{"loaderData":{"4":{"story":{"id":"0afbe1d1-e1ac-48ca-b68c-27c0d299f91b","seriesId":null,"seriesName":null,"currentUserId":"00000000-0000-0000-0000-000000000000","added":"2025-04-20T18:14:11.964Z","title":"Latino Heat","slug":"latino-heat","shortId":"OFRJIYvH","authorNote":"This is a commissioned story. It contains some racially charged language that may offend some.\n\nI release all my stories for free; however, if you enjoy what you read and would like to support me, please consider subscribing to my website, where I release my chapters up to two months before publicly releasing them. https://www.bhfun.com","disclaimer":"Although the story itself is written entirely by me, the book cover art is AI generated.","type":"Novella","paidUrl":null,"synopsis":"Sarah Bennett, a privileged Southern college student, faces dire consequences after a racially charged altercation at a frat party, leading to a coercive arrangement that threatens her freedom and forces her into an unfamiliar world.","partCount":3,"parts":[{"partId":"9854ac29-774f-4214-b161-4dad3583b98a","title":"The Trap","summary":" Chapter One - The Trap Sarah Bennett lounged\nin her chair, her blond hair spilling over h","wordCount":6054,"readTime":30,"number":1,"state":"Published"},{"partId":"0d11c3a9-ea79-4070-abca-24101c961f2a","title":"The Downfall","summary":" Chapter Two - The Downfall The next morning,\nSarah jolted awake in the spare room of Hect","wordCount":8396,"readTime":42,"number":2,"state":"Published"},{"partId":"460ce5fb-e0b6-4c98-aac0-e61eaf7f7db1","title":"Kings and Queens","summary":" Chapter Three - Kings and Queens Sarah stirred on the\nclinic bed, her body heavy with a d","wordCount":8215,"readTime":41,"number":3,"state":"Published"}],"currentPart":1,"contentTitle":"The Trap","content":"

$\"\"$

Chapter One - The Trap

Sarah Bennett lounged\nin her chair, her blond hair spilling over her shoulders like a silken wave,\nshimmering under the dining room chandelier’s warm glow. Her blouse clung to her frame, top button\nundone, a teasing sliver of creamy cleavage peeking out from beneath the soft\nmaterial.

The Thanksgiving table\nstretched before her, turkey roasted to a glossy bronze, gravy simmering in a\nsilver boat, cornbread crumbling under her delicate fingers. This was an\nAll-American Southern dinner spread to be proud of.

She twirled a strand\nof blond hair around her pink-tipped nail, her lips, full and rosy, parted in a\nlazy smirk. The 20-year-old college student’s jeans hugged her thighs, and silver heels dangled from\nher crossed legs. Sarah knew how to dress and play the part of Southern Belle\nto a tee.

Her mother, Ellen\nBennett, glided from the kitchen, a stereotypical floral dress swayed over her\nhips, blond curls framing a face that still had plenty of charm. She sat a\npecan pie on the table and smiled, soft and sweet, as she watched the local\nnews flash across the TV screen. “Turn that up, honey,” she murmured to her youngest\ndaughter, Emily.

The 18-year-old Emily\nperked up. Her blond bob bounced as she snatched the remote from the table, her\npetite frame humming with youthful energy. She cranked the volume, her crop top\nclinging to her A-cup breasts and petite frame as she settled back.

The anchor’s voice droned on\nabout a border bust in Arizona, three Hispanic men in cuffs, “suspected cartel\nmembers due to deported,” scrolled across the bottom. Emily’s tan legs kicked\nunder the table, her glossy lips curling into a playful grin.

The household\npatriarch, James Bennett, leaned forward, his bourbon glass cradled in his\nbroad hand. “Good\nriddance,” he spat, puffing his chest out; his Texas flag pin caught the\nchandelier’s light on his starched plaid shirt. “Those damn wetbacks don’t\nbelong here!” He dug into his share of the pie. “Good to see we’re finally\ntaking care of the problem.”

James was a Texas\nState Senator and a conservative man representing the 25th District. He chaired\nthe Senate Committee on Border Security. He was seen as a rising star within\nthe party due to his hardline anti-immigration views and his unforgiving methods\nof ridding the country of ‘uninvited\nvisitors.’ He successfully campaigned for the Border states to work closer\ntogether and pool resources in a so-called ‘Freedom Fund,’ which led to the\nlatest drug bust in Arizona.

Sarah tilted her head,\nhair brushing her shoulders, and her smirk sharpened as she glanced at the\nscreen. “Yeah, Daddy. They can’t\neven talk right,” she commented, her Southern drawl gliding like silk. She\nsipped her drink. “I got a bunch of them back at college. We know they only got\nin because of diversity quotas.” Her sour comment elicited a chuckle from her\nfather.

Emily giggled, wanting\nin on some of the action, her tan legs swinging as she placed some warm pecan\npie in her mouth. “I\ncan’t stand their food either; who wants to eat tacos every day?” Her insult\nwas far less punchy, but James smiled anyway. Emily wasn’t the brightest and\nhad no street smarts. Still, she had always tried to emulate her more popular\nand savvy older sister.

