andrew said.

“How about you, Private Rowe?”

“Sir, yes, sir,” Carter said.

“I didn't stay stop,” the sergeant said.

Andrew continued his push-ups with newfound determination. If they were going back to their first days of training he would make them count. He had to, for Mia. Serving to the utmost of his ability was the best way he could honor her memory.

Chapter 35

There is no single answer. Even if the Registry was shut down, that would leave generations of uneducated women to deal with, let alone their angry husbands.

—Comment from the
Global Reporter
message board

Mia paced back and forth across the floor. The red dress was a bit too long, but she knew if she put the heels on the length would be perfect. Instead she held the shoes in her hands. She listened to movement outside her room and sat on the bed, waiting for the door to open.

Dalmy walked in, with Ricky right behind her. Mia stood up and gave a twirl.

“Your mood has changed,” Dalmy said.

“I feel beautiful again,” Mia said.

“Everyone's downstairs waiting for your arrival,” Dalmy said. “Get your shoes on and I'll escort you down.”

“I'm not good at walking in heels,” Mia said. “Especially down stairs.”

“You'll get used to it,” Dalmy said. “The American I mentioned earlier, he was invited.”

“Why?” Mia said.

“If you don't know him, his presence won't be a problem,” Dalmy said.

Mia nodded her head. She couldn't worry about the man downstairs being Grant. Andrew and Carter were her top priority. Dalmy gave Mia a smirk. The young woman was arrogant. Mia thought if it were Grant waiting downstairs, Dalmy might be his equal.

“Come on,” she said. “You can put your shoes on outside.”

Dalmy turned and walked out of the room. Ricky stayed put, likely to follow them down the steps. Mia started walking; right when she was in front of Ricky she let one of the shoes drop. Ricky's attention diverted to the fallen shoe and with the split second Mia had she swung her other hand around and drove the heel deep into Ricky's side as hard as she could.

He made a loud grunt and grabbed at his injury. Mia reached across his chest and pulled the gun out of its holster. Just as she'd seen Andrew do before, she unlocked the switch and pulled the top back, arming the gun. Her hand was shaky, but she had a weapon.

Dalmy's eyes were wide. She turned to run down the stairs, but Mia reached out and grabbed her by the hair, yanking her closer. Mia wrapped her arm around Dalmy and held the gun to her head.

“You killed him,” Dalmy said.

Mia looked toward Ricky. His body was slumped on the floor. He let out another groan and forced himself up, his hand covering his side. Mia saw some blood on his shirt, but he was far from dead.

“You,” Mia said. “Walk or I'll shoot her.”

“Shoot her,” Ricky said. “I don't care.”

“Everyone knows that's a lie,” she said. “Go.”

Ricky locked eyes with Dalmy and Mia dug the gun harder into Dalmy's temple. The woman let out a small cry.

“Keep your hands up and walk,” Mia said.

“You're a dead girl,” Dalmy said through gritted teeth.

“Shut up,” Mia said. “Walk.”

The three traveled down the steps. They were met with a breeze from the night sky. Through the front windows Mia saw the men mingling. They were drinking glasses of champagne. Mia felt an anger burn inside her at the idea that these people could think of buying a girl's innocence as such a casual event. She couldn't let those thoughts take over though. This was about Carter and Andrew.

“You,” Mia said. “Go inside and bring Joseph out alone. If anyone else comes with him I'll kill her.”

Ricky nodded his head and walked into the house.

“The second my father gets out here your boyfriend is dead,” Dalmy said. “You stupid girl.”

“I wasn't lying,” Mia said. “Whoever the American is, I'm not with him.”

The front door opened and Joseph walked out of the house. His face was filled with worry. He saw Dalmy and started to run toward them. Mia moved the gun off her hostage and pointed it at Joseph. He slowed down.

“Are you all right?” Joseph asked.

“Daddy,” Dalmy said. She was crying now.

“You have something I want,” Mia said.

“You'll pay for this,” Joseph said.

“Two American boys,” Mia said. “Taken from the beach for your militia. I want them back.”

“I don't know who you're talking about,” Joseph said.

“I think you do,” Mia said.

