“No. Don’t do this.” He was going to rape her in a jungle shack. Her life was over. She didn’t even wipe the cascading tears. The fear, the terror boiling in her mind and gut overpowered planning an escape. Her fate was sealed.
Alejandro cackled. “My favorite part. Every time. Every girl. I get to see how much you fight. I watch your will to live drain like a gutted pig.”
She whimpered. The tears obscured her vision. She wasn’t sure if her pleas were verbal or frozen in her petrified brain.
Alejandro released her wrist. She dropped on the scratchy bed mat, then rolled away, slamming into wall. The shack swayed, as if breathing in and out, trying to decide if it should remain upright. His gaze raked over her, sending ice-cold shivers in the humid heat down her spine. He scraped the wooden chair on the dirt floor, leaving a trail in the dust. The devil flashed across his face.
“Sit here. Now.”
She shook her head. Tears flew off her cheeks, landing on her shoulders and collarbone. Her fists clawed into the mat, bracing for his wrath. Blood thumped in her ears, drowning out his grotesque breaths. Her pulse pounded faster and faster, swimming her head dizzy.
A howl rumbled from Alejandro. He balled his brawl-scarred fists until his cracked knuckles changed color, off-white and fleshy-red. He wore a tight black shirt and black cargo pants with loops and pockets. A knife was strapped to his thigh, and a gun was holstered on his hip. He looked like an immoral, repulsive adaptation of Colby.
His calloused hand wrapped around her neck, and in one swift move, she was in the chair. The force toppled it onto the back two legs before it slammed back to earth. He yanked her one arm, then the next behind the chair, tying them secure. Too tight. It stung before both hands went numb. Pins and needles crawled up her forearms.
Alejandro radiated heat. “I was mistaken. I thought you might have more fight than this sniveling.”
He bit down on her shoulder. More of shock than pain caused her to recoil. She railed against her hand ties, kicked her feet, aiming for the crotch, but as usual, that did nothing.
Alejandro slinked in front of her, just out of toe’s reach. She still tried like hell to get him. To keep his deranged, lust-dripping self away. He cackled again and stepped forward, ignoring her attacking knees. One disgusting finger traced a path from her temple, down, down, down, until it hovered between her breasts.
Mia strained away from him. The tears stopped. Anger and hatred rushed in their place. He wanted a fight? She’d fight. She’d stay alive and intact until Colby and Titan returned to kick his ass for her.
She gritted her teeth against her disgust, drew back, and spit into his face.
“You whore!” He slapped her face.
Stars exploded. Her vision went white, then black. Her head bobbed, searching for equilibrium. Then she found it. “Screw you.”
“With pleasure.” He rubbed his hands together and leered at her. “So you do have fight.”
“Untie my hands, and I’ll show you.” She jutted her chin toward him, itching to stay away from him but knowing there wasn’t another option.
A wicked smile curled his lips. “Let the fun begin, whore.”
He pulled the knife from its holster, tossing it from one hand to the next, dancing it between his fingers. As if he couldn’t contain his excitement, Alejandro flashed behind her, cutting the blade into the bindings. The ties fell to the dirt floor, and her tense arms dangled numb and asleep. Completely useless.
“You promised a fight. Do you want to run?” He laughed.
The cold metal blade pressed against the back of her neck, its tip scratching her skin. She was sick of men with knives on her neck. Sick of the memories. The Colonel. The Cartel leader. And now this fiend. Sick of it all.
“You’re in charge now? You are El Jefe?” she asked.
“You try to distract me? To patronize me?”
“No.” She was trying to buy time.
“Liar. You spit in my face. Promise a delightful fight. And now talk business. Run. Try me.”
Fist wrapping into her hair, he yanked her head back, then stepped in front of her. Mia drew her knee into his crotch. Finally. Caught off guard, he hunched over, covering himself with his hands. This was her moment to run.
Her feet pounded the dirt before her mind realized she was pushing through the underbrush. Leaves were so thick, she ran blind. Branches hit her face, stinging her skin. The air smelled fragrant and felt thick as she sucked it in. Clueless as to where to go, and how to get there, she pushed through aching muscles and scattering thoughts.