Sarah & Emily’s mother smoothed her\ndress, her well-practiced smile unwavering as she slid another slide of pie\nover to James. “Your father is serving his Country proudly,” she told her\ndaughters. “This is about keeping Texas Texan.” Her voice was a gentle hum\nlaced with subtle venom.

James grinned and\nnodded, his broad shoulders settling back as he savored the pie. “That’s my girls,” he\nsaid in admiration. “Pure Texan stock.” His voice was a steady rumble, pride\npulsing through every word. His blue eyes flicked to the TV, the news fading to\na weather report as the conversation was swiftly forgotten, and the family\nchanged the topic.

Sarah stretched, her\nblouse lifting to flash a sliver of toned midriff as she leaned back. So,\nDaddy, you think the Longhorns are gonna take it this year?” she asked, her drawl\nthick and teasing, shifting the mood with a playful tilt of her head.

Ellen chuckled softly,\npouring herself a glass of sweet tea. “Oh, honey, you know your father bets on them every\nseason. It’s cost us a fortune,” she teased, her voice warm and light, a gentle\nnudge at James’ football obsession and slight gambling habit.

James laughed, a deep\nrumble rolling from his chest as he poured another glass of whiskey. “I got a good feeling\nabout this year. Sark’s got them playing proper football.”

Emily giggled again,\nlicking pie from her glossy lips. She had no interest in football, although her\nathletic abilities have earned her soccer and cheerleading scholarships.\nHowever, there was one university the enthusiastic blond hadn’t heard back from\nyet. “I’m just hoping I get to cheer at one of their games next year,” she\nsaid., her voice bright and eager.

James leaned back in\nhis chair, looking at his three favorite people enjoying an All-American\nThanksgiving dinner. “That's\nthe dream, baby,” he grinned at his youngest daughter, “That’s the dream.”

❖

Sarah strutted across the University of\nTexas quad, her blond hair swaying and shimmering in the late November sun. Her\npink tank top hugged her frame, tight and stylish, with a teasing hint of\ncleavage flashing with each step. Her auror screamed ‘Queen\nBee,’ and she knew it.

The blond’s best friend, Lacey,\nkept pace. Her wavy red hair bounced, and her green eyes glinted as she twirled\na strand. Her cheer skirt flared, showing off her silky-toned legs, and the\ncheer top clung to her pronounced chest. She popped her gum, smirking.

“That new TA’s a total waste of space,” Lacey said, her\ntwang cutting through the courtyard chatter. “Bet he can’t even read the damn\nsyllabus.” Her red lips curled into a grin.

Sarah smirked back,\nfull lips parting to show her brilliant white teeth. “You shouldn’t have to\ngo through that, Lacey,” she sympathized. “I’ll talk to Daddy. Maybe he can\ndeport his ass.” The pair chuckled like mean girls as they continued to walk\nacross the courtyard.

Travis Connor rolled\nup, his UT hoodie stretched over his broad shoulders. He cracked open his third\nenergy drink of the morning. He had partied too hard last night and had a full\nday of classes and football practice to get through.

As he gulped down his\ndrink, his eyes casually lingered on Sarah’s tank top. He had tried to date her a few times when\nthey started college, but she made her disinterest very clear.

“Party tonight at Kappa Sig,” he said, his drawl thick\nwith a flirty edge. “Y’all better show. It’s gonna be wild.”

Sarah sighed. Despite\nher Queen Bee reputation, she wasn’t one for parties. However, she knew she needed to show\nup at the biggest events to save face; it felt more like an obligation than a\nfun invitation. “Wouldn’t miss it,” she flashed a forced smile.

The fourth member of\ntheir gang, Jenna Paye, strolled up beside them. “You talking about the party tonight?” She asked. “The\nlast one was a blast.” She grinned. Jenna was a model of contradictions. Her\nmousy demeanor, quiet attitude, and art major didn’t scream ‘party animal.’\nStill, his judgmental tone amused Sarah, and she got pretty wild after a few\ncocktails.

Lacey tilted her head,\nher gum popping louder. “They\nbetter have some decent drinks this time,” she said, her Southern accent sharp\nwith a teasing lilt. “Last party’s beer tasted like warm piss. I’m not choking\nthat down again.”

Jenna chuckled. “Come on, Lacey,” she\nsaid. “The drinks weren’t that bad.” She grinned.

Travis decided to\ncontribute. “Besides,\nfrom what I heard,” she said. “You were choking on much worse than that with\nMark Rawlins in the bathroom at the end of the night. Heard it got messy.”

Lacey cringed at the\nsound of the Texas QB’s\nname. “Hey, stop that,” she lightly punched him in the arm. “That’s just a\nrumor, nothing happened, Okay?” Although the shiftiness in her eyes told the\ngroup otherwise.

Sarah laughed, her\nvoice a quick, bright snap that lightened the mood. “Ohh, Lacey. You do\nget a little out of control at these things,” she teased.

