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I looked around the now deserted street in desperation. Where the hell is everyone? There was no way I could pull myself free. The stranger’s hold was firm. And then there was the gun, of course.
Too scared to ask where he was taking me, I forced my feet to move. This was definitely not the time or place to fall apart.
A few minutes later, we stopped in front of the town hall, the biggest building in the small village. He nodded to two guys standing outside the big oak doors, machine guns held tightly in their hands. They didn’t even glance at me. I fought the urge to lose the contents of my bladder.
The doors opened, and he shoved me inside the building. There were more men with machine guns inside. Cold air hit me, and the sudden drop in temperature sent a shiver down my spine. He finally let me go, and I automatically put my arms around myself. Not that it provided much protection.
“Stay,” he barked at me before disappearing down the hall.
I calculated the distance to the doors and my chances of making it past the group of men that stood a few feet away. There was no way I would make it more than a few steps. Not only was I as slow as a turtle, but they also watched my every move. And they had guns.
“Esa es la chica.” My captor came back and pointed at me. Three more guys followed him. They were just as bulky, their expressions grim.
One of the men came forward until we were almost toe to toe. Too close. I took a step back, but his hand shot out and harshly grabbed my chin, forcing me to look at him. Golden eyes with green speckles greeted me. He resembled a lion, his steps light, his attention focused.
We were standing so close that I could make out every line on his face, down to the scar running over his eyebrow. His features were all sharp angles and high cheekbones. I had to blink to make sure my mind wasn’t playing tricks on me. He belonged on the cover of a magazine, not in the middle of the army that was now surrounding us.
His gaze was unrelenting as he studied my face, his hand never leaving my jaw. I was uncomfortable under his scrutiny, and my breath stuttered in and out in harsh gasps.
“What’s your name?” he asked. His accent threw me for a loop. He was American.
“Ev-Everleigh,” I stuttered, knowing I had to do something if I wanted to get away unscathed. “I don’t know what you think I’ve done. I’m an accountant who’s visiting the country. If you let me go, I’ll never mention this again.”
He studied me some more and muttered, “Bad timing.” Then turned and called, “Santino.”
The guy that had taken me from the restaurant appeared next to him. They looked formidable standing shoulder to shoulder, having the broody smolder down to an art form.
They murmured to each other, the guy with the mesmerizing eyes never taking his attention from me. His intensity was making me squirm. I held my hands together, only to release them again a second later. I pulled on my shirt and stepped from foot to foot.
I didn’t want to die. I wanted to be back in San Diego with Archer, watching awful movies and eating even worse food. I wanted to go out with my best friend, Thea, and make questionable decisions. I wanted to argue with our neighbor, who kept stealing my packages then pretended it wasn’t him.
“Come,” the guy named Santino barked, snapping me away from my happy place.
I was going to die in this little South American country, and nobody would know what had happened to me. Nobody would look for Archer.
“What are you going to do with me? I have money. If you let me go, I’ll pay you.”
They ignored me, Santino once again dragging me alongside him. We exited through a back door, and he threw me in the back seat of a black Escalade. Apparently, they’d take me somewhere else to do the deed.
I noticed more cars lined up in the courtyard, all exactly the same. The other men followed us out of the big building and climbed in the other vehicles.
The door slammed next to me, sealing me inside. Sealing my fate.
How would I be able to save my brother if I couldn’t even save myself?
2
LUCIUS
All I could see when I closed my eyes was her mahogany hair that hung in a silky waterfall down her back. All I could smell was vanilla and strawberries. A scent I’d usually avoid, but with her, I wanted to bury my nose in it. She could destroy everything.
Fuck. She was a complication I didn’t need. I had a plan. A mission. One that didn’t include a naïve American. If she knew what she’d stumbled into, she’d be running away screaming instead of watching everything as if this were the Discovery Channel.
And why was I so drawn to her? The nosy little waif currently staring at Santino with big blue eyes was nothing to me. Maybe the humidity and lack of sleep were getting to me. I’d been here nearly a year, and the strain was showing.
We went out to the waiting cars, and I watched her ass sway in her tight shorts. She wouldn’t make it long. She was too soft. Too innocent. And had no idea of the viper’s den she’d entered. And I didn’t know how I felt about that. Even though all I should have felt was emptiness.
Once she’d appeared on the boss’s radar, there was nothing I could do but bring her in. An American asking questions around these parts set off all sorts of warning bells.
