“Eat!”
Sage looked up at the guy who spat the order at her and slipped him a curious stare. The kid needed a haircut and a shave. Hell, he needed to be out enjoying his summer break or flipping burgers so he could take his girl out this weekend. What the crap was he doing with a SIG P238 shoved in her face, wearing a glower that belonged on an asshole three times his age? And more importantly, why did she care?
Because her mind, now as drained as her body, was finally giving in to anguish.
Yeah, the pom poms were unraveling. Her desperate efforts to keep them glued together were failing with every passing minute. She felt her spirit paying the price, standing in a pile of torn hopes, shattered courage, and the stabbing shards of one undeniable truth.
The night had come. The guys hadn’t. The morning had come. The guys still hadn’t.
Now this goon-in-training was trying to tell her that refusing a roast beef sandwich was going to earn her a bullet in the skull. Seriously?
“Sage.” Josie’s voice came at her ear, still not wavering from its plane of reassuring calm. The woman had either popped a bottle of Quaaludes yesterday in place of tasting wine with them or she had nerves molded of steel. “You need to eat, sweetie. You didn’t have any breakfast.”
Sage stared back up at the gun. The hollow hole might as well have been a mirror. She felt just as black and empty. Fate had finally gotten her home, finally with Garrett again, and she’d wasted every second of the blessing. She’d spent the time playing head games with him, being so impatient to “fix” him that she’d missed the most important part of finding him again…of being a real submissive to him.
She’d never just loved him.
“Sage.” Josie’s prompt was more urgent in her ear. “Come on. A few bites. Keep up your strength. It’s actually not bad. Look, they even included dessert.”
“That’s not dessert.” Rayna grimaced into her chocolate pudding.
“Eat it!” The kid jabbed the SIG at her again.
Josie grabbed her wrist and squeezed. “Sage.”
She turned her weary smile at the woman. Josie’s optimism was amusing. And heartbreaking. “He’s not going to shoot me, Jo. He’s not going to shoot anyone. They just want us healthy and rosy when we get to Bangkok.” She dipped her gaze back to her feet. “Bony slaves don’t sell as well as plump ones.”
She felt Josie’s head-to-toe tremor. But the woman spat, stronger than ever, “That’s not going to happen.”
Sage looked away. Her soul was split down the middle. One side yearned to keep riding the rah-rah bandwagon with Josie, refusing to believe that every passing minute dragged them closer to the fate none of them would speak about. The other half screamed at her to wake up and smell the whole kettle of coffee before dumping its scalding truth over her head. Maybe then the burns would sink in. The pain would become part of her again. It was less torture once a tolerance was built up. She had to believe that. She had believed that, back in those days when sorrow was normal and hope a luxury. It had only been a couple of weeks since she’d left that darkness behind. Surely it couldn’t be that hard to acclimate to it all again.
Who the hell was she kidding?
She closed her eyes, wondering if she could dare remember heaven one more time. But there was no way she couldn’t. As soon as the word bloomed in her mind, Garrett did, too.
My heart. She felt the warmth of his murmur down her neck and rejoiced in the wings that opened in her heart in answer.
My hero. She heard the whisper as if she gave it to him once more and watched his sensual lips spread into a brilliant smile. His gaze ignited with that blue fire that adored her, desired her, claimed her. Hers. He was forever hers in their warm, wonderful paradise…
Until reality smashed a boot to her backside again.
Her gaze was jolted open as Junior lowered his foot, his face fixed in a vicious leer. He maintained his proximity, so his crotch took up at last half her view.
“Eat your lunch, slut, or I’ll give your mouth something else to do.”
Sometimes no reaction worked better than a nice huge eye roll. She bought into that threat less than she believed the twerp would shoot her. The crew had clearly been given orders to keep Josie, Rayna, and her in well-fed, pristine condition for their new overseas owners.
But who had given those orders? The blank behind that question mark remained strangely vacant, though Sage knew it wouldn’t stay that way. King’s stateside partner would slither out from under his rock eventually, if only to flaunt his triumph in orchestrating their recapture. When he did, she’d tell the bastard to find some men for his dirty work, not the last rejects from the Seattle boy band auditions.
With that thought as encouragement, she dug a toe under the plate in front of her and upended the whole thing at Junior. The guy yelled and used the F-word in at least four different ways as a slab of roast beef dropped off his crotch, leaving behind a streak of bright yellow as a souvenir.
Josie and Rayna broke into giggles. Their mirth turned to horror when the goon advanced on Sage, swinging his pistol into a wide backhand. Sage clenched her jaw and squared her shoulders, swearing she wouldn’t show this punk even a flinch of fear. She was the Hawk’s woman. Proving it right now became the sole object of her will and desire in her heart.
Nevertheless…this was going to hurt.
With a resounding thwack, a hand with long elegant fingers seized Junior’s wrist.
“Temper, temper.”
Like the hand, the intervening voice was smooth yet lethal. The words were spoken with unalterable command—and an accent where street boss collided with jungle dictator.
A whole tub of ice dumped into Sage’s chest. Her heart leapt from the freezing floe and begged her throat for sanctuary. But there would be no refuge from the fear now. No safety. No more hope. The fire Garrett had given her a minute ago was now doused as thoroughly as the memory that had brought it, wiped by the monster in front of them now. A yellowed smile parted his slick lips. Cavalier confidence defined his posture.
“Well, well, well,” the man drawled. “Hello again, bitches.”
No matter how deeply she wanted to pass out or how savagely she wanted to shiver, Sage’s first concern was for Rayna. Her friend saw something extra in King that was always beyond Sage’s scope, like an extra layer of evil only certain people could view. Since the scumsucker made her skin feel invaded by maggots, she had no idea what persecution it must be for Rayna. Like the cold predator he was, King picked up on every drop of her terror and never ceased to exploit it. Sage was certain that was why Rayna got picked for the special piercing back in Thailand.
It was why the scumsicle paced over to her now.
“My pretty kitty.” King cupped her chin with two fingers, using the hold to jerk up her head. “You are as lovely as I remember, Rayna. And I am not the only one who thinks so anymore, am I? Oh, no. I have listened to him talking to you, your big brave soldier boy.” He grinned wider and chuckled. “The glorious Zeke Hayes!” Rayna groaned and tried to wrench her face away, but King held fast. “Ohhh, little Ray-Ray, what is this? Tears for your Zekie? Well, I am not complaining. Those tears are very sexy.” He pulled her closer and licked his way up one side of her face. “And delicious.”
Josie’s Quaaludes picked a shitty time to wear off. The woman surged at King, a snarl turning her pixie features into demonic rage. “Leave her alone.”
King pivoted to Junior and grabbed the kid’s pistol. He swiveled the gun so the butt protruded from his fist, before slamming it into Jo’s jaw. Sage and Rayna cried out as Josie’s head whipped over and her body curled in pain. But the woman herself didn’t emit a sound. Sage gulped in silent admiration.