Travis grinned,\ntossing his empty energy drink can towards a nearby trash can but failing\nmiserably. “Mark’s\na lucky bastard if it’s true,” he drawled. He knew it was true; Mark had told\nthe entire team as much. “I’ve been trying to get those sweet lips between my\nlegs for years.” He chuckled.

Lacey punched his arm\nagain. “Ewww, gross,” she\ndismissed his comment.

“Besides,” Sarah interrupted. “You’ve been trying to\nsleep with half the women on campus since you got here, so it’s no surprise.”\nShe teased, biting her lower lips and softly tugging at her top to show a\nlittle more cleavage. She enjoyed taunting her friend.

“Only the good-looking half,” Travis fired back,\nprompting another chuckle from the group.

Jenna smirked, a\ncouple of books tucked under her arm. “Party starts at nine, guys,” she said softly. “Everyone’s\ngonna be there. Don’t miss it.”

Sarah tilted her head\nand flashed a grin that didn’t\nquite reach her eyes. She really didn’t enjoy these juvenile gatherings. “We’ll\nroll in late,” she drawled. “It’s better to make them wait for the main event.”\nHer friends laughed at her self-confidence. However, she wasn’t wrong, they\nthought. She was the most popular girl in the school, and she didn’t even need\nto join the cheer team to make it happen.

Lacey popped her gum,\nnodding. “Gives me time to fix\nmy hair,” she said. “Gotta look our best, after all.”

“I bet,” Travis quipped. “I heard Mark will be showing up\nagain. Ready for round two?”

“Stop it!” The redhead said, pushing the jock, her voice\nless playful this time as Travis continued to tease. “You’re such an ass\nsometimes.” The bulky running back held his hands up in surrender.

Sarah smirked. “Don’t worry, Lace,”\nshe told her friend. “I’ll keep you out of trouble this time.” She giggled. “You’re\na magnet for controversy.”

The group laughed\nbefore going their separate ways to their various classes. Tonight’s party was indeed\ngoing to be wild, although not in the way Sarah would have wanted.

❖

Sarah sauntered into the Kappa Sig frat\nhouse at 11:15 PM, her blond hair cascading freely down her back. Her sequined\ndress hugged every curve of her body and sparkled under the dim living room\nlights. The fabric clung to her hips as she moved with a confident sway that\nkept plenty of eyes on her. She held a cocktail in her hand after downing a\ntequila shot with Lacey after they entered. Tonight’s\nparty pulsed around her with bass thumping through the walls. It wasn’t her\nscene, but the Southern Belle of UT couldn’t be holed up in her dorm when the\nbiggest party of the semester was in full force.

Lacey danced beside\nher best friend, her red hair flowing loose as she twirled to the beat. Her\nblack miniskirt flared high and showcased her smooth legs. The low-cut top\nrevealed a generous swell of her perky chest and shifted with every move. She\nclutched a fresh cocktail with one hand, and her red lips parted as she laughed\nloud enough to turn heads.

“Watch out, Sarah,” Lacey grinned. “These parties always\nget insane.” Her southern twang carried a carefree edge as she sipped her\ndrink. She spun closer to Sarah, and her hair brushed her friend’s arm with a\nplayful nudge.

Sarah tilted her head\nwith a laugh that rang clear and bright over the music. “Every party you go to\ngets pretty wild,” she teased. The blond took another sip of her drink and\nscanned the room. She had already rejected two worthless frat boys earlier, but\nthe offers seemed to have died down.

Travis weaved his way\nthrough the crowd with his broad frame, shoving past a group of swaying bodies,\nmany congratulating him on his performance last Saturday. He wore his UT\nletterman’s jacket, a weird\nrequirement for parties like this, with a skin-tight white t-shirt underneath\nand a pair of blue skinny jeans. He gripped a beer with one hand and raised it\nhigh with a loud whoop as he approached the girls.

“Y’all made it,” he said. His voice was laced with\nflirtation as he flashed a grin at Sarah. He took a swig of his beer, and his\nhazel eyes lingered on the blond’s shimmering dress.

Sarah smirked back at\nhim with her full lips slightly parted. “Someone’s gotta keep you in line, Trav,” she replied\nwith playful scorn as she tossed her hair. She turned away as she surveyed the\nrest of the room.

Jenna stumbled through\nthe crowd with her previous neat, dark hair, untidily swinging around as she\ndanced. Her oversized sweater was long gone, tossed aside in some corner, with\nher tight white t-shirt drenched in alcohol, the damp material showing off the\ndark bra underneath. Contacts had replaced the glasses she wore daily as she\ndanced with a couple of freshman frat boys, downing half a bottle of vodka\nstraight. As soon as that bitch drank one beer, she turned into a wildcat,\nSarah thought.

Lacey giggled as she\nfinished her cocktail, handing the empty cup to a passerby. “Gimme another!” she\nshouted.

The young man softly\nlicked his lips as he admired the cute redhead swaying before him. “O- of course,” he\nreplied, running off to fill her cup.

Sarah smirked, her\nglossy lips curving as she watched Lacey charm the guy. “You’re already half\ngone, Lace,” she said, trying to calm her fiery redhead friend down.

