Stealing Beauty (Stolen 1)

I lifted the bag and eased my arms through the straps. It was heavier than I’d anticipated, but my exercise regimen had made me strong enough to bear the weight.

Moving a little faster, I tiptoed my way toward the open air, making my way past the snoring Americans. At the last second, I decided to grab one more provision. Earlier, I’d noticed the redhead setting a flashlight beside his bed. I grabbed it up and continued my progress. It was still dark outside, and I didn’t want to trip over the cobblestones that lined the streets.

The seconds it took me to cross the dormitory stretched into what felt like agonizingly long minutes. When the heavy night air hit my skin, I dared to pause long enough to slip on my sneakers. I quickened my pace, but I forced myself to walk without using the flashlight until I was several yards away from the hostel.

My heart had hardly dared to beat in my chest while I was making my escape from the dorm, but now, it hammered against my ribcage. Adrenaline flooded my body, urging my flight. I broke into a jog and turned on the flashlight. Even with my path somewhat illuminated, I didn’t sprint. If I tripped and injured myself, I wouldn’t be able to escape.

I’d made a point to memorize the directions back to the harbor. It wasn’t a long journey, and with my faster pace, the docks came into sight in a matter of minutes. The jungle was a black enigma to my right, encroaching toward the sea. I kept my focus on my goal: a small fishing boat. I could make out the silhouette of a man moving about on the deck.

A bright light flashed a few yards ahead of me. For a split second, I thought it was another traveler’s flashlight. Then, the gunshot rang out, and one of the cobblestones exploded only inches from my feet. Small stone shards cut into my ankle, and I screamed at the sudden shock of violence.

“Don’t move!” a deep voice shouted from the direction of the jungle.

My heart jumped into my throat, and I froze in place. The light that shone in my direction was mounted on the scope of a rifle. It seared my eyes, disorienting me.

Shadows moved toward me, the light expanding in my vision as the men drew closer. I held up my hands, as though I could somehow ward them off. My pulse thrummed through my veins, pounding in my ears.

The light reached me, blinding me as the barrel of the gun pressed against my chest. I stopped breathing, my scream trapped in my throat.

Strong hands closed around my upper arms, men grabbing me from both sides. I couldn’t make them out through the blinding light, but I could smell their sweat.

“We heard gringos were coming into the Darién,” the masculine voice said. “You’re no gringo.”

“She’s pretty,” the man to my right said. “We can still make some money off her, even if we can’t ransom her to an American family.”

A shudder threatened to wrack my body, but I remained frozen, all too aware that the slightest movement might cause the man to pull the trigger and blow a hole through my chest.

I felt someone rummaging through the pack at my back, heard a rumbling chuckle.

“She’s carrying thousands of dollars. And an American passport.” I heard another gun behind me, the distinctive sound of a bullet being loaded into a chamber. “Nice Glock, too.”

The rifle barrel pressed harder into my chest. “Who the fuck are you?”

I didn’t have an answer for them. How did I explain my way out of this? I could tell them that I was the wife of Hugo Sánchez, and I’d been abducted. I could tell them I was trying to escape my kidnappers and get back to my husband. It was highly likely that these men had connections to the Rodríguez cartel.

But they’d send me right back to Hugo. I’d rather die.

“We’re too exposed here,” the man to my left said. “We can interrogate her back at the base.”

The man behind me zipped up the pack and pulled it off my shoulders. They had my money and my documents. If I’d known I was also carrying a gun, I might have been a little better prepared, but I doubted I would have stood a chance against these paramilitary fighters. I’d never held a gun, much less fired one.

The rifle finally left my chest, but I still barely drew breath. One wrong move, and these men could decide to shoot me and take the cash I was carrying. I’d prefer death to returning to Hugo, but I wasn’t ready to give up on life yet.

The men grabbed my arms again and began to walk, dragging me toward the jungle. I stumbled, but I had no chance of resisting their strength.