by Nicole Helm
She clutched him harder. “Come back,” she blurted. She said it spontaneously, but she still meant it. She wanted him to come back. She wanted more than a kiss.
“So we can...” He cleared his throat. “Plan, right?”
She smiled at him because it was cute he would even think that. “We can plan, too.” She watched him swallow as though he were nervous. She didn’t mind that the least little bit.
“Gabby.”
“Come back tonight. Spend the night with me.”
It was a wonderful thing to know he wanted to. That though he was resisting, something deep inside him wanted to or he wouldn’t question it at all. It was so against his inner sense of right and wrong, but he wouldn’t fight with that if he didn’t truly want her.
“It wouldn’t be right. To... It would be taking advantage,” he said, as though trying to convince himself.
“You’re worried about me taking advantage of you?” she asked as innocently as she could manage.
He laughed, low and rumbly. It struck her that this was the first time she’d heard it, possibly one of the very few times she’d heard nice laughter in years.
“Gabby, you’ve been through hell for eight years.”
As if she needed the reminder. “I guess that’s all the more reason to know exactly what I want,” she said resolutely. She knew what she wanted and if she could have it... If she could have him... She’d do it now. She wouldn’t waste time. “I want you, Jaime.”
He inhaled sharply, but he didn’t say anything. “I have to go,” he said, getting to his feet.
She gave him a nod, but she thought he’d be back. She really thought he’d return to her. Because he felt it, too. He had to feel it, too. No matter how warped she sometimes felt, this was the most real she’d felt in eight years. The most honest and the most true. The most certain she could survive getting out of this hell. That she wanted to.
That settled inside her like some weird evangelical itch. She wanted to be able to give that same feeling to the other girls. They deserved something, too. Something to believe in. They hadn’t spent as much time as her, no, but they had spent enough. They had all spent enough.
Jaime was willing to break the rules and get them there, as soon as Natalie was safe. Not because that helped him any, but because she loved her sister and he knew that meant something to her.
Gabby left her room. She didn’t know where exactly Jaime had gone, but she wasn’t after him quite now. First, she wanted to find Alyssa. She wanted everyone to know that she was on board, maybe not in the way they thought, but regardless. They were going to find a way out of this.
She walked into the common room, which was basically their workroom opposite the kitchen and dining area.
Tabitha and Jasmine were sitting on the dilapidated couch working on a project The Stallion had assigned them a few days ago. Gabby realized she’d forgotten all about the project and what her role in it was supposed to have been. But ever since Jaime had arrived, it hadn’t even occurred to her. Then again, she supposed to The Stallion her job now was to be payment to Jaime. Though she was surprised the girls hadn’t asked her for help.
Jasmine looked at her first, eyes wide. She looked from Alyssa, who was riffling through drawers frantically in the kitchen, back to Gabby.
“Did you...?” she whispered then trailed off.
Gabby nodded. “I didn’t get a gun or anything, but I think I can. If you give me some time.” There was hope. She needed to give them hope.
Alyssa slammed a cabinet door closed and stormed over to them. “What does that mean?” she demanded.
“It means I couldn’t quite sneak a weapon off of him, but he seemed a little...sympathetic almost. Like if I keep feeding him our sob story he might...”
“What you really need to do is willingly sleep with him, not fight him off,” Alyssa said flatly, giving her a once-over. “When he thinks you’re not fighting him, it’ll give you time to grab his gun and shoot him.”
Gabby couldn’t hide a shudder. Maybe if they’d been talking about any of the other men, she wouldn’t have felt an icy horror over Alyssa’s words. But this was Jaime. Still, she couldn’t let even the other girls think he’d gotten to her.
She forced herself to look at Alyssa evenly. “And then what?”
“What do you mean and then what?” Alyssa demanded.
“There are at least three other men here almost at all times. What do you suggest I do after I shoot him? I’m pretty sure gunshots can be heard somewhere else in this little compound, then one of them is going to come running to shoot me. They’ve got a little more experience with guns and killing people than I do.”
Alyssa pressed her lips together, neither mollified nor understanding.
“You just have to give me some time,” Gabby said, trying for calm and in charge. “If not to convince him to give me a weapon, then at least time to find a way to sneak one off him without him noticing right away. We do this without a plan, without thinking everything through, then we’re all dead. You can’t just...”
Alyssa’s face was even more mutinous, turning red almost. Gabby tried for conciliatory, though it grated at her a bit. “I know we all want out.” She looked at Tabitha and Jasmine, who were watching everything play out from where they sewed on the couch. “And I know once you start thinking about all of the things you could do once you got out of here that it builds inside you and everything feels... Too much. You start to panic. But if we are going to survive getting out of here, we have to be smart. Okay?”
“Does it matter if we survive?” Alyssa asked, all but snarling at Gabby.
Jasmine gasped and Tabitha straightened.
“Of course it matters,” Tabitha shouted from the couch. She took in a deep, tremulous breath, calming herself as Jasmine patted her arm. “I’d rather be alive and here for the next ten years than die and never get a chance to see my family again.” Her voice wavered but she kept going. “We have to have patience, and we have to do this smart. This is the first time any of us has access to a weapon, and we can’t waste the chance. It won’t happen again. At least, not for a very long time.”
