She shoved the barrel through the ring that held the wife’s mouth open. “Are you a good shot, Traquero? Maybe you’ll hit me at that distance. Maybe you won’t.” Her dark eyes blazed with ruthlessness, but flickering in the depths was a hint of desperation. “We both know I won’t miss.”
Josh’s heart died in his throat. Liv was gambling on Traquero’s caliber of bullet, his accuracy from thirty feet, and his level of duress. If he didn’t hit her with the first shot, chances were he’d kill her with the second.
The room stood still, waiting for Traquero’s response.
CHAPTER 31
Josh’s breathing shallowed. His heart knocked against his ribs. Every frenzied thought concentrated on the aim of Traquero’s gun.
The glow from the filmy bulb gilded Traquero’s distorted face in a putrid yellow. “Don’t shoot her.” He tipped the revolver’s nose down, just an inch. “Please.”
There was nothing shocking about a man begging for his wife’s life. Unless that man was Traquero. But Liv didn’t seem shocked. Somehow, she’d figured him out.
“Empty the gun. Toss it.”
She spoke as a Deliverer, a Mistress, a cold criminal. But that wasn’t who she was. No matter the mask, Josh had never wanted anything more than the courageous, reckless woman trapped beneath it.
Falling bullets plinked on the floor. Traquero chucked the revolver, and it clambered somewhere beyond the reach of light.
Holding her gun in the woman’s mouth, she removed her phone from her boot. Probably the same place she’d concealed her gun. “The referral.”
As he rattled off a phone number, she typed with her thumb and, given her subtle exhale, sent off the text.
“Don’t fucking move.” She stared at the screen, her gun hand unwavering. A moment later, she said, “Confirmed.”
Thus, securing the lives of her family. Her drive to protect was fierce. Josh wanted that same kind of protection for her. He wanted to be that for her.
She returned her phone to her boot and kept the gun aimed on the woman as she backed toward the door, her feet gliding smoothly and confidently. “I need a phone number for the delivery.”
Traquero stared at his wife like he wanted to run to her. “Maybe I want a different boy. One who doesn’t look at you like that.”
She stumbled and resumed her backward walk. “They all look at me like that. You’ll change your mind when the training is done.”
“We’ll see,” he said, absently.
There was no indecision in her need to get out of there. She held the door for Josh and quickly followed him out and to the car.
For five minutes, she drove, silent, eyes darting to the side mirror. Josh wanted her to fall apart the moment she hit the gas. He needed to see her, not the damned Deliverer. The stink of fear and sweat oscillated through the dark interior, but somehow she held it together.
His nerves stretched, and his pulse refused to slow down. He tried not think about the battered wife, the botched deal, or Traquero raping her from behind, but his thoughts surpassed turbulent. His hands ached in the wires. He wanted out of his chains. He needed to hold her. He felt so damned useless. “Liv? Talk to me.”
She turned off the road and followed a long dirt path through a thick cluster of trees. Deep within the grove, she stopped and turned off the engine, her eyes hidden by the moonless night.
Wrestling with the scarf, she untangled it from her hair and tossed it to the side. The screen on the phone in her hand awoke, casting a soft light over the dash as she knelt in the space between their seats.
A flash of pain sparked in her eyes. “I have to call Van.”
He clamped his teeth together. He knew she’d need to check in. The nightmare was never-ending.
She connected the call, her gaze watery and heartbreaking. She squinted at the screen, at Josh, then switched it to speaker and set it on the dash.
“Already talked with the referral.” Van’s voice prickled across his skin. “He wants a girl. The usual requirements.”
Kate was still at the house, waiting for her delivery day. So another girl would be ripped from her life. Dread clamped Josh’s stomach.
“I’ll leave in the morning,” Van said, blandly.
Leaving? A rush of possibilities jump-started Josh’s brain.
She touched his fists with trembling fingers and untwisted the wires. “I didn’t secure the deal.”
“What do you mean?” The question dripped from the phone, a slow ominous reverberation.
Her face paled in the screen’s dim light, her expression tight. “He wants a heterosexual boy to come for him on demand. It didn’t happen the way he wanted.”
“What the fuck did happen, Liv?”
She sucked in a sharp inhale. The wires loosened between their hands. Circulation rushed to Josh’s fingers in biting stings, but the sensation dulled with the rush of her next words.
“He fucked my ass, Van. Then he fucked me again by rejecting the deal.” She pulled the wire free and flung it at the back of the van, her teeth grinding so violently Josh could hear the enamel scraping.
The line went quiet for a heartbeat, two… The sound of shattered glass crashed through the speaker. “Goddammit, Liv. God fucking dammit.” Heavy exhales. “Get home. Now.”
She winced then recovered with squared shoulders. She unscrewed the quick links connecting Josh’s chains and paused on the last one. “The videos.”
“There won’t be any fucking videos.” The line went dead.
She ducked her chin, hiding her face. A surge of anger rocked Josh backward. He knew Van didn’t have any control over the videos or what would happen to their daughter, but the man sure as hell wasn’t putting his ass on the line to fight for her. Josh suspected he was more afraid of losing Liv and this fragile arrangement than anything else.
The chains fell off his chest and arms and
