His body eclipsed the intensity of the burning white light. His shadow brought the chill back to her skin. Becca felt a finger across her cheek, and she flinched. His hand grabbed her chin and shook it. She blinked and forced her eyelids open to keep the image of the man in her brain.
'Come on. We only gave you a light dose. I don't have all night. And neither do you.'
His laughter jolted her awake. The man's face spiraled from the haze, coming to a screeching halt in front of her eyes. Matt Brogan. Becca pulled from his hand and shoved away, clumsy like a drunk on a weekend bender.
'You and me got some catching up to do.' He grinned. 'I know we don't hardly know each other, but I got a real nice surprise if you're good.'
'Wh . . . Where . . . this place.' She fought for each word.
'You don't need to know that. All you gotta do is ... be nice and do what I say. Then we can talk about my surprise. You like the roses I sent you? The Mex isn't the only one who can buy his way into your pants.'
His revelation jolted her brain. Brogan knew about her and Diego? That meant Cavanaugh did, too. Becca sucked air into her lungs to regain her senses. Diego was in trouble.
Before she could move, Brogan reached for her. In her dazed mind, his fingers undulated like a nest of slithering snakes. Becca jerked her head back, but he only laughed again and forced himself on her. Brogan's hand gripped her neck. When he had her attention, he let go and trailed down her body. He fondled her breasts with his fleshy hand. But when she raised her chin in defiance, without more of a reaction, Brogan pressed his luck and squeezed her nipple . . . hard. She gritted her teeth but didn't cry out. Becca had no intention of giving the man what he wanted.
'Oh, I can see you and me are gonna get along just fine.' He grinned, a sickening dead look in his eyes. 'I like a challenge. And
Becca let him grope her body through her clothes, staring him down as best she could. Nauseated, she wanted to throw up, but resisted the urge. Eventually, Brogan backed off, taking his short victory lap. He walked into the shadows with a swagger, chuckling under his breath. She knew she hadn't seen the last of him.
Becca's mind raced with how she would play this guy. Scenarios competed in her head. And as her brain cleared, she searched the room for any advantage. In the shadows, she saw movement. Dim lights glowed in the distance, but with her eyesight still blurred, she couldn't make anything out. She heard voices, men and women. And the rattle of chains clanged against metal and dragged heavy on the floor. Who were all these people? And why were they in the dark? And the smell . . . how could they live like this? She pictured a rabble of homeless street people living in a sewer.
But the sound that chilled her to the bone was the quietest of them all. Sobbing cries. Real agony festered bone deep like cancer. A vague whimper gained urgency. And Becca heard Brogan's gruff voice, cursing. Chains dragged along the ground, and a large shadowy shape lumbered toward her. A group or just one man, she had no idea. When Brogan came into the pale circle of light, he yanked at the arm of a thin girl. Her blond hair was matted and covered in filth, head down.
From what Becca remembered of Diego's investigation into Cavanaugh and human trafficking, she began to understand what she was witnessing, playing out before her eyes. This was what Diego and Draper had been searching for. Cavanaugh's elusive stronghold. The bastard held abused young girls against their will, degrading and sexually assaulting them for money, all in the name of business enterprise. Becca couldn't stand it anymore. She heaved the contents of her stomach, bracing her arms under her where she sat. Nausea came, wave after wave, until she ached with the exertion. She tasted raw bile in her throat and smelled it in her nostrils—along with a mounting fear for her own safety, wallowing deep in her belly.
When she looked up, Brogan stood over her, the sickly girl still at his side. Becca squinted into the light, the blonde's face coming into focus.
'I believe you two know each other.' Brogan grinned and shoved the girl to the floor in front of her.
Becca came face-to-face with the blond groveling on the floor. She appeared too damaged and beaten to look her in the eye. But when she did, Becca swallowed her heart. Eyes wide and jaw open in shock, Becca stared into the face of her sister, Danielle.
'Oh my God.' Every fiber of her being shook. 'Dani?'
Brogan laughed. 'What? You look like you seen a ghost.' His sickening cackle filled the chamber.
But Becca blocked him out to concentrate. Was this another hallucination? A cruel hoax? God wouldn't be so heartless. She wanted to believe that, but the delusion of the girl lingered amidst the carnage of this place, a persistent manifestation. With shaky fingers, she reached out to touch her gaunt face. In an instant, Becca knew. Her eyes brimmed with tears.
Dani's wide blue eyes stared back. Damaged and lost, but they belonged to her sister. Dirt smudges and tears streaked her sweet face. Her lips quivered, and she mouthed words Becca couldn't hear. She cradled Dani's cheeks in her trembling hands.
Everything around Becca faded to nothing. Her sister collapsed into her arms, still disoriented and confused by the whole encounter, unsure who Becca was but thankful for the tenderness. Her body rail-thin and fragile, Dani would break if Becca pressed too hard.
'Oh, God, Dani. . .' Becca cried, and clutched her little sister to her chest. 'Is it really you? Please, God. Oh, honey, is it you? It's Becca. Don't you recognize me?'
'Becca?' she whimpered, her voice raspy and spent. 'I thought I'd never . . .' She broke down, choked with emotion.
'Momma and I thought you were dead. The police found your blood in that motel room ... so much of it.'
'Momma?' Dani gripped her harder. 'Where's Momma?'
'She's . . . okay, honey. She misses you.' Becca could see Dani didn't comprehend it all. The motel room. The excessive blood, looking like a murder scene. Trying to explain would only confuse her more. But before Becca could reassure Dani, Brogan interrupted.
'The blood was my idea,' he boasted. 'We took it from her over a period of time, collected enough to fake a real slaughterhouse. Once the media got ahold of her credit card trail and the bloody motel room, things died down, and it was business as usual for us.'
'Us? This is Hunter Cavanaugh's organization, right?'
'Like you don't already know. Galvan has been feeding you intel for a while now. What's he gettin' in return, huh?' He yanked Danielle's hair and pulled her from Becca's arms. Her sister's cries tore open her gut.
Dani grimaced, her face twisted in pain. She had little strength to resist his manhandling. Not anymore.
'The other day when I heard you two were sisters, I knew a family reunion was the way to go. I'm kind of an old softy, like that,' he bragged, chest out.
'The other day . . . when you heard?' Becca asked.
Brogan hadn't let on he recognized her when she visited the Cavanaugh estate. He could have discovered her connection to Danielle only recently and put two and two together, but the man didn't look like he excelled at math. No, Matt Brogan had no appreciation for the subtlety of mind games. He came at you headfirst and shoulder down. Someone told him about it and helped him figure out the puzzle. Although she had her own thoughts on the subject, she wanted to keep Brogan talking. The more he yapped, the less likely he'd mess with Dani.
'Who told you about Danielle and me?'
'Let's just say an old friend thought I should know.'
Before Becca got her head wrapped around his answer, two men grabbed her from behind. They yanked her up to stand on wobbly legs. On the edge of the light, they pinned her against a railing. Becca heard the sound of duct tape, and her arms and legs were strapped to the metal bars.
'Don't tape her mouth.' Brogan grinned at Becca, giving an order to his men. 'I want to hear her scream when she sees what I'm gonna do.'
She watched in horror as Dani cowered at Brogan's feet, under the light. He stroked the girl's head and grinned, his face distorted by shadows like a grotesque mask. A gruesome stage play was about to be played out.
'Don't hurt her, you bastard!' Becca screamed, struggling to break free. 'I'll kill you!'
Anger sparked in her brain. She felt blood rush to her face, and stars spun across her eyes. In the dark, Becca raged with a survivor's instincts, protective of Danielle. She knew Brogan intended to play a game using her sister in