Far too close to hope for survival, Alejandro’s angry voice bled through the vegetation, intermixing with the birds and insects, threatening and promising her worst nightmares.
Everywhere, each direction, brilliant green branches and bright flowers. New shadows from the barely setting sun cast purple hues. Her breaths and gasps burned. The sundress clung to her, sweat-soaked. Thinking her lungs couldn’t manage one more wheeze, Mia pressed up against a thick tree and slumped to bended knees, damp hair hanging around her.
Her heart pounded loud enough that she wouldn't have been surprised if Alejandro pinpointed her exact location. Sweat dripped into her eyes and slipped into her mouth. She ignored its salty taste. An inner strength bubbled strong. She would do whatever it took to stay alive long enough to watch Colby slice his throat.
Nature surrounded her, deafening her. Cacaw. Cacaw. A loud bird screeched overhead. Prickled awareness hit, and her scream fought to escape, but a hand slapped her face.
No.
Another hard hand clamped her shoulder. Fear erupted inside her. She lashed out, clawing, biting, and kicking. She bucked, and she prayed.
No.
She wouldn’t go down this way. Not after everything she’d survived. But she hit the ground anyway. Hard, face first, with inflexible hands holding her down, perhaps in her own grave.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
The Rover slid to a stop in front of the shack. All the men fell out, except Winters. He stretched one leg, then the next. Raw agony weighed heavy on every level. Mental. Physical. Emotional.
Brock turned around. “You need a hand?”
“Nah. Just give me a second.”
Luck had kept him alive to this point. Hopefully, penicillin would do the rest and keep his busted ass free of nasty infection. But his molasses-like moves had everything to do with his wounded heart and not his GSW hatchet job.
Mia was feet away. The only thing he wanted to do was gather her tight in his arms and kiss every gorgeous inch of her body, starting with her beautiful face. He wanted to worship her brilliance and strength. He wanted to thank her, relish her, and care for her.
But no matter what he wanted, he knew better. She was an innocent. A perfect woman meant to make a normal man happy. A man who came home every day for dinner, who pushed paper and typed on a computer, nine-to-five. Someone whose most dangerous decision would revolve around day-old tuna salad at the corner deli. Normal, everyday problems.
His problems weren’t in the same hemisphere as normal. His daughter sprang from a sex trafficking ring. The woman he was boots over ball caps for, he’d met because he’d kidnapped her. He tangled with professional assassins and warlords on the regular. A habitual dinnertime just didn’t exist in his world. What woman would even want him?
Not a smart one. And Mia Kensington was the smartest woman he’d ever met.
Fuck this awful stomachache. He’d take gunshot wounds any day over this shit. He felt hot and cold. Cloudy-headed and incredibly, desperately sure of his sub-par value to Mia.
The slower he plodded toward the shack, the more he hated himself for holding back. If he went any faster, it would only serve to hasten the pain. What a catastrophic conundrum.
He was the last to enter the shack. He took in the small space and his brothers-in-arms. Jared, Brock, and Rocco. Faces pinched and etched with concern.
“Where is she?” Winters looked around the b
are room. He kicked the dirt floor, and his leg retaliated with an intramuscular fire. “Where the fuck is she?”
No answers. Jared bent over and picked up a plastic handcuff, smacking it against his palm.
Winters stalked to a lone chair and threw it against the shambled wall. His arms roared. His wounds throbbed. The chair took out a few of the rotted wood wall slats. It splintered and scattered on the dirt floor like kindling.
“Calm it down, Winters.” Jared didn’t sound like he was listening to his own advice.
Winters didn’t plan to either. His fists balled tight. His fingernails dug into to his skin. This was why he should have stayed the hell away from her. How many times had the poor woman been attacked since he stepped into her life? Goddamn it.
“We’re going after her. Now,” Winters said with a level of anger he didn’t know existed.
“Go where? We need a plan.”
“I’m sick of your slow plans.” He stormed toward the door.
“You stop right there, soldier. What are you going to do? Canvass the entire jungle?”
“There’s that strategy to consider.”