Travis laughed with a\ndeep rumble as he leaned closer to Sarah. “Ohh, trust me, doll. She’s just getting started,” he\ngrinned. His voice carried a flirtatious tone that told Sarah that she should\nlighten up a bit. Sarah just scoffed.

Jenna spun closer to\nthe groups as she danced to the music. “Fuck yea!” She slurred, loud, and wild. She stumbled\ninto the back of a fratboy talking to his friends. To apologize, she grabbed\nthe boy by the shoulders and pressed her sultry lips against his. His eyes\nwidened in surprise as his friends cheered them on.

Sarah rolled her eyes\nwith a faint smirk, tugging at her lips. “Jenna’s a real mess tonight,” she said, turning to her\nrunning-back friend. “You better make sure she gets home safe.” She commanded\nhim.

The jock held his\nhands up. “Scouts honor,” he\nreplied. “I’ll keep an eye on her.” He winked at the blond before calling out\nto Jenna, heading her way, “Hey, Jen. Where’s my kiss?”

Sarah rolled her eyes\nbefore turning around to scale the room. Her smile turned to a grimace when she\nspotted a group she hadn’t\nseen before.

A small group of young\nHispanic students held bottled beers in their hands, speaking in Spanish. There\nwere two older men with them, clearly not students. It made her angry; her\nfather was doing what he could to rid the country of their type, and they waltzed\nin here like they owned the place.

The supposed\nringleader of the group, Hector Morales, stepped out with his black cap tilted\nlow over his rugged, unattractive face. His lean, musclebound frame moved with\na quiet menace and his faded tattoos peaked out from his unbuttoned flannel.

He gripped a beer with\none hand, his dark eyes fixed on Sarah with a predator’s intent. He noticed\nher scowling at him.

Hector’s sidekick, Luis\nAlvarez, stood beside him, and he whispered into his boss’s ear. “Esa gringa es\nla hija de Bennett,” Luis informed Hector. His voice rasped with a thick accent\nas he nodded toward Sarah. {“That gringa’s Bennett’s daughter.”}

Hector took a slow sip\nof his beer, curling his lips into a faint, dangerous grin.

Sarah stood and stared\nat the man, her glossy lips occasionally brushing the ring of her red solo cup\nas she glared at him from across the room. She didn’t move toward him;\nher father taught her better than to approach a group of dangerous thugs.

Hector had no such\nqualms. He tilted his head with a devious smirk and stepped forward,\napproaching the well-dressed blond. “Hey, gringa bitch,” he called out in English. His voice\nsliced through her soul with a taunting edge. The intimidating man moved\ncloser, and his boots thudded on the sticky frat party floor.

Sarah squared her\nshoulders with her blue eyes flashing as the cocktail helped with a little\npiece of liquid courage. “Fuck\noff, spic,” she spat out. She generally kept her racist comments between her\nfamily and friends. Still, the side of his arrogant ass and the alcohol in her\nbody egged her on. The crowd around them hushed, and a few phones lifted to\ncatch the brewing clash.

He laughed with a cold\nedge as he stepped close. “Some\nof mi familia was taken a few weeks ago,” he said, his accent thickening with\nevery word. “Three cousins gone ‘cause of your Daddy and his politician\nbuddies.” His dark eyes drilled into hers, and his grin twisted with menacing\nintent.

Sarah stood her\nground. “Good,” she spat, her\nvoice laced with fury. She took a step back, not enjoying the distance closing\nbetween them. “I hope you all get sent back!”

Hector chuckled; she\nhad a fiery temper, and he liked that. “Little girls should learn to respect their elders,\nprincesa,” he teased, his grin showing off his crooked teeth.

Sarah couldn’t stand the\ncondescension, especially from a street rat like him. She reached for the\nclosest object she could find, a green glass bottle on a nearby table, and\nhurled it in his direction.

The bottle clipped the\nlarge man’s ear and smashed\nagainst the wall behind him; a gasp from the crowd brought the blond back to\nreality; her outburst had been caught on several cameras.

Hector ran his finger\nalong the top of his eye, and a trail of blood lay on the tip. “Big mistake, amora,”\nhe said. His voice stayed low and heavy as he wiped the blood away, licking it\noff with a quick flick of his tongue. His eyes promised retribution.

Sarah clenched her jaw\nwith her blue eyes blazing. “Call\nme that again, and I’ll aim better next time,” she snarled. The crowd’s gasps\nturned to murmurs, and a few more phones lifted to catch the escalating clash.

Lacey stumbled forward\nwith her red hair swinging as she grabbed Sarah’s arm. “Holy fuck, Sarah,” she slurred. Her voice mixed\nwith shock and disbelief. “You need to calm down. Everyone’s watching.” She\ntold her friend.

Sarah yanked her arm\nfree with her blond hair whipping as she glared at Lacey. “I don’t give a shit\nwho’s watching!” She snapped, adrenaline flowing through her veins. Her voice\ntrembled with fury and liquor as she turned back to the Hispanic group.

