stared hard at the man. “One time a guard tried to touch my chest and I knocked his tooth out.”
The man’s full mouth curved a little at that, something so close to humor in his expression it hurt. Humor. She missed...laughing. For no reason. Smiling, just because it was a nice day with a blue sky.
But she couldn’t think about all the things she missed or her heart would stop beating.
“What happened to the guard?”
Gabby shrugged, hugging herself against all this feeling. Thoughts about laughter, about the sky, about using her mind to put the pieces of the puzzle together again.
You gave that up. You’ve accepted your fate.
But had she, really, when the fight came so easily and quickly?
“I don’t know. I never saw him again.”
“Was it only the one time?”
Gabby considered how much information she wanted to give a stranger who might be just as evil as the man who held her captive. She could help him boot The Stallion out...and then get nothing for her trouble. She wasn’t sure if she preferred to take the risk. The devil you knew and all that.
But there was something about this man... He didn’t fit. Nothing about his demeanor or mannerisms or his questions fit the past eight years of her experience. What exactly would be the harm in telling him what she knew? What would The Stallion do? He’d been the one to leave her with this man.
“As far as I know, they can knock us around as long as they don’t break anything or touch our faces. If they go overboard, or get sexual, they disappear.”
The man raised an eyebrow. “How many have disappeared?”
Gabby shrugged, still holding herself. “It was more in the beginning. Five the first year. Three the second. Only one in the third. Then five again the fourth. Two the fifth, then none since.”
Both his eyebrows raised at this point, his eyes widening in surprise. “You remember it that specifically?”
Part of her wanted to brag about all the things she remembered. All the specifics she had locked away in her brain. All the patterns she’d put together. None of the girls had ever appreciated them. She had a feeling this man would.
But it would be showing her hand a little too easily for comfort. “Not a lot to think about in this place. I remember some things.”
“Tell me,” he said, taking another one of those steps toward her that made her want to cower or run away to whatever corner she could find. But she stood her ground and she shook her head.
If she told him, it would be in her own time, when she thought telling might work in her favor in some way.
He stood there, opposite her, studying her face as though he could figure out how to get her to talk if he simply looked hard enough.
So she looked right back, trying to determine something about him.
He had a sharp nose and angular cheekbones, a strong jaw covered liberally with short, black whiskers. His eyes looked much less black close up, a variety of browns melding to the black pupil at the center.
He had broad shoulders and narrow hips and even the array of weapons strapped to him didn’t detract from the sexy way he was built. Sexy. Such an odd thing. She hadn’t thought about sex or attractiveness or much of anything in that vein for eight long years.
She didn’t know if she was glad she could still see it and recognize it or if it just made everything more complicated. Far more lonely.
The eerie click of a lock interrupted the moment and he looked back at the door, then at her. His expression was grave.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” he whispered. “But this may scare you a little bit. That’s okay. Fight back.”
“Fight ba—”
He reached out and grabbed her by the shirt with both large hands. She screeched, but he had her shirt ripped in two before she landed the first punch.
* * *
JAIME PRETENDED TO laugh as Gabby pounded at him. He glanced at The Stallion, doing his best to stand between the man and his view of Gabby. He’d tried not to look himself, but he needed the illusion of a fight. A sexual one.
He couldn’t let his disgust at that show. “Senor?” The Stallion always got some bizarre thrill when Jaime called him that, so he’d done it with increasing regularity. Being the egomaniac that he was, The Stallion never got tired of it. “An hour, no?”
“I’m sorry to interrupt, but I need you immediately. Your hour will have to wait.”
Jaime scowled. He didn’t have to fake it, either. He wanted more information from Gabriella. If the woman had remembered how many guards were dismissed every year...who knew what other kind of information she might have.
Jaime inclined his head as if he agreed, though he didn’t at all. He wanted to get information out of Gabriella as soon as possible. The more he got and the sooner he got it, the less he’d have to do for The Stallion.
He gave her a fleeting glance. Those big, dark eyes were edged with fury, and she crossed her arms over her chest. The bra she wore was ill-fitting and he couldn’t help but notice the way her breasts spilled over the fabric even under her crossed arms.
He quickly looked back at The Stallion. He handed Gabriella the remains of her shirt. “Perdón,” he offered, making sure he didn’t sound sorry in the least.
The Stallion chuckled as Jaime walked to meet him at the door. “You could be so much better at your job if you weren’t so easily distracted,” the man said, clapping him on the shoulder in an almost fatherly manner as he pulled the door closed, leaving Gabby alone in the room.
He didn’t lock the door this time and Jaime was surprised at how much freedom he allowed the women he kept there. Of course, the front and back doors were chained and locked even when The Stallion was inside, and all the windows were boarded up in a permanent, meticulous manner.
There were no phones in the house, no computers. Absolutely no technology of any kind aside from kitchen appliances. But even that was relegated to a microwave and a refrigerator. No stove and no knives beyond dull butter ones.
He wondered if the women inside knew that only a couple of yards away, in a decent-size shed, The Stallion kept all the things he denied the women. Computers and phones and an array of weapons, which was where The Stallion was leading Jaime now.
“We have a situation I want you briefed on. Then you may go back to our Gabriella and finish your...” He trailed off and shook his head as he locked and chained the back door they’d exited into an overgrown backyard. “Sex is such a base instinct, Rodriguez. Women are a worthless expense of energy. I’m fifty-three, for over half my life I have searched for the perfect woman and failed time and time again. Though, I will admit the women I’ve kept are of exceptional quality. Just not quite there...”
The man got a far-off look on his face as they walked through the long grass toward
