Page 69 of Wicked Games
“Shall we get started?” I asked. “I could really use a nap.”
“Hmmm?” Carmen asked then seemed to jerk herself out of her trance. “Yes, let’s get started.
I couldn’t wait to tell Ryder about this development when I called him.
TWO DAYS AFTERLUCIEN LEFT, Draco summoned us to the conference room. “We’re going to have a conference call with Carmen, Lucky, and Q in just a bit. Things will be happening soon, and they want to bring the rest of us up to speed.”
I was sure Carmen would’ve preferred just to set up the mission, execute it, and get back home without having to hold my hand every time she turned around. I’d said as much to Lucien the previous night on the phone, but he said she understood each of us had a lot invested in the operation. It was true. Every person sitting around the table waiting for the conference to start had been at Banks’s mercy in one way or another.
I glanced to my right and saw Manuela shaking. I scooted my chair closer and wrapped my arm around her.
“I haven’t been this scared since I escaped from that horrible place,” she whispered so only I heard. We’d grown close since my arrival. She’d taught me to cook traditional Cuban dishes, and I helped her clean the kitchen after each meal. The more I grew to know Manuela, the more I respected her. “My heart said he was going to kill me, and I ran while I could. They expected me to use the road since I was on foot, so I escaped through the woods in the middle of the night. I’d packed food and wore extra layers, but it still wasn’t enough. I walked until I ached then I stopped to rest. All around me, I could hear things moving around in the dark and wolves howling in the distance. I thought I was walking away from the wolves, but their howls grew closer. I felt like they were stalking me and were waiting for the right moment to attack. I had no idea where I was going and was terrified I would circle right back to the grounds of the madman’s house. But by some miracle, I exited the woods eight miles away from the evil place. It had taken me three days, and I’d only packed enough food and water for a day and a half. I was exhausted and dehydrated when I knocked on the door of the first house I came to. I had no reason to believe they’d help me, but I had to try for my baby.”
“It almost sounds like the wolves were guiding you out of the woods,” I said in awe of her courage.
“I think so too,” Manuela said. “I don’t even remember the door opening. I’d knocked and collapsed before the owners could answer. I woke up in the hospital a few days later. My body had gone into shock, and the doctors said it was a miracle I hadn’t lost my baby.”
“Carmen was a fighter from the very beginning,” I said, squeezing her hand.
“She sure was,” Manuela said, a faraway look washing over her features. “The police came by, but I refused to answer who I was or where I came from. I couldn’t risk Banks knowing I was alive. Of course, I wouldn’t know his real name for a few years when I happened to see his photo in a newspaper above an article about his antiquities business. Anyway, I wasn’t much of a threat to him when I escaped, but it was doubtful he would’ve agreed.
“The hospital assigned a social worker to me since it was pretty obvious I was a victim of abuse. I went to live with Carmen Caraway, who ran a home for battered women and children. There were a few pregnant ladies who lived there, and it was the first time I hadn’t felt scared since I was abducted on my way home from school.
“I told Miss Carmen about my family in Cuba, and she permitted me to call them. My mama and I cried when we heard each other’s voice for the first time. She thought I was dead, and trust me, cariño, there were many days I wish I had died. My family was poor, and they had no money to send for me. After my Carmen was born, I found work as a maid for a wonderful family. They treated me well, doted on my daughter, and allowed me to call home to Cuba once a week. I had hoped someday my mama and papa would know Carmen from more than the pictures I mailed to them, but they were killed when Hurricane Georges hit land in 1998.”
“Manuela, I don’t know what to say. You’ve experienced so much grief in your life, yet you still smile. It isn’t just for show either; I see real joy in your eyes. How do you do it?”
“How could I not? I have my Carmen, and she’s the most wonderful gift I’ve ever received. I know people don’t understand how I can say such a thing because of how she came to be, but it wasn’t her fault. Carmen feared she would end up like her father after she found out about him, but I knew better. There isn’t a trace of the bastard in her.”
“She’s all you,” I told Manuela.
“Look around you, cariño. I have so much to be grateful for, so I want more than anything for our loves to finish this mission and return to us so we can move forward and leave the past where it belongs—behind us.”
I looked around the room as Manuela instructed and my eyes landed on Dev and Percy. Dev had his casted leg propped on the table, and Percy had produced a crochet hook from someplace and was sticking it inside the cast to scratch Dev’s leg.
“Yessss,” Dev said, eyes rolling back in pleasure. “Baby, that feels so damn good. Yes, right there. A little harder. A little deeper. To the left. Yes. Oh yes! A little to the right now. Sweet Jesus!”
Beside me, Manuela giggled with delight. I was so glad Percy and Dev’s shenanigans had once more saved the day.
“Faster, baby. Faster. Dig deeper. So good. You know how to work that thing,” Dev said, head thrown back in abandon as Percy began scratching his leg in earnest. Then Dev began banging the table. “Yes! Yes! Yes!”
“Um, guys, do you need us to call back?” Carmen’s voice asked through the speakers in the teleconference station.
“Sounds to me like he’s almost finished,” Lucien said. My heart melted to a puddle of goo just from hearing his voice. “Carmen, do you know Dev’s nickname?”
“Nope,” Carmen said.
“We call him the two-minute man.”
“Shut up, you wanker,” Dev said. “That’s how long it takes me to crack a safe not how long I can maintain an erection. Carmen, your mother was kind enough to let me borrow a crochet hook to—”
“Whoa,” said another voice I hadn’t heard before. I assumed it belonged to Quinton. “I don’t think any of us want to know where Percy is sticking the crochet hook.”
“Hey, Q,” Percy said. “How’s it going?”
“Great, but it sounds like things are much more exciting on your end.”
“Get your mind out of the gutter, arsehole. I’m just using it to scratch Deverish’s leg beneath his cast. Then I’ll give it back to Manuela.”