Travis shoved through\nthe camera-waving crowd with his broad frame. “Goddamn, girl,” he chuckled. “You’re wild as hell\ntonight!” He grinned at Sarah with a spark of awe and admiration in his hazel\neyes.

Hector stepped closer,\nTravis standing between the two. “You got a lotta fire, princesa,” he said, looking the\nblond up and down before grinning at the jock.

Sarah clenched her\nfists with her eyes boring holes into the cock man. “Fuck you and your\nfire,” she spat. “Get the hell out of here!” Her hands were shaking with rage.

The Latina chuckled\nwith a cold edge, wiping the blood from his ear again. “You’re about to be in\nmore trouble than you can handle, little girl,” he said. He stepped closer and\nleaned forward. “Big mistake messin’ with me, gringa. You’ll see how deep this\nshit gets.”

Sarah’s face stayed stoic,\nbut she shuddered inside. If this man’s cousins were deported, he was involved\nin gang life in some way. She didn’t realize yet how true that was.

❖

Sarah trudged across campus toward Dean\nCallahan’s office, her eyes bloodshot from her restless night.\nHer blouse clung to her curves, and her jeans hugged her legs. Tequila still\nlingered on her breath despite washing her mouth out three times this morning.

The hangover pounded\nher skull after last night’s\nchaos at Kappa Sig, ignoring the texts she received from her friends and\nfollowers after she stormed home following the bottle incident. She received an\nemail this morning from the Dean’s assistant summoning her to a morning\nmeeting. He had surely heard about the confrontation last night, and Sarah\nimagined he was about to give her a stern talking to.

She pushed through the\nheavy oak door with her stomach churning. She’d never been summoned to this office before. Dean\nCallahan sat behind his desk with a gray suit pressed neat and his face carved\ninto a stern frown.

His office carried a\nfaint whiff of old books, and his thick glasses reflected against the sunlight\nbeaming through the arched windows. To Sarah’s dismay, the Dean wasn’t alone. Hector Morales lounged\nin a chair across from Callahan, the chair styled back to front with Hector’s\nlegs spread over each side and his arms resting on the backrest. The Hispanic\nthug sipped a water bottle with a faint smirk as Sarah stepped inside.

The blond squared her\nshoulders and flashed a shaky smile despite the nausea swirling in her gut. “Mornin’, sir,” she\nsaid. Despite her deep-lying hate for this asshole, she couldn’t let it show in\nfront of the Dean. “You summoned me, Sir? I think there’s been an awful\nmisunderstanding.” Her voice carried an All-American charm that would melt\nbutter, and she coyly placed her hands behind her back to play up the good girl\nvibe.

The Dean raised a\nhand, his voice cutting through her act. “Sit down, Miss Bennett,” he said. His tone was cold and\nfirm as he adjusted his glasses. “There’s been no mixup. I saw the entire\nincident on video myself.”

Sarah’s heart almost\nstopped. All those cameras waving in her face, one of them was bound to get\nback to the Dean. “Sir, I-”

He interrupted her\nimmediately. “Assault,\nracial slurs, all caught plain as day.” His voice struck an authoritative tone\nshe had only previously heard from her father.

Sarah’s ‘good girl’ smile\nfaded as she stepped forward, placing her creamy hands on the oak desk between\nthe two. “It was just a party, Sir,” she pleaded. “It just got a little out of\nhand.” She batted her eyelashes. “I’m a good girl, Sir. Honest. I didn’t mean\nthis man any harm.” The words tasted sour coming out of her mouth, but anything\nwas on the table to avoid punishment.

Hector chuckled with a\nlow rasp as he set his water bottle down. “Good girls don’t sling glass bottles at innocent men,”\nhe said. His accent had softened as he laid it on thick. “You clipped me good.\nI’m gonna live with that scar for the rest of my life.” He tapped the faint red\nscratch near his ear, and his smirk deepened.

“Enough!” The Dean shot Hector a sharp look before\nturning back to Sarah. “Miss Bennett, we take these accusations at UT extremely\nseriously. Your place at this school is under threat.” He paused as his words\nhit like bricks. “If Mr Morales presses charges, you’ll be expelled. Your\nscholar will be revoked, and your record will be trashed.” His gaze pinned her,\nand the blond’s charm crumbled fast.

Sarah’s hand gripped the\ndesk, and her bloodshot eyes widened as panic surged through her gut. “Y- you\ncan’t do that,” she said, her drawl was mixed with fury and fear. “It was just\na dumb party. Everybody was drunk!” She glared at Hector, and her anger flared.\nThe disgusting excuse for a man was destroying her academic career, and he sat\nthere smug, legs spread like he owned the room.

The Dean stood with\nhis voice rising firmly. “It’s\nsettled, Miss Bennett,” he said. “Mr Morales has the evidence and the choice.”\nRobert Callahan’s eyes narrowed. “You better hope Mr Morales has a change of\nheart.” He nodded toward Hector. “Now go, both of you. This meeting is over.”\nHe turned to his desk, and Sarah’s world spun as she stumbled back from the oak\nslab. It was just one fight, she thought desperately.

