Page 19 of Vengeance

"What is it?" Chloe asked.

He pointed to the map. "They knew."

"Knew what?" she asked.

"Our route,” Vengeance said. Chloe stared at the map. Every place they'd planned to stop was marked—every single one.

"They expected us,” she said.

"Yeah, they did,” he grumbled.

"How could they anticipate where we’d stop?” she asked.

"I don't know,” he said. "But I’m betting that somebody fed them information before we ever left Huntsville." The realization settled heavily between them. Bowie had been right to send them away, but whoever betrayed the Royal Bastards had known about the safe house before they ever left.

The old man cleared his throat. "There's something else." Neither of them looked away from the map. "The woman?—"

"What about her?" Vengeance asked.

"She said something strange.” He closed his eyes, as though he was trying to remember. "'Don't damage the merchandise.'" Chloe felt sick at the mention of her being someone’s merchandise. It was the same word that she had heard Dante call her when she was just a kid, and the Dragons took her.

"They don't see me as a person at all,” she breathed.

"No," Vengeance said quietly. "They never will."

She looked at him. "You know because?—”

His jaw clenched. "Because that's how traffickers think.” The certainty in his voice made her blood run cold. He wasn'tguessing—he knew. Before she could ask another question, headlights flashed across the underside of the bridge. It was a single pickup truck.

Vengeance immediately folded the map and shoved it into his saddle bag. "You were never here," he said to the old man.

The man nodded. "I understand."

He started toward the truck before stopping and looked back at Chloe. "Your daddy?—"

She swallowed. "Which one?"

A sad smile crossed his face. "The one you just buried." Tears immediately filled her eyes. "He must've been one hell of a man."

"He was,” she whispered.

The old man nodded once. "My granddaughter used to say—” His voice cracked. "That good men leave footprints long after they're gone." He climbed into his truck. "I reckon your daddy's still leaving them." As the pickup disappeared into the darkness, Chloe stood perfectly still. Savage had been gone less than forty-eight hours, and somehow, even now, he was still sending people to save her.

She wiped away a tear before turning toward Vengeance. He was already studying the map again. He was completely focused and guarded. She watched him for a long moment and then quietly asked the question that had been haunting her since Huntsville.

"Who are you really?" For the first time since they'd met, Vengeance looked like a man who knew that he couldn't hide from the truth much longer.

Vengeance

Who are you really? The question landed like a punch to the gut. Vengeance stared at Chloe across the dimly lit clearing beneath the bridge, wishing for the first time in years that lying came as easily as it had when he was a kid, but it didn't—not anymore. He'd spent too much of his life cleaning up the messes that lies created.

"I'm—" he started before stopping himself. Coward. He could face down armed men without breaking a sweat, but he couldn't answer one honest question from the woman standing in front of him. "I don't know how to answer that."

Chloe folded her arms. "You know your name, right?"

"I do,” he said.

"Then start there." God, she sounded so much like Bowie—stubborn, direct, and impossible to distract.