the idea—”
“They’d have helped me save you tonight.”
“They’ll drag you to jail with them.” She’d seen him on the corner and in the little Mexican take-out place in the shopping center, hanging out with a whole new group of friends who gave her insomnia. They were a rough bunch. While she believed Justin hadn’t done anything crazy yet, sometimes she thought it was only a matter of time before they convinced her soft-hearted brother that he needed the group’s “protection.” Or their cash. They flashed a lot of it. Was that what drew him? “Justin—”
“The cops want to ask you some questions. Wanted to know when you had your head on straight and were awake.” He huffed out a sigh without turning away from the window. “I’ll go tell them you’re back to your old self again.”
She huffed. The police hadn’t been any help so far. “I won’t talk to them.”
“Dani, you have to. They’ll find these guys so they don’t hurt you again. Somebody has to figure out why this happened.”
“Somebody has been zero help since the shop was hit by vandals. For whatever reason, the police aren’t doing anything. When they do talk to me, they treat me like I did something wrong. Tell them to go away.”
“I won’t.” He whipped around so fast his hair flopped across his forehead. “Somebody tried to kidnap you. Don’t you think that’s a little bit worse than tearing apart the store? You know what they keep talking about at school, warning the girls about? It’s not drugs these guys are after now. It’s pretty girls. Young girls. Wanna know why?”
“Stop it.” Nausea whirled in her stomach, overwhelming the pain with a fear that might take her out. If those guys were human traffickers...
Justin’s expression softened and he came back to her, resting his hand on her head again, the way their father had done when they were kids. “Help stop these guys. Make sure they don’t target somebody else, somebody who doesn’t have a hero willing to chase them down. One of them... One of them got away.”
“Then they can question the other one.”
His fingers tightened on her scalp. “The driver’s dead. He didn’t have an ID on him.”
Dead. It was a final, awful word, even for a man who had harmed her. “Who told you that?”
“The guy who saved your life.” His words bit off at the end. He was trying to bury his fear underneath anger.
Danielle’s eyes widened. “He’s here?”
“At the end of the hall in a huddle with a bunch of official-looking types. I think he’s a cop. Or something bigger. There’s some cowboy hats, boots, leather belts out there...”
Texas Rangers? They handled things the police wouldn’t touch.
Maybe that was what she needed. “I’ll talk to Colter Beckett. But only him. Nobody else comes in this room.” Something in his demeanor at the store had tugged at her, had said that despite the odd air about him, she could trust him.
And he had, after all, been the one to rescue her.
Justin headed for the door, then stopped at the entrance and hung his head. He glanced back at her, all traces of his earlier anger and frustration gone. “I’m glad you’re okay. If you weren’t...”
If she could get out of bed and go to him, she would. Even if he tried to pull away, she’d hug him hard enough to reassure both of them. “God’s got us, Justin.”
“Sure He does.” He was gone before she could say anything else.
Spent after trying to be strong for him, Danielle shut her eyes and let the weight of her head pull her into the pillow. All she wanted was to go home, but she hadn’t seen a doctor or a nurse to ask how long she’d be here.
A soft tap at the door opened her eyes again.
Colter Beckett stood there. Tall. Muscular. His brown eyes just as unreadable now as they had been in the shop. But the set of his jaw was a whole lot different.
Guarded. Cautious. Angry.
But at whom?
Stepping into the room, he shut the door and strode in with a defiant confidence he hadn’t carried earlier. He stopped at the foot of her bed and looked down at her as though he was holding back a whole lot of what he really wanted to say.
She suddenly wished she hadn’t let him in the room.
With practiced efficiency, he held out identification that included the familiar star-shaped badge of the Texas Rangers. “Ranger Colter Blackthorn. Who were those men?”
The abrupt question tensed her shoulders and raked across her already aching head. “I’m sorry?”
“Did you recognize either one of them? Have you seen them before? Anywhere?”
Danielle shook her head, her eyebrows furrowing and tugging on the bruise that was bound to be forming in her check and jaw. Something was wrong. The way he was looking at her, questioning her... It was exactly like the police had treated her when the shop was vandalized.
She wasn’t the victim in his mind.
Somehow, she was the criminal.
* * *
The barely controlled anger coursing through Colt wasn’t something he was used to. Looking down at the woman who was responsible for so much betrayal and death and pain... His fingers wrapped around the hard plastic at the foot of the bed and dug in, his jaw clenched so tight the tension radiated into his temples.
She had no right to look up at him with eyes so wide and frightened, tugging at his sympathy and making him want to ease up on his questions. He was starting to understand how Brent could have fallen for her manipulations. But he wouldn’t be that easily trapped.
He pulled a deep breath in through his nose and fixed his gaze on hers.
She shrunk further into herself. For half a second, he almost relented, but then he remembered who he was dealing with. A woman cold-blooded enough to kill for what she wanted, greedy enough to funnel drugs into the country without care for the harm she was doing.
Colt forced his jaw to work. “If I were you, I’d start talking now, Danielle.” Her name ground out on a wave of sarcasm so heavy, it nearly sank in the air. “We already have the warrant for your apartment. Your prints and DNA are being run as we speak, courtesy of that same warrant. You’re caught. It’s over.”
Her mouth opened, closed. Wide brown eyes narrowed, a deep V writing confusion between her eyes as she shook her head. “What is... I don’t...” She exhaled loudly and leaned her head back toward the ceiling, muttering something softly in Spanish. Colt picked up only a few words. Jesus. Help me.
Wow. She was a better actress than he’d thought. She’d have to be to fool Rio, who wasn’t known for being the trusting type. But appealing to Jesus? Colt hadn’t been on speaking terms with God in many years, but even he knew that was a low blow.
Still,
