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We were safe—for now.

The SUV parked, and we jumped out of the car. I walked around to the other side to retrieve our new captive. I got the door open and yanked her out.

She almost fell to the concrete because her steps couldn’t keep up with me. She hissed under her breath at my ferocity but still didn’t say a word.

I gripped her by the back of the neck and escorted her inside. The other men removed their bulletproof vests and set their rifles down, the danger gone. Cane and the rest of the guys came in right behind us, a spring in their step from the victory.

“Fucker didn’t even see us coming.” Cane walked in and immediately poured himself a whiskey. “Fucking asshole. I shot him in the arm just to make him scream. It was awesome.”

The woman stood in the center of the room with her hands cuffed in front of her body. She watched all of us in detail, trying to find an escape route. She kept a cold look on her face, refusing to show any fear.

I unlocked her cuffs because there was no reason to keep her in chains. There was nowhere for her to run. Nowhere for her to hide. If she tried to escape, it would be an interesting spectacle.

When I came near her, she gave me a venomous look. If she had the chance to kill me, she would. There was no apprehension in her eyes. She loathed me, possibly loathed me more than her old master.

Like I gave a damn.

Cane downed his glass in a single gulp then wiped his lips with the back of his forearm. He stared at the woman with longing, his thoughts disappearing into his trousers. The other men stared at her as well, like she was the main course of a feast.

Cane pressed the back of his forefinger against her cheek and slowly dragged it down. “Wow. Aren’t you pretty?”

She slapped his wrist away instantly. “Get the fuck away from me.”

“Whoa,” Cane said in surprise. “This one’s feisty. After a raid, I usually like to unwind. I’m going to take a round with her.” He grabbed her by the wrist and pinned it behind her back. “See what Bones is so obsessed with.”

“Have fun.” I poured a glass of whiskey. “Let the boys have a go afterward.”

“I don’t know,” Cane said as he squeezed her. “I might be a while.” He turned around and marched her toward the bedroom.

Her breathing escalated, and she went into panic mode. She stomped her foot as hard as she could on Cane’s boot, making him scream out in pain and momentarily release her.

Then she grabbed his knife from his belt and immediately went for the soldier closest to her, slashing him across the chest with such ferocity she looked like an assassin.

The men scrambled for their guns, needing to put this bitch down before she did some serious damage.

One of the men jumped on her from behind and grabbed her by the wrist, but she head-butted him then flung his arm down, breaking it at the elbow. Her knife slashed him, making him bleed.

Damn.

She sprinted at full speed for the door.

Cane gripped his wound. “Fucking bitch. Get her!”

The men chased after her, disappearing down the hallway. Their shouts carried to us in the main sitting room. Even now, she was a handful.

“It’s a goddamn circus.” I slammed my glass down and joined the men, needing to saddle this wild bronco. I jogged through the hallway and followed the sound of their voices. A dead soldier lay on the ground from a stab wound to his chest. I kept going until I reached the entrance hall.

The woman tried opening the window, but it was locked. All of them were locked. The front door was bolted shut. The men tried to lunge at her when she got too close. They didn’t use their guns because we couldn’t kill her—yet.

I pushed through the men and reached the front of the mob. “Enough.”

Her eyes scanned the room, searching for something she missed. Desperation marked her face. She needed to leave but couldn’t find a route. Her eyes quickly turned to the knife, and I knew what her next thought was.

“Stop,” I ordered.

She grabbed the hilt and aimed the knife right at her heart.

“None of these men will touch you. I give you my word. Stop.”

She pressed the knife against the neckline of her dress. She lacked any ounce of hesitation. She accepted her death as an old friend. She wanted to leave. She wanted to bleed out and die. It probably sounded better than the alternative. “Like your word means anything to me.”

“It means the world.”

“You told me to never trust anyone.”

“I’m not asking you to.” I held up my hand then slowly lowered it. “Drop the knife. Come on.”

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