Sarah stormed out of\nthe office, her blond hair whipping as she shoved through the door. Hector\nfollowed close behind, and his boots annoying thudded on the polished floor.\nThe Southern Belle’s\nheart raced in her chest, and the adrenaline ran through her veins as the Dean’s\nthreat sank deep into her consciousness. Expulsion loomed like a noose\ntightening around her neck. Unfortunately for her, she soon learned that\nexpulsion was the least of her worries.

Gus Perez waited in\nthe hallway with his Texas Ranger badge shining on his chest. His broad frame\nblocked her path, and his boots stood firm on the tile. He wore a khaki shirt\ntucked into his jeans, and his dark brown eyes locked on Sarah with a predator’s calm.

“Rough mornin’, huh?” The large man said to the blond.\nThe man clearly had Mexican heritage, and he spoke with a slow Texas drawl.

Sarah froze with her\nbloodshot eyes narrowing. “What\ndo you want?” she snapped. She wasn’t prepared for any more bullshit today and\njust wanted to head back to her dorm.

Gus stepped closer\nwith his voice dropping low and firm. “I heard all about that racist stunt you pulled last\nnight,” he growled. His words landed like a punch as he towered over the pale,\nslim college girl. “That’s a real shot at jail time, darlin’. Aggravated\nassault with a racial bias. That could be ten years.”

Sarah’s hands shook, her\nstomach twisted as the jail threat hit her hard. “You’re lying,” she said\nhopefully. Her voice cracked with a desperate edge as she took a step back. “It\nwas just a dumb party. You can’t lock me up for that.” She had no idea if she\ncould be charged like that, but she was forced into a corner.

Gus nodded slowly. “That’s true. You won’t\ngo to jail,” he said, pausing momentarily. “We will forget all about this\nincident if Hector here doesn’t press charges.”

Hector eased up beside\nthe terrified woman. “I\nwill likely press charges, though,” he grinned, looking down at her. “Looks\nlike it’ll ruin you good, princesa. Expulsion, jail time. I bet you look good\nin orange.” He flashed a toothy smile. “However,” he paused. “We might be able\nto work somethin’ out.”

Sarah shuddered, and\nher jaw tightened. What was up his sleeve? “Huh, work something out?” She asked meekly.

Hector chuckled and\nbacked away from the college student, heading toward Gus. “Si, amora. I’ll send\nyou the details later.”

“Details?”She questioned, but the man never looked back.\nHector and Gus both headed toward the admissions office exit and left the Queen\nBee to stew in a hell of her own making.

“Assholes!” Sarah cried out once the pair had\ndisappeared. What was she going to do? What was the agreement Hector had\nplanned? Her college career and civic freedom hung by a thread. She was doomed,\nshe thought.

❖

Sarah slumped on her dorm bed, her hair\npulled into a messy bun that still hugged her pretty face. Her comfortable\nsweatshirt hung loose and covered her curves. Her legs lazily draped over the\nside of her bed, exhaustion dragging her down.

The blond kicked off\nher sneakers with a groan, and her eyes flicked over to her friend, Lacey, who\nwas sprawled across her own bed. The hangover lingered from last night’s Kappa Sig party.\nSarah’s stomach still churned from Dean Callahan and Gus Perez’s ominous\nthreat. Could she really be expelled or imprisoned for a dumb, drunken mistake?

Lacey lounged with her\nred hair fanned out across the pillow. Her crop top stretched tight over her\nchest, and shorts rode up her legs. She sipped a bottle of water, trying to\nhydrate herself after the alcohol-fueled night. She giggled, her voice light and\nteasing. “You gave that Mexican\nthug hell last night, Sarah,” she said. “I can’t believe you threw that bottle\nstraight at his dumb face.”

Sarah glared at her,\nher blue eyes narrowing as she pulled her knees up. “This ain’t a joke,\nLace,” she said, her voice shaking with anger and fear. “He’s pressin’ charges.\nThe Dean says I’ll be kicked out if he does. My scholarship gone, everything!”\nShe rubbed her temple, the fury bringing her headache back into focus. “They\nthink I might even face jail time.”

Lacey sat up, hugging\nthe pillow against her chest. “Calm down, girl,” she tried to reassure her friend. “There\nain’t nobody lockin’ you up. Don’t be ridiculous.” She flashed Sarah a sweet\nsmile. “This’ll pass like everything always does. You’re Sarah damn Bennett.\nQueen’s don’t fall that easy.” She giggled.

Sarah exhaled, her\nshoulders dropping as Lacey’s\nwords sank in. “Maybe you’re right,” she said softly. “Daddy’s got connections.\nI’m sure he could fix this mess.” She leaned back against the headboard, and\nher sweatshirt shifted to show a peek of her smooth skin. “I just want that\nasshole out of my life,” she whined.

Lacey nodded and\ngiggled lightly. “See?\nTold ya it’s nothing,” she said calmly. “I bet your Dad could get his ass\ndeported tomorrow if you asked him.”

