by B. J Daniels
Maybe she was wrong. Maybe she was making everything up. Maybe he enjoyed scaring women and she was stupidly coping by turning him into a hero.
If a hero hadn’t saved her in the past eight years, why would she think one would now?
“What do you know about his schedule? You said something about him staying certain times in certain places. Is he usually here, at this location, at this time?”
Gabby filtered through her memories. The ways she used to count days. Her many theories about The Stallion’s yearly travel.
“Yes. He’d usually be here, but getting ready to leave.” She tried to work out the days that would be left, but she’d stopped paying such close attention to the days and—
The thought hit her abruptly—a sharp blow to the chest as she met his intense brown gaze. “You know what day it is.” She’d meant that to be a question, not the shaky accusation it had turned into.
He blinked down at her. Something in his face softened and then shuttered blank. “August 23, 2017.”
She did the math in her head, trying to get through the shaky feeling of knowing what day it was. What actual day. For so long she’d known, but in the past two years she’d let it slide to seasons at most.
It was 2017. She’d been here for the entirety of the 2010s.
“Gabby.” He touched her shoulder again, not the hard clamp of a guiding hand but a gentle laying of his palm to the slope of her arm. It was weird not to flinch. Weird not to want to. She wanted to lean into the strong presence. To the way he seemed to have everything under control...even when he didn’t.
“August twenty-third. I would say usually he leaves for the southern compound on the twenty-sixth. I think. Around there. Never quite at the end of the month, but close.”
Jaime smiled down at her, clearly pleased with the information.
When was the last time she’d seen a smile that wasn’t sarcastic? When had anyone tried to smile at her reassuringly in eight long years? It hadn’t happened.
She quashed the emotional upheaval inside her. Or, at least, she tried. It must’ve showed on her face, though, because he moved his hand up to her cheek, a rough, calloused warmth against her skin.
She knew he wanted to fix this for her. To promise her safety. But she didn’t want to hear it. Promises... No, she wanted nothing to do with those.
Jaime was losing track of time and it wouldn’t do. But she looked so sad. So completely overwhelmed by the weight of her existence here. He wanted to do something, anything, to comfort her. To take the tears in her eyes away, to take the despair on her face and stamp it out. He wanted to promise her safety and hope and a new life.
But he could promise none of those things. This was dangerous business, and they could easily end up dead. Both of them.
No matter that he would do everything in his power to not let that happen, it didn’t mean it wasn’t possible. It would be worse to promise something he couldn’t deliver than to fail his mission.
“That means we’ll have to wait about three more days. If he has me stay here while he goes to the southern compound, it gives me the opportunity to get this new information to my superiors. If he wants me to go with him, then I’ll know where it is. Either way, we win.”
“We may win the battle but not the war,” she stated simply, resolutely. He wondered if she was just a little too afraid of getting hopes up herself.
He brushed his thumb down her cheek, even though it was the last thing he should’ve done. But though she was probably more gaunt than she would have been had she been living her actual life, though she was pale when the rich olive of her complexion should be sun-kissed, she was soft. And something special.
Her eyebrows drew together, but she wasn’t looking at him. She was looking at the door and she mouthed something to him, but he couldn’t catch what it was. She didn’t hesitate. She grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him close, her big brown eyes wide but determined. She mouthed the words again and this time he thought he caught them.
The door. Someone was at the door. Behind the door. That meant there was only one thing he could do. He choked back his complicated emotions and dropped his mouth to her ear.
“I’m going to kiss you. It won’t be nice. The minute the door opens, shove me away with everything you’ve got. Understand?”
Her eyes were still wide, her hands on his shoulders. As if she trusted him.
She gave a nod and all he could do was say a little prayer that this would not be...complicated. But if someone was listening at the door, he had to prove he was Rodriguez and nothing more. That meant not being nice. That meant taking what he wanted whether it was what she wanted. And then, somehow, not getting lost in that. Humanity. His calling card. To keep his humanity.
But first... First he had to be Rodriguez. That meant he could not gently lower his mouth to hers. He had to take. He had to plunder.
And he had to stop talking to himself about it and do it.
He slid his arm around her waist and pulled her to him roughly. It was both regret and something far darker he didn’t want to analyze that twined through him. He crushed his mouth to hers if only to stop his brain from moving in this hideous circle.
He focused on the fact that it wasn’t supposed to be nice or easy. It was supposed to scare and intimidate. If she trembled, he was only doing his job. He was proving to everyone that he was Rodriguez—awful and mean, a broken excuse for a human being.
He thrust his tongue into her mouth and tried not to commit her taste to memory. But when was the last time he’d tasted a woman? Sweet and hot. Uncertain, and yet, brave with it. She let his tongue explore her mouth and she did not fight him.
He scraped his teeth along her plump bottom lip and fought to remember who he really was. Not this man, but a man with a badge. A protector. A believer in law and order.
Gabby’s fingers tensed on his shoulders and then relaxed. She did something that felt like a sigh against his mouth, and then he was being pushed violently back and away from sweet perfection.