“You’ve got shit for brains where this chick is concerned. Brock, if Winters rolls out of here, you grab him and nail his ass to a chair.”
Brock glared at Jared. “Yeah, thanks, man. That’ll be like catching Niagara fucking Falls with a fly net.”
The hand over Mia’s mouth tightened and her heart raced. Adrenaline fueled her. She snapped her teeth open and shut like a crazed piranha, hoping to bite flesh and gain her release. Her elbow arched back and slammed into a brick wall of solid muscle. Her attacker wasn’t fazed.
No. No. No. She refused. This wouldn’t happen.
Summoning power, fortitude, and brawn, Mia bellowed in exertion, pushed off her hands and knees, and slammed the back of her skull into his face. His teeth tore into her scalp, but his hands didn’t let go.
The tiniest whoosh of a curse word danced in her ear. An English curse word. No accent.
The man pinned her legs beneath her and pulled her close as though she were as fragile and delicate as an egg. “Mia. Stop. It’s Cash.”
She opened her eyes, seeing all the dark around her. Her nostrils flared open, closed, open, closed, as she fought for breath and to understand what was happening.
Cash. Titan.
“I’ll move my hand,” he whispered. “But you can’t make a noise. Got it?”
She nodded like her life depended on it. She had to tell him she was being hunted. His tight grip relaxed, but she was still pinned. Cash rolled next to her, dressed in a pile of leaves. His face paint blurred into his costume.
She mouthed to him. Alejandro. She pointed ahead. No, wait. To the right. Shit. Where was he?
Cash cupped her hand. “I got this. Stay put. I’ll come back to you.”
“Don’t leave me. Please.”
He scanned the area, then moved to her ear. “You stick close. I’ll scout him out, then he’s done. You okay with that?”
Mia’s lip pursed into a tight line, but the tears spilled over. His eyebrows bit together, and maybe he was more scared of her crying than finding Alejandro. Whatever the reason, she was glad to stay near him. “Thank you.”
He lifted onto his elbows, tucked a rifle into place, and drew his legs beneath him, motioning for her to do the same, minus the gun. “Ready?”
Mia nodded, but she was suction cupped to the wet ground.
“Look at me, Mia.”
Mia stared straight ahead in the dark, then at him. His face was a shade above invisible. This should be easier. All she had to do was follow Cash. Then Alejandro would die, and she could run back to Colby as fast as her legs would take her. But her body ignored her awesome plan.
“Mia, honey.” He redirected her attention with his thumb and forefinger, tilting her chin toward him. “Focus on me. We’ve got a good man to get you back to. Winters oughta have my ass that I haven’t killed that fucker yet. Put all your fear into a box. We’ve got places to go. People to snipe.”
“A reporter asked a sniper what he felt after he shot someone.” Now wasn’t the time for nervous chatter. She was losing her mind. But it was the only thing she could think of in this moment.
He laughed quiet as the wind. “And the sniper said recoil. And honey, you ain’t even going to feel that. Ready?”
A smile crossed her face. “Yes.”
“Well, alrighty. Get your butt up, and on my six.” He dropped his hand from her chin, and readied his rifle.
He slinked forward, looking more like foliage than a man. She was inches away, scared if he got too far ahead of her, he’d melt into the night. He paused. She held her breath. Nothing sounded. No birds. No insects. No scary night animals. The last of daylight abandoned them, and they were surrounded by the blackest of blacks.
He pivoted quickly. She had no idea why. Her ears burned to hear something, anything. His silent steps crept forward as though following a well-laid trail. She sounded like a freight train pushing through a rail yard.
What looked like a leaf-covered branch motioned her down. She dropped to all fours and flattened on the still warm earth. Wet leaves pressed against her cheek. An insect crawled across her skin. She suppressed the urge to react and prayed for resilience.
A soft flick sounded, followed by a click. Mia couldn’t hear Cash breathe. Couldn’t see the leaves move. Time passed as she recited grade school limericks over and over, pretending she was anywhere else.
The world around went brilliant for a spark of a second. A muffled pop punched the night. Cash didn’t move. Neither did she. The night stilled after the momentary burst of artillery lighting.
