Debra Webb - Hostage Situation

She shook her head. “There is no time to talk of this. You must go.”

He got up slowly. Even though she knew his intentions, Juanita gasped when he took a step toward the door.

His chest tightened at the idea that anyone would consider him threatening. That was the part of this ugly mess that he hated the most. His own brother had used him to create fear…to kill.

“Juanita,” he said softly, “I have not killed anyone. If the missionaries—” his throated constricted “—are dead, then my brother or his men killed them. You surely know I would never do such a thing.”

Those five men, volunteers from the Basilica de Guadalupe on the north side of Mexico City, had been working with him in a small southern village devastated by last year’s floods. They had rebuilt many homes already, but there was much more to be done. Now those men were dead if what Juanita said was to be believed. What in God’s name did his brother hope to prove?

“I have been thinking that you did not,” Juanita admitted, her voice grave. “But I do not know the truth, señor . Flee this place. If your heart is pure you will flourish again.”

If only it were that easy. “I understand.” His brother could be charming and utterly persuasive when he chose. No one wanted to believe the depth of his depravity.

“You must hurry, mi hijo. ”

“Thank you, Juanita.”

Their gazes met briefly in the near darkness. Years had passed since she had last used that endearment. If they survived, he would ensure that her attempt to do the right thing was well compensated. Of the handful who knew of this despicable arrangement, no one else had dared to offer a hand in support. Those who had looked the other way would not be forgotten, either.

He followed Juanita from the prison. His breath sawed in and out of his lungs despite his attempt to stay calm and steady. If they were caught, Juanita would die. His own fate might very well be no better, though most would not dare attempt to use lethal force to stop him for fear of his brother’s reprisal. In any event, what did he have to lose? His fate had already been decided by his brother. A sharp pain pierced his chest at the thought of those men who had lost their lives already. Innocent men who had done nothing more than attempt to help those less fortunate.

His brother would pay this time.

Fury bolted through him. For the first time in his life, he felt certain he could do what needed to be done, putting aside that long-ago promise once and for all.

It was time for his brother’s reign of terror to end.

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