He jerked back, stumbled. Oh, thank God. The beam of headlights illuminated a crimson stain at the center of his white shirt. He snapped his gun up, aimed at her, and fired.
The bullet whistled past her. She leapt on him. Took him to the ground. Landed on his chest, the knife slick in her grip, her heart beating at a dangerous velocity.
The buyer hit the ground beside them, one hand squeezing the flow of red at his throat, the other clawing through the dirt to grab her leg. His fingers caught her calf in a blood-slicked grip.
She jerked her leg free and stabbed downward, hitting the bodyguard’s chest. The blade sank an inch and stopped. The sternum? A rib? Shit, shit, she couldn’t push it in. He shoved her away, raised his gun.
A gunshot cracked from the brush.
The beige of his nylon hood turned red, seeping blood. The gun dropped, and his body slumped.
A ragged breath tore from her throat. She unlocked her limbs, shaking violently, and checked the pulse in his throat. Nothing. She scrambled toward the buyer.
He lay on his back, arms lolled to the side. She tore off his mask and stared into the lifeless eyes of a weathered face.
She sat back on her heels, removed her own mask, and choked on the copper-tainted fumes of death and defeat. Nausea gripped her insides. Her first seven captives had fattened Mr. E’s off-shore account, but they were free and their buyers dead. And her eighth captive— A sharp pain ripped in her chest. She inhaled deeply. Josh was safe.
Kate knelt a few feet away, curled over her thighs, shoulders trembling. Liv needed to go to her, but her legs wouldn’t move, the gravity of what came next weighing her down.
One more kill. In Van’s bed. Where he would find her dead and rotting and clutching her letter.
The stampede of foot falls crashed through the trees. A moment later, arms wrapped around her, Camila’s familiar spicy scent a temporary comfort.
“I’m sorry, Liv. We tried to get here in time.”
Shoes scuffed the rocky terrain around her, sounding the movements of young men gathering the dead and cleaning up the evidence. Young men she’d abducted, humiliated, whipped, and jacked off.
Killing herself would free them for good. It would also free Mom and Mattie. Mr. E would have no reason to harm them if she weren’t around to experience the horror of it.
She should’ve ended her life years ago, but Josh had been the push she needed. Releasing him back to his parents was the right thing to do. Perhaps it was his integrity that had given her the strength to be honorable.
She hugged Camila’s slim shoulders and dropped her face in the black silk of hair. “Don’t be sorry. You still managed to fire a kill shot. Thank you.”
Camila pulled back, shaking her beautiful round face, her eyebrows drawn in confusion. “We didn’t shoot anyone. We just got here.”
Her blood ran cold. “What do you mean?”
“Liv?” The deep accented voice behind her belonged to her second captive.
She pulled to her feet and came face to face with Ricky, who aimed a gun at a pair of pale green eyes. Eyes she never thought she’d see again. In his hand, dangled a Taurus PT-22 with a pink wood-grain grip.
CHAPTER 35
Six guns aimed at Josh’s head. Five men, one woman, all of them young, irrationally attractive, and glaring at him with fight in their eyes. He should’ve been scared shitless, but the cold blood settling around his heart suspended him in a state of shock.
He’d just killed a man. Even as he feared God and shunned evil, he knew without a doubt he’d do it again. For her.
Liv watched him, her eyebrows in a stark V, her complexion pale and splattered with blood. “Lower your guns.”
The weapons lowered, disappearing in waistbands and pockets. Her friends, whoever they were, shifted closer, forming a bulwark at her back.
The Latino woman opened her mouth, and Liv held up a finger, silencing her and glaring at him. “How did you find me?”
“You might call it a lucky break. I call it divine intervention.” He flicked the safety on the gun. “Why’d you leave this in the Honda?”
“So you could return it to your mom.” Her eyes flashed. “I did not expect you to use it in a reckless gunslinging rescue.” She spoke low, repeating her question. “How did you find me?”
He tucked the gun into his waistband at the base of his spine. “I left as soon as I woke. Got to the front of the neighborhood, and there you were, in the van, only a few blocks ahead of me.” God hadn’t abandoned him after all. “I followed you.”
Her lips pinched in a line. “I freed you.”
The woman at her side covered her mouth, eyes wide. “Oh my God. He’s that missing football player from Baylor.” Her head snapped to Liv. “He’s one of us?”
They were three hours from Baylor in the middle of nowhere. It was surreal that news of his disappearance had traveled that far. And what did she mean, one of us? His vision prodded through the nighttime shadows, searching the faces of her gun-toting, backup team. “Who are you?”
Liv pulled out her phone and squinted at the screen. “I have about twenty minutes before Mr. E wonders why my phone isn’t moving.” She blinked up. “Josh, this is Camila.”
Camila gave him a chin lift. “I was her first delivery.”
The hand of darkness seemed to lift from the trees, the stars singing together and the world crashing into place in a duh-faced moment. He took in their handsome features, their muscular builds, and their youth. Some were of Spanish descent, and they all fit the same desirable mold, including Kate. All seven of her captives. Here. Free.
All the signs had been there. She had never shown remorse over the fate of her captives, refused to talk about rescuing them, never veered from her plan to deliver Kate. And Van’s inability to attend the transactions made it all possible.
Camila gave Liv’s hand a squeeze. “Liv gutted my buyer the minute he sent the transaction. I screamed like a maniac, covered head to toe in his blood