Alyssa scoffed, but she didn’t pose any more arguments. “I’m going crazy in this place,” she muttered, hugging herself.
“Why don’t you help us work?” Jasmine offered. “I know it isn’t any fun, but it’ll at least keep your mind busy.”
“You two can be his slave. I have no interest.”
Tabitha and Jasmine exchanged an eye-roll and Alyssa stomped back to the kitchen. She riffled through the drawers again, inspecting butter knives and forks.
Gabby hoped Natalie and her Ranger escaped The Stallion’s men once and for all, and quickly. Not just for her own sake, and for Jaime’s, but because she wasn’t certain Alyssa would last much longer.
If she didn’t last, if she kept being something of a loose cannon, then they were all in danger. Including Jaime.
* * *
JAIME DIDN’T GO to Gabby that night. He knew it was cowardly to avoid her. He also knew it was for the best. For both of them. He wouldn’t be able to resist what she offered, and it wasn’t fair to take it. So he kept himself away, falling into a fitful sleep that was never quite restful.
The next day he busied himself outside. He fed The Stallion a story about wanting to come up with some new security tactics, but what he was really trying to do was to see if he could find any evidence of a shallow grave.
The Stallion was so obsessed with Layne and Wallace’s progress in finding Ranger Cooper and Gabby’s sister, Jaime felt pretty confident he could get away with a lot of things today.
Including going to see Gabby for only personal reasons.
He shook the thought away as he toed some dirt in the front yard. Unfortunately the entire area, especially in the
front, was nothing but hardscrabble existence. Scrub brush and tall, thick weeds. It was impossible to tell if things had been dug, if things had grown over, if empty patches of land were a sign of a grave or just bad soil.
Being irritated with himself over his inability to find a lead didn’t stop him from continuing to do it.
Until he heard the scream. A howling, broken sound. Keening almost. Coming from inside. From a woman.
“Gabby,” he said aloud.
He forgot what he’d been doing and ran full-speed to the front door. He struggled with the chains on the doors and cursed them. It took him precious minutes to realize the door wasn’t just locked and chained, it had been sealed shut with something. There was no possible way of getting to her through this door. He swore even louder and rushed around to the back.
Was The Stallion inside or in his shed? Was he hurting them? Jaime grabbed one of the guns from his chest. If he was hurting Gabby—if he was hurting any of them—this was over. Jaime wasn’t going to let that happen. Not for anything. Not for any damn evidence to be used in a useless trial.
He’d just kill him and be done with it.
Nearly sweating, Jaime finally got all the locks and chains undone. He hadn’t heard another scream and didn’t know if that was a good or bad sign. He ran down the hall, looking in every open door. Gabby wasn’t in her room and it prompted him to run faster.
He reached the main room and skidded to a halt at the sight before him. Gabby was standing there in the center of the room looking furious, blood dripping down her nose.
“What the hell happened?” he demanded, searching the room and only seeing the other women.
Gabby’s gaze snapped to his and she widened her eyes briefly, as if to remind him he had an identity to maintain. It wasn’t Demanding FBI Agent. Or concerned...whatever you are.
Either way, he’d forgotten. He’d let fear make him reckless. He’d let worry slip his mask. He very well could have ruined everything if not for that little flick of a gaze from Gabby.
He took a breath, calming the erratic beating of his heart. He moved his gaze from Gabby’s bloody face, fighting every urge to grab her and pat her down himself to make sure she wasn’t hurt anywhere else.
“Well, senoritas?” he demanded, rolling his R’s in as exaggerated a manner as he could manage in his current state. He glared at the other three women. The two blondes were holding the brunette down on the couch.
The brunette was breathing heavily, her nostrils flaring as she glared at Gabby. Slowly, she took her gaze off Gabby and let it rest on him.
She sneered and then spat. Right on one of the girls holding her. The slighter blonde shrieked and jumped back, which gave the brunette time to throw off the other woman and jump to her feet.
It wasn’t wasted on him that Gabby immediately went into a fighter stance.
“First shot was free, but you hit me again, I will beat you,” she said, angry and menacing as the brunette stepped toward her.
Jaime stepped between them. “I will say this only once more. What is going on?” He realized he was still holding his gun and gestured it at the angry brunette threateningly.
The girl who’d been spit on squeaked and cowered while the girl who’d been flung off the brunette turned an even paler shade of white.
“Let’s have story time, Alyssa. Tell our captor here what you’re after,” Gabby goaded.
“I’m going to get out of here,” Alyssa yelled, whirling from Jaime to the blondes. “I don’t care if I kill all of you.” She pointed around him at Gabby. “I am going to get the hell out of here.”
Jaime didn’t want to feel sorry for the girl considering she was clearly at fault for Gabby’s bloody nose, but he looked at Gabby and watched her shoulders slump and the fury in her eyes dim.
Damn it. He couldn’t blame the woman for losing her mind here. Not in the least. But it was the last thing they needed if they were actually going to put something in motion that might get them out.
“You would be dead before you killed anyone, senorita. Calm yourself.”