He allowed himself two steps from the shove before stopping. He did everything to ignore the way his body trembled. Ignored the desperate erection pressing against his jeans. Ignored the inappropriate desire running through his blood. It was wrong and it was cruel but surely his body’s natural reaction to that sort of thing after such a long absence.
Or so he told himself.
He didn’t look at Gabby because it would surely unman him completely. Instead he turned to face the interruption with a sneer on his mouth.
Layne didn’t need to know the hatred in his expression was for himself, not the interruption.
“You have the worst timing, amigo,” he said, trying to eradicate the affectedness from his voice. “I grow weary of it.”
Layne snorted. “You knew I was coming to fetch you at one. And here you are, yet again, clothed and being pushed around by a woman. Starting to question your strength, Rodriguez.”
“Question all you want. Then test me. I’d love you to.”
Layne merely crossed his hands over his chest. “Boss wants us now.”
“Sí.” Jaime strode to the door, making sure never to look back at Gabby. The only reason Jaime paused in the hallway instead of going straight to The Stallion was to ensure Layne left Gabby’s room without saying a damn thing. Because if that man said something to her...
Jaime balled his hands into fists. He had to get his temper under control. He wasn’t pissed off at Layne. The man had done exactly what he was supposed to.
Jaime was pissed at himself.
Much like the afternoon before, Jaime let Layne lead him down the hall and outside. When they entered the shed this time, The Stallion’s demeanor was calm rather than the unhinged anger of yesterday. He was sitting at his desk all but smiling.
“You’re late. I suggest you get that kind o
f impulse under control. I demand timeliness in all things, gentlemen.”
“Sí, senor.”
“Now that that’s been taken care of, we have our next target.”
“The hypnotist?” Wallace asked from the corner.
“Yes, but not just her. A Texas Ranger has taken it upon himself to protect this young woman. I sent two men to follow them and to bring her to me.” The Stallion reclined in his chair, his smile widening.
“What about the Ranger?” Jaime asked.
“He’s of no use to us. I want her,” The Stallion said with a sneer. “I hate when law enforcement try to get in my way. Bunch of useless pigs. We’ll get rid of him and take the girl. The girl is very important.” The Stallion’s empty blue eyes zeroed in on Jaime. “There is a message I want you to deliver to our Gabriella, Rodriguez.”
Jaime tried to maintain a blank expression, but it was hard with the addition of Gabby into the conversation. That should be a warning in it of itself that he was letting himself get too wrapped up in this whole thing.
“The hypnotist has quite the interesting connection to our oldest guest.”
“Connection?” Jaime repeated, hoping he covered the demand with enough confusion in his tone to make The Stallion think it was a language barrier issue.
“Natalie Torres is our hypnotist. Whatever Herman told her and this Ranger, I want to know it. But more, I want the girl.” The Stallion turned his computer screen to face Layne and Jaime. “The resemblance. Do you see it?”
Jaime schooled himself into complete indifference. “Sí.” The woman in the picture was more slight of build than Gabby and she had a softer chin and a sharper nose. But she had the same mass of curly black hair. The same big brown eyes.
“Tell our Gabriella her sister will be joining us soon. Make sure you mention how close she was to being the perfect woman. Perhaps her sister will fit the role she could not.” The Stallion leaned back in his chair, smiling a self-satisfied smirk.
Jaime tried to match it, afraid it only looked like a scowl. But if he failed, The Stallion was too happy with himself to notice.
Chapter 7
Gabby knew it was beyond foolish to wait in the dark and hope Jaime would come to her again. She’d answered the questions he’d needed answered and he probably had henchman things to do.
Besides, she didn’t really want to see him. Not after that kiss, which was hardly fair to call a kiss since it wasn’t real. Like her life. It was a shallow approximation of something else. No matter how his mouth on hers had rioted through her like some sort of miracle.
She was clearly delirious or crazy. Maybe it was some sort of rescue-fantasy type thing that all kidnap victims succumbed to. She didn’t know, and it wouldn’t matter. Because it had all been fake. It had been a show.
Layne was... Gabby didn’t know if “suspicious” was the right word, but he clearly didn’t like Jaime and that was going to be dangerous. Because he would be watching him and making sure that whatever moves he made matched up with the man he was supposed to be. Making enemies as an undercover agent had to be incredibly dangerous and Layne was clearly Jaime’s enemy.
Maybe she should think up something that could help Jaime in that regard. Surely there had to be something she’d witnessed or put together that would make all of this moot. Something he could tell his superiors that would make sure they felt like they had enough to prosecute.
Maybe if she told him the exact location of the holes she’d had to dig two summers ago, Jaime could find out what was buried there. Maybe that would be enough. Surely a dead body or two would be something.
If they could get through the next two days, and The Stallion left, surely Jaime could do a little figurative and literal digging.
