Read Confessed (Vargas Cartel #3) for Free Online

nothing came up, which was probably a testament to how hungry and thirsty I was.
    I scrutinized the walls, the metal door, and the damp ceiling. Squinting, I could see the outline of Raul’s body. I needed to get out of here. I couldn’t wait for Ryker. It could take him weeks to find me and organize a rescue mission. Even then, he might not be successful, or I could be dead by the time he showed up. The events of the last couple of days demonstrated with blinding clarity that Juan Alvarez and his son wouldn’t hesitate to kill me. If I hadn’t told Enrique to shoot Raul, he would’ve shot both of us, and there’d be two rotting corpses on the floor right now instead of one.
    I popped open the metal band around my wrist. I hadn’t fully closed it earlier. I wiggled my fingers. My hand and arm still throbbed, but I could bend all of my fingers. Rolling onto my stomach, I army crawled through the pool of blood. It seeped through the front of my shirt and coated my knees, but I kept inching forward.
    I needed to search his body for a weapon or a phone. I ignored the acid swirling in my stomach. I didn’t want to touch his dead body, and I sure as hell didn’t enjoy crawling through his blood, but I’d run out of alternatives. Raul intended to help me. Now that he was dead, I had to help myself. I needed to be strong. I needed to be smart. I had to take risks because cowering like a mindless drone wouldn’t get me out of here.
    My chains wrenched me backward like a bungee cord, and I couldn’t move another inch. I stretched out my injured hand, trying to reach Raul. My fingers brushed across the hem of his pants. Tuning out the pain pulsing in my fingers, I curled my hands around his pants and yanked his leg. Pain shot up my arm, and I screamed, but I didn’t let go. I gritted my teeth together and pulled as hard as I could.
    When I’d moved his body a few inches, I wrapped one end of the dangling chain around his ankle and the other end around mine. Squeezing my eyes shut, I crab-walked backward, using my entire body to drag him closer to me. The chain bit into my skin with so much force I thought my ankle would split in half. Sweat beaded on my forehead. My muscles burned.
    Finally, my back brushed against the cement wall, and my shoulders sagged in relief. I did it. Now, I could search his body.
    I patted down one leg, then the other. I felt a lump around his ankle. I tugged up his pants and unstrapped a small pistol. Popping open the ammunition cylinder, I checked for bullets. It wasn’t loaded.
    Dammit.
    I slid the pistol back into the holster.
    Not wasting a second, I dove into the front pocket of his pants. I found a silver money clip filled with a quarter inch of folded bills. I leaned over his body and patted my hand on his other pocket. My fingers brushed against a rectangular object resembling a cell phone. My heartbeat rocketed inside my chest, echoing like a freight train in my head.
    I fumbled, unable to find my way into his pocket. I inhaled through my nose to steady my nerves, and the smell of rotting flesh wafted into my nostrils.
    “Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God,” I mumbled repeatedly as I shoved my hand into the opening and snagged the object from his pocket.
    A phone.
    A freaking phone.
    A thread of hope wrapped around my chest and a light laugh bubbled from my mouth. I swiped my finger across the screen. It only had twenty percent battery left so I had to move fast. With trembling fingers, I dialed Ryker’s cell phone number, silently praying he’d answer his phone.
    “Ryker Vargas,” he said after the first ring.
    “It’s Hattie,” I whispered, cupping my hand over the phone.
    “Hattie, where are you?” His voice was clipped with urgency.
    “I don’t know. In some basement I think.”
    “Whose phone is this?”
    “Raul’s. He said he wanted to help me.” I cleared my throat. “But he’s dead. They shot him right in front of me.”
    “They shot him and left his body.” It