The blond grinned back\nweakly. “Totally,” she\nreplied, although her eyes told another story. She was reminded of the Texas\nRanger’s words in the admissions office. This was more serious than Lacey made\nit sound. She was in trouble.

Sarah’s phone suddenly\nbuzzed on the nightstand, prompting her to jump. She grabbed it with her\nfingers trembling as she squinted at the screen. She had received an email from\nan unknown sender with a black subject line, but the contents of the text made\nit clear who the email was from.

The blond sucked in a\nbreath and read the message silently, not wanting her friend to see the trouble\nshe was in. “Here\nare my terms if you don’t want me to press charges. You live with me and my\nfamilia for one year. You follow my orders, every order. You limit your English\nand immerse yourself in Hispanic culture. If you refuse a request, I press\ncharges. If you don’t use the Spanish language, I press charges. If you don’t\ntry to embrace our culture, I press charges. Think of it as sensitive training.\nYou have twelve hours to respond to the offer, or I go to the police. Don’t\nleave me waiting.”

Sarah’s hands shook, and\nher stomach twisted as she reread the email again. He expected her to live with\nhim in some slum? Part of her wondered if prison would be better. Follow his\norders? Speak in Spanish? What the hell was he asking of her?

Lacey’s giggle faded as she\ntilted her head, concerned for her friend. “What’s up, girl?” she asked. Her\nvoice stayed light as she leaned forward. “You look like you saw a ghost.”

The blond bolted off\nthe bed with her sneakers thudding on the floor. “Nothin’,” she lied. Her tone cracked as the 20-year-old\nstumbled toward the bathroom. “I just, umm, need a sec.”

Lacey frowned and sat\nup straighter. “You\nsure?” her voice was more worried than before. “You’re actin’ weird. Tell me\nwhat’s going on.” She sat at the edge of her bed.

Sarah didn’t answer, and her\nhands gripped the bathroom doorframe as she staggered inside. She locked the\ndoor, ran for the toilet, and vomited hard - the mixture of her hangover and\noverwhelming sense of dread was too much to stomach. He panted hard, both hands\nholding the edges of the toilet seat.

Lacey’s voice called from\nthe dorm. “Sarah? You okay in there?” Her tone was shakier. “Girl, you’re\nscarin’ me. What’s wrong?”

Sarah slumped against\nthe cool tile with her bloodshot eyes staring blankly. The email’s words echoed across\nher mind. Her life was unraveling before her eyes. “I’m fine,” she croaked. Her\ndrawl brother with the lie as her hands shook. She felt her freedom slip away\nno matter which choice she made. Whatever her decision, Hector had her trapped.

❖

Sarah reluctantly stepped out of the cab\nonto Serpiente Way, her stomach twisting tighter than it had all day. The clock\nhad just hit 10 PM sharp, and the humid East Austin night pressed against her\nfreshly showered skin.

Hector’s email from nine\nhours ago, accepted with three hours to spare, burned in her mind. After she\nhad painstakingly accepted, he’d texted her his address, 148 Serpiente Way,\nEast Austin, and ordered her to bring nothing, telling her everything would be\nprovided for her.

The street stretched\nnarrow and dimly lit, flickering lights casting shadows on the cracked\npavement. Old houses sagged with peeling paint, and porches creaked under\nbarely liveable roofs. Salsa music pulsed from an open window of an abode down\nthe street. This was definitely not the Austin she was used to.

She adjusted her tank\ntop with her hands still trembling as the cab’s taillights faded into the dark. Her jeans clung to her\nlegs, and her damp blond hair hung loosely down her back, still wet from her\ncold shoulder less than an hour ago.

The blond’s blue eyes scanned\nthe rundown house at 148, two stories with chipped paint and rusted stairs\nleading up to the crooked porch. She climbed the steps, with each trudge\nfeeling like a death sentence in her mind. The porch door sat ajar. Sarah\ntapped it lightly and tentatively nudged it open, her heart pounding heavily.

Marisol Morales stood\ninside, arms crossed over a red dress that hugged her full figure tightly. Her\neyes narrowed at Sarah, and her lips pursed into a thin scowl. She had been\nexpecting the blond.

Sarah timidly stepped\nforward and outstretched a hand to greet the fiery Latina. “Uhh, hi. I’m Sarah,”\nshe greeted the woman.

The dark-haired woman\nshook her head, her foot tapping on the hard wooden surface below her. ““No inglés aquí,\ngringa,” she said {“No English here, gringa”}. Her tone sliced with venom as\nshe glared at the pretty blond, a hint of jealousy in her eyes.

Sarah froze to the\nspot, with her blue eyes narrowing back. “Sorry, I didn’t ask for this,” she said. Her drawl\nstayed low and defiant. Marisol’s tone made her flinch, though she had to think\nback to Elementary school Spanish class to understand what the woman said.

Hector and Marisol’s teenage son,\nJavier, lounged on a filthy couch with his lean frame stretched out lazily. His\neyes slid over Sarah’s slim, creamy body with a cocky grin spreading wide. “Mira,\nesta güerita parece una muñeca perdida,” he said {“Look, this little blondie\nlooks like a lost doll”}. His voice rolled smooth and teasing as he sat up,\nundressing her with his eyes.