She could make a map, like the one they’d made when trying to figure out the locations of the other compounds. But it would be difficult without paper. It would be difficult without being outside and working through landmarks. Maybe Jaime could sneak her out once The Stallion was gone.
She very nearly laughed at herself. Yes, after eight years she was going to sneak outside and bring The Stallion down with an undercover FBI agent. That was about as plausible as getting kidnapped, she supposed. But then what? She’d go back to her life? Eight years missing and she’d just waltz back into her old life? Twenty-eight with eight years of absolutely no education or work experience. Eight years without a life.
Maybe she could add digging shallow graves to her résumé. Excellent seamstress. Know just where to hide the drugs.
This was such stupidity. Why was she even going down this road? The future had never held any appeal, and it still didn’t. Jaime was here to do a job, and she’d do whatever he needed, but she certainly wasn’t going to allow fantasies about escaping. About helping him or saving him from his gruesome undercover work.
The door opened and Gabby’s heart jumped to her throat. Not as it had the night before. That night, she’d been scared. This night she was anything but.
She scrambled into a sitting position. But instead of staying in the dark, or saying her name, Jaime turned on the light. She blinked against the sudden brightness.
“I apologize,” he said, his tone strangely bland, maybe a little tense. “I should’ve warned you.”
“It’s all right,” she replied carefully, trying to read the blank expression on his face. He was tense and not like she’d ever seen him before. Because this wasn’t his Rodriguez acting, and it wasn’t exactly the honest and competent Jaime, either.
“Is everything all right?” she asked after he stood there in silence for ticking seconds.
“I want you to know that it will be. But there is some uncomfortable information I have to share with you.”
Her heart sank, hard and sharp. She realized who this Jaime was. FBI Agent Jaime. A little aloof, delivering bad news. Probably how he delivered the news to a family that someone was dead.
“Uncomfortable?” she repeated, because surely if another one of her family members was dead it would be more than uncomfortable.
“If I could spare you this, I would,” he said, taking a step toward her, some of his natural-born compassion leaking through. “But I have to do what The Stallion asks right now.”
A shiver of fear took hold of her, with deep awful claws, and she pressed herself into the corner of where her bed met the wall.
But this was Jaime, and he wasn’t going to hurt her just because The Stallion told him to. She wanted to believe that. But for a moment she wondered if something in her would have to be sacrificed to take The Stallion down.
“It’s just a message, Gabby,” he said softly. “I won’t hurt you. I promise. No matter what.”
Part of her wanted to cry. Over the fact he could see through her so easily. The fact she could feel guilty over making him think that she thought he was going to hurt her. She wanted to cry at the unfairness of it all, and that was just...so seven years ago.
She straightened with a deep breath and fixed him with her most competent I-can-handle-anything expression. “Just tell me. Say it outright.”
“The Stallion is after your sister.”
Gabby thought she couldn’t be surprised at what horrors The Stallion could do. After all, he’d gleefully informed her of her father’s heart attack. Made it very clear she had been the cause. She knew The Stallion killed, and extorted, and hurt people.
He was after her sister. Her Nattie. There was no way to be calm in the face of it. She jumped off the bed and reached for Jaime.
“He doesn’t have her,” he said calmly. So damn calm. “And she’s with a Texas Ranger who will do everything in his power to protect her—that, I know for sure.”
“But he’s after her. He’s after her. Purposefully. Why? Why?”
Jaime took her by the shoulders, looking her directly in the eye. She could see all of that compassion
and all of the right he wanted to do. No matter how she told herself not to believe in it. No matter how she told herself it was a figment of her imagination and that he couldn’t really be good, she felt it. She believed it and knew it. No amount of reason seemed to change the fact that she trusted him.
“She has something to do with the dead messenger. I don’t know the whole story yet, but I think she knows something. She’s a hypnotist working with the Rangers, and if she’s with the police... This could be... It could be a positive development. I know it doesn’t feel like that, but this could be a positive.”
“Is she...is she looking for me?” Gabby asked, ashamed that her voice wavered. But Nattie, a hypnotist, working with the Rangers? It didn’t make sense. And Gabby was afraid of whatever the answer would be. If Natalie was looking for her, Nat had wasted eight years of her life. If she wasn’t and this was some cosmic coincidence...
Jaime’s strong hands squeezed her shoulders. Comforting. Strong. “I don’t know. I don’t know why your sister was in that interrogation room with The Stallion’s messenger. I don’t know why...” He shook his head, regret and frustration in the movement. “I wish I knew more, but I don’t. But The Stallion wants you to know he’s after your sister because he wants to break you.”
Maybe if it had been her and The Stallion alone delivering his message, it would have succeeded in breaking her. But something about having Jaime there, something about feeling his strength and his certainty that this could work out...
“He won’t break me,” Gabby said firmly.
Jaime’s mouth curved, one of those kind smiles that tried to comfort her. It made her feel as though...as though there was hope. That was dangerous. Hope was such a dangerous thing here.
“You’re an incredibly brave woman,” Jaime said, giving her shoulders yet another squeeze.