The Protected

No child should be put through that. No person should be put through that.

If Vaughnne had to compromise herself, risk herself, land herself in jail . . . worse . . . whatever, to save a kid from that kind of hell, then so be it. She knew what she was doing, and even if it was a hard-ass choice to make, she knew what the right choice was.

Sometimes, the right choice was just the lesser of two evils, but she knew what she had to do.

One thing lifted some of the weight from her shoulders, though. She’d checked that awful website. It still existed, sadly. But the ad for the infamous item was no longer up.

Hopefully nobody else would come hunting them. They didn’t have time—

“Why are you so tense?”

Gus’s voice was a soft, velvet murmur in the night, but it did nothing to ease her ragged nerves. She felt like she’d chugged about two gallons of Monster and her adrenaline levels were cranked up on high. It wasn’t even just what she was doing. Her brain had been sending out little warnings all day long, and the later it got, the louder those warnings got.

Looking over at him, she shook her head and then focused on the windshield again, staring out at the moon-drenched night. “Something’s wrong. Or going wrong. I don’t know. How far away are we?”

“Twenty minutes by car. I’d planned to ditch it and walk in.”

“No.” The word tore out of her, and even though she suspected he knew this sort of thing a hell of a lot better than she did, there was no time for walking.

“If we drive in, he’s going to know,” Gus said quietly.

“We don’t have time. Something is wrong. I feel it, Gus. Really, really wrong.”

His hands tightened on the steering wheel. “Alex?”

Vaughnne shook her head. “It’s not him.” She’d already checked with Taige. The kid was safe, safe as he could be, tucked up at headquarters, and the other woman had already made headway getting him to shield himself, and that right there would make him less of a target.

“It’s not him,” she said again. Her gut was tight, cold, and hard. Her muscles, though, despite the fear, felt oddly loose and that, in and of itself, was enough to make her trepidation soar even higher. Everything in her was braced and ready for trouble. “We can’t take our time right now, Gus. Please. You . . .” She blew out a breath and then looked over at him. “You have to trust me on this.”

* * *

IF she was wrong and they blasted in there the way she seemed to want, they were both going to be in so much trouble.

Gus was used to trouble. He could handle it.

But risking her wasn’t an option he wanted to take.

He wanted to get her out of this alive.

If she was right . . . what had her so worried? Who had her so worried?

In the end, though, he supposed it didn’t matter.

They were here.

They had a goal.

And Vaughnne was a woman he’d decided he needed to trust. Perhaps if he’d trusted her, as she’d asked him to do from that day on the street when Alex was so ill, some of this, perhaps all of it, could have been avoided.

Please . . . you must promise me . . .

Consuelo had whispered those words to him, a few short years ago. An eternity ago. A lifetime ago.

Keep him safe. No matter what it takes, mi hermano, you must keep him safe from his father . . . starting now.

So he had. He’d started then, doing the very thing that would keep Reyes from finding them. Doing everything he had to keep the monster from tracking them down.

“He must die,” Gus said quietly as he continued to speed through the night instead of pulling the car over. He passed by the area where he’d planned to ditch the car. They continued to drive through the night, chasing the moon. “No matter who is there, what is there, no matter what happens, he must die. It is the only way Alex will be safe.”

“I know.”

* * *

BRUISES were expected.

The cable ties around her wrists and ankles were expected.

Even the brutal backhand was expected.

Nalini blinked the cobwebs from her mind and focused on the man in front of her just as he was drawing back his fist again. Pain exploded through her face as he struck her again, but she swallowed back any sound she might have made. Head averted, she sucked in a breath and ran her tongue over her teeth, checked her jaw. Nothing felt broken.

She wiggled her wrists, but there was absolutely no give in the restraints. No give in the restraints, and she didn’t have a lot of options around her, either. They’d moved her at some point. She didn’t like the looks of the small, dark room she was in, either.

For some reason, it made her think of a coffin. Or a grave.

A place where she was going to die, she realized. Die, restrained to a stupid chair with a couple of cable ties, all because she hadn’t gotten the hell out of there fast enough.

Damn, what she wouldn’t give to be a bad-ass bitch like Black Widow just then. Just bust up the chair and bust up the bastard in front of her while she was at it. Wasn’t going to happen that way, though. She was going to die here, and she wasn’t going to see her mission through. The son of a bitch she’d been chasing for so long was going to get by unscathed for what he’d done. Ignacio was going to survive this. They all were. Everybody but—

“Look at me, puta.”

Slowly, she swung her head around and stared at Ignacio’s right-hand man. His name was Jorge. He was mean as a snake, and although he pretended otherwise, he was too smart. He was also wearing a pair of gloves. That was a problem. If there was skin contact for even a second . . .

Through her lashes, she stared at him for a minute, holding her breath, hoping he’d edge close enough.

But he was careful, keeping just enough distance between them that she couldn’t wiggle around to touch him, not even a bit.

“The senor says I can do whatever I want with you now,” Jorge said, smiling at her.

“Whatever?” She doubted that. She suspected Ignacio had figured out how she worked and he wasn’t going to risk having her pull Jorge in. She licked her split lip, the taste of blood a metallic wash on her tongue. “He said you can do whatever to me and you decided you were going to just hit me?” She laughed and tugged at her bonds. “He told you to beat the shit out of me, didn’t he?”

He shot out a hand, fisting it in her shirt.

“You stupid little bitch. I’m going to have a lot of fun with you, you know that?”

“This?” Despite how much it hurt, Nalini made herself laugh. “This is how you have fun? Whoever taught you about women seriously neglected their lessons, hijo de la chingada.”

His face went red.

Nalini just smiled, keeping her mask in place.

His hand shot up to her face and squeezed, squeezed . . .

Through the pain, she tried to focus. So hard to do it. His gloves. Damn the gloves. No skin-to-skin contact.

“That’s enough for now, Jorge. I want to ask her some questions.”

With blood pounding in her ears, fear cloying in her throat, Nalini sucked in a breath as Jorge’s hand fell away from her face. Turning her head, she stared at Ignacio as he appeared in the doorway of the dim room. The star-studded sky was at his back, the moon shining down on his black hair, casting his face in shadow.

Then he came inside, shutting the door at his back.