Another soft click. He rolled onto his back and sat up. “You all right?”
“He’s dead?” Her ears pounded with racing blood.
“Yeah.”
She strained to hear any other dangers. “You sure?”
“Did you just question my incredible cartel sniping skills? Seriously?” He snorted a laugh.
“Sorry, Cash. Didn’t mean to offend you.”
“I’m just playing. ‘Course he’s dead. And I don’t see any other fuckers out there. Including our boys. There will be hell to pay when I find them.”
“We’re way out in the jungle. How would they know which way to go?”
“You weren’t that hard to track, honey.”
“You think there’s a problem?”
“Hell no. I think they figured they’d had a long day, and I’d take care of this. Bet you they’ve wrangled a bottle of liquor and are waiting for us to mosey on back.”
“Well, let’s go. I need to see Colby.”
“Yes, ma’am. Anything to see ole Winters wrapped around a girl’s finger.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Mia peeled through thick bushes. Wide leaves obscured her view. Spiderwebs caught on her skin, netting her face. Insects used her as a landing zone before vaulting into the dark abyss. It had to be the dead of night, but it felt like the sun was high overhead. Cash marched them toward the shack, and with each step, she made a list of things she’d say to Colby. The list started with don’t get hurt again, and ended with let’s find a shower. Together.
One more step and Cash cleared the shrubbery, holding back a large branch for her. She slipped into the clearing. A huge beam of relief surfaced. This horror story was over, and all she wanted to do was crawl into Colby’s arms to sleep.
Less than a dozen yards away, that stupid shack stood waiting for her return. But this time, she wouldn’t be alone. Amber light shined between the slats and glowed at the front opening. Pure joy energized her faster than a red-eye latte. She’d seriously have to re-evaluate what made her happy when she was back on American soil. Shitty shacks shouldn’t make her so giddy. But a wounded warrior who liked to lounge in her bed… that’d be tops on her list of the super happy. Minus the wounded part.
Angry, male complaints poured out of the shack. She picked up h
er pace, craning to see the problem.
Colby careened around the doorjamb, arm overhead, middle finger reaching for the moon. He was backlit and illuminated, and he didn’t see her or Cash ahead. He looked colossal. Perfect and heroic. She needed in those arms and couldn’t get to him fast enough.
Behind him, Jared cursed and shouted. “No one else falls for a chick. Ever. Again. No one.”
She slammed into Cash’s backside. He was bent at the waist, laughing. His jungle suit hung off his torso, rifle dangling in one hand. He was always laughing, and she had no time for a roadblock. Mia bounded around him, lunging out of the shadows for Colby.
Torment and relief. His face played a quick variety of emotions that she could name, but she didn’t want to play psychologist. She just wanted him. His arms wrapped tight around her, and his wonderful lips found hers. She wanted everything to be all right and would only believe it when he said the truth.
“Hey there, doll.” His voice cracked.
“Thank God, you’re alive.” She palmed his cheeks. “Don’t ever leave me like that. And don’t get hurt. Ever again.”
First thing on her list. Check. What was number two? She had no idea, ‘cause all she wanted to say was kiss me.
He didn’t say okay, and he wasn’t nodding.
“Did you hear me, Colby? Don’t leave me like that ever again.”
He hooked an arm around her waist, and she went on tiptoes. He swiped a wisp of hair and tucked it behind her ear. The pad of his thumb traced her cheek as he cupped his giant hand around her chin. The world slowed down. A gentle buzz ran through the air. Electrical pulses quaked around them. If it hadn’t been for the blood, the sweat, the violence, and the depravity, this might have been the most romantic moment in her entire existence.
Cash cruised by them. “You’re welcome, buddy. I’ll let you know how you can repay this teeny favor later.”
Colby folded her into him, sighing and breathing against her ear. The sizzle of his breathy clasp shivered down her spine. Thousands of nerve pathways burst to life, crackling to her core. His forehead dipped and met hers, and the touch burned. They breathed in unison. No words. No explanations.
The Titan Series 1-3 Boxed Set Page 21