She lowered the gun and held it at Dalmy's knee. The hostage let out a cry.

“I don't, I swear,” Joseph said. “We have lots of recruits, I don't get updated daily.”

“They're not recruits,” Mia said. “They're victims.”

Mia looked down at Dalmy's knee, threatening to pull the trigger again.

“Names,” Joseph said. “Give me their names.”

“Andrew and Carter,” Mia said. “Get them here now, with a car.”

Joseph reached into his pocket. Mia lifted the gun back to Dalmy's temple.

“I'm grabbing my phone,” Joseph said.

He pulled out a cell and hit a button. He spoke in Spanish. Mia needed this to work. She knew she wasn't capable of killing Dalmy. If these men called her bluff she didn't have what it took to follow through.

“They're on their way,” Joseph said. “Let her go.”

“I'll let her go when they get here,” Mia said.

She felt a sharp pain in her gut. Dalmy had slammed her elbow into Mia, knocking herself free. Mia pulled the trigger on the gun—she didn't mean to, but it happened. Dalmy let out a loud cry and for a moment Mia thought everything was over. But Dalmy was still standing, frozen by the sound of the discharge. Mia reacted fast, reaching out and grabbing Dalmy's hair, then pulling her back.

“The next shot won't be a warning,” Mia said.

Joseph looked like he was alternating between anger and fear. The men from inside started pouring out, having heard the gun go off. A few of them were drawing their own weapons.

“Don't,” Joseph said. “Everything's fine, go back in the house.”

Mia scanned the crowd, expecting to see Grant's face, but nobody looked familiar. Everyone froze.

“Get back in the house,” Joseph repeated. He turned his attention back toward Mia. “You're making a mistake,” he said. “Let her go and we'll forget this whole thing ever happened.”

“That you kidnapped my friends or that you tried to sell me?” Mia asked.

“You were more than willing earlier today,” Joseph said.

The sound of a car engine came in the distance. It was the same sound Mia had heard the day on the beach when Andrew and Carter were taken. The car came into view, but Mia was blinded by the headlights. The vehicle stopped next to Joseph. The engine shut off and the doors opened. There they were. Carter stayed seated in the backseat, but Andrew stepped out of the car. His face was blank.

“Andrew,” Mia said.

There he was, standing with his shoulders back. His lean body was accentuated in a tight black shirt. He stared at Mia; his warm brown eyes were filled with confusion and his mouth hung open. She watched as his breathing increased and a perfect smile crossed his face. Andrew moved toward her. She wanted to meet him, but that would mean dropping the gun.

“You're alive,” he said.

Even though Mia was holding Dalmy firmly against her, Andrew lifted his hand and touched Mia's shoulder. His hand felt so soft and sent tingles floating through Mia's body. She nodded at him and her smile matched his.

Their reunion was cut short when Dalmy tried to pull away again. Mia's attention refocused on Joseph.

“Andrew, get in the car,” Mia said.

Andrew started backing up. Mia glanced to her left and saw him climb in the backseat. Carter remained still, staring at whoever had driven him to this place.

“Get out of the vehicle and back away,” Mia said to the driver.

“Do what she says,” Joseph said.

The other men moved behind Joseph. Mia started dragging Dalmy to the car.

“You have what you want,” Joseph said. “Let my daughter go.”

“I'm taking her with me,” Mia said.

“That wasn't part of the deal,” Joseph said.

“There was no deal,” Mia said. “Don't follow me. Once I'm far enough out I'll leave her for you.”

Mia slid through the driver's-side door and over to the passenger seat, pulling Dalmy in behind her so that the woman was seated behind the wheel.

“Turn the car on and drive,” Mia said. “South.”

The engine turned over.

“Don't worry, baby,” Joseph said. “She'll pay for this.”

“Drive,” Mia said.

Dalmy's face was tear stained as she put her foot on the gas. Mia kept the gun firmly against her temple until the lights from the city couldn't be seen anymore. Then she backed off, still keeping the gun out. She turned to look at her friends. The wind was too loud for conversation, but one look at Andrew and tears started falling. It had worked; they were together again. Now all they needed was Riley and Mia's company would be complete.