She bared her teeth at him. “I can’t do this anymore. I can’t do this anymore. Shoot me.” She lunged toward him. “God, put me out of my misery.”
“Hush,” he ordered flatly, tamping down every possible empathetic feeling rising up inside him. “I’m not going to kill you. And you are not going to kill anyone. You’re going to calm yourself.”
“Or what? What happens if I don’t?” She got close enough to shove him, even reached out to do it, but Gabby was stepping between them.
Jaime was certain the woman would throw another punch at Gabby and he would have to intervene, but Gabby did the most incomprehensible thing. She pulled the woman into a hug.
And the woman began to sob.
The others started, too. All four of them crying, Gabby with her nose still bleeding.
Jaime had to clench his free hand into a fist and pray for some kind of composure. It was too much, these poor women, taken from their lives and expected to somehow endure it.
“What is all this?” The Stallion demanded and Jaime was such a fool he actually jumped. Where had all his instincts gone? All his self-preservation? He’d lost it, all because Gabby had gotten under his skin.
Jaime steeled himself and turned to face The Stallion.
“Your charges were getting out of hand. I had to do some knocking around,” Jaime offered, nodding at Gabby’s nose. If any of the girls wanted to refute his story, it would possibly end his life.
But none of them did.
“She is mine, no?” Jaime continued, hoping the fact Gabby was a gift meant he’d forgive him for the supposed violence that had shed blood.
The Stallion was staring oddly at Gabby, and it took everything in Jaime’s power not to step between them. In an obvious way. Instead he simply angled his body and hoped like hell it wasn’t obvious how much he wanted to protect her.
“Crying,” The Stallion said in a kind of wondering tone. “Well, I am impressed, Rodriguez. No one has ever gotten her to cry.”
Gabby flipped him the finger and Jaime nearly broke. Nearly ended it all right there.
“I trust our friend has told you that your sister will be joining us soon,” The Stallion said, watching her far too carefully no matter how Jaime tried to angle himself into the picture.
“And yet she isn’t here yet. Why is that?” Gabby returned in an equally conversational tone.
Jaime might have fallen in love with her right there.
The Stallion, however, snarled. “You’re lucky I don’t want to touch your disease-ridden body. But I have found someone who will. Take her away from me, Rodriguez. I don’t want to see that face until her sister is here. Make sure to lock her room once you’re done with her. She’s done with outside privileges.”
“And these?” Jaime managed to ask.
The Stallion snapped his fingers. “To your rooms. Don’t make me turn you into gifts, as well.”
The girls, even the instigator, scattered quickly.
The Stallion squinted at Gabby and maybe it was her unwillingness to cower or to jump that made her a target.
If Gabby cared about that, she didn’t show it. So Jaime took Gabby by the arms, as gently as he could while still appearing to be rough to The Stallion. “I will take good care of her, senor,” he said, donning his best evil smile.
“I’m glad you’re willing to soil yourself with this,” The Stallion said. “I should have had someone do this long ago. I don’t care what you have to do to make her cry. Just do it.”
Jaime gave a nod since he didn’t trust his voice. He nudged Gabby toward the hallway and she fought him on it, still staring at The Stallion.
“You’re a disgusting excuse for a human being. You aren’t a human being. You’re
a monster.” And then, apparently taking a page out of Alyssa’s book, she spit at him.
The Stallion scrambled away and then furiously scowled at Jaime.
“Are you going to let her get away with that?” he demanded, fury all but pumping out of him.
Oh, damn, Gabby and her mouth. How the hell was he going to get out of this one?
Chapter Eleven
Gabby had gone too far. She realized it a few seconds too late. She’d wanted to make sure The Stallion didn’t think she was happy to go with Jaime. She wanted The Stallion to think she hated Jaime as much as she hated him, and she didn’t know how to show it considering she didn’t hate Jaime even a little bit.
But she’d put Jaime in an impossible position. The Stallion expected Jaime to hurt her now. In front of him.
And how could he not?
Jaime’s jaw tightened and Gabby knew it wasn’t because he was getting ready to hurt her. It was because he didn’t want to and he was having a hard time figuring out how to avoid it. But he didn’t need to protect her.
She lifted her chin, hoping he would understand. “Hit me with your best shot, buddy,” she offered.
Much like when he’d come into the room, guns blazing, not using his accent at all, she gave him a little open-eyed glance that she hoped would clue him in.
He had to hit her. There was no choice. She understood that. She wouldn’t hold that against him. Besides, he’d pull the punch. It’d be fine.
He raised his hand and she had to close her eyes. She didn’t want the image in her head even if she knew he had to do it. She braced herself for the blow, but it never came.
Instead his fingers curled in her hair, a tight fist. Not comfortable, but still not painful, either.
“It appears you need to be taught some respect, senorita. Let’s go to your room where I can give you a thorough lesson. I teach best one-on-one.”
Gabby opened her eyes, ignoring the shaking in her body. She didn’t dare look at The Stallion—she didn’t want to know if he’d bought that ridiculous tactic or not. She couldn’t look at Jaime, because she didn’t want anything to give him or her away.