Sarah shuddered and\nglared at the young man, her hands curling into fists. She had no idea what the\nyoung man said, but the tone was laced with entitled toxic masculinity. “Keep your creepy ass\naway from me!” She snapped.

Marisol slapped the\ntable in front of her. “No\ninglés!” she yelled {“No English!” }.

The blond glanced\naround the room. What kind of hell had she stumbled into?

Hector stepped out\nfrom the hallway like an ominous boogie man. His unbuttoned, dirty flannel hung\nloose over a faded tee, and his rugged face stayed calm despite the faint\nscratch on his ear. He held a cigar in his mouth. The Latino’s eyes locked onto\nthe blond’s with a predator’s focus. “You speak Spanish only aquí, princesa,”\nhe said. His Spanglish rattled in her ears; at least Sarah could understand\nwhat he was saying.

Sarah’s jaw clenched as she\nfaced him. “Look, I’m here, ain’t I? I’m not playing this damn game.” She\nsnorted out. It had been a long day. How could the All-American girl survive a\nyear of this bullshit?

Hector grinned. “You will play mi\njuego, princesa,” he teased. “Or else you will spend la próxima decade en an\norange jumpsuit, princesa.” His English and Spanish words mixing to form a\nunique sentence.

Sarah lowered her\neyes. This man intimidated her, and he had her trapped.

Hector grinned at the\nblond college student’s\nreaction and held out a long, slim white cigarette. “Toma this ahora, gringa,”\nhe said {“Take this now, gringa”} His voice stayed steady as he stepped closer.

Sarah raised an\neyebrow. She had no idea what he was saying, but it was clear what he was\noffering. She slowly shook her head; she didn’t smoke.

The bulky man leaned\nin. “No choice pa’ ti,\ngirl. Take it o tú estás out.” He spat {“No choice for you, girl. Take it or\nyou’re out”}. His eyes narrowed, and his smirk twisted, clearly not taking ‘no’\nfor an answer.

Sarah reluctantly\ngrabbed the cigarette, her fingers trembling as her defiance cracked. “Fine,” she muttered,\nstill in English. She brought the butt to her lips and inhaled the lit\ncigarette deep, coughing as she took it in. “What is this shit?!” She cried\nout.

“Basta!” Hector barked {“Enough!” }. He reached into his\npocket, pulled out a slim black unmarked choker, and approached the\n20-year-old. With a fell swoop, he wrapped it around her neck, buckling it in\nplace. The choker ominously clicked shut with a lock.

“What the fuck i- aghhhh!” Sarah cried out. As she spoke,\nthe collar suddenly jolted the blond with intense shocks of electricity,\nforcing her knees to buckle and almost sending the woman to her knees. She\nglared at him.

“Eso es un shock collar,” Hector grinned. “Excepto que\neste collar puede ser programado a mis especificaciones. Cada vez que hables en\ninglés, vas a sentir un choque, puta.” {“Except this collar can be programmed\nto my specifications. Every time you speak English, you’re going to get a\nshock, bitch.” }.

Sarah’s eyes widened. Not\nonly in horror at what she had just heard but also at the fact that she could\nunderstand every word Hector had just said. The collar had translated his words\nto help her understand. She groaned. She didn’t want to understand that garbage\nlanguage, she thought.

Two men burst through\nthe door as Marisol shouted something in Spanish about them trudging mud\nthrough the house. Sarah understood every word. The men grinned and apologized\nto the woman before they stopped in front of Sarah, their eyes glowing with\nwonder. Both men carried a stench of weed and beer.

“¿Quién es esta nueva belleza que trajiste, jefe?” the\nlarger guy said {“Who’s this new beauty you brought, boss?”}. His voice rasped\nas he stepped close, grabbing her ass hard, uninvited, with a rough squeeze.

Sarah yelped, and her\nbody tensed. “Get\noff me- aghhh!” She cried out, the collar shocking her again as it detected the\nEnglish language escaping her lips.

The smaller guy\nwearing an open jacket and black t-shirt snatched her arm and yanked her close,\nwith his chest pushing tight against hers. “Esta gringa se ve como un buen juguete, ¿verdad?” he\nsaid {“This gringa looks like a nice toy, doesn’t she?” }.

The blond struggled\nagainst him and almost stumbled when the Latin man released her; her body was\ntense as her fight-or-flight response kicked in.

Hector chuckled,\nhumored by the situation. “Vengan.\nA la otra habitación ahora. Tenemos negocio que discutir.” He barked at the\npair. {“Come. To the other room now. We have business to discuss.”} The two\nunrefined men followed their leader towards the adjacent room.

Before he left, Hector\npaused and stared back at Sarah. “Finish that cigarette, and settle in,” he said in\nEnglish. “Welcome to la Familia.”

He laughed, leaving\nSarah alone with his demanding wife, crude son, and a collar she couldn’t remove. She took\nanother drag of the cigarette, going down much easier this time. It was going\nto be a long year, she thought.

\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n

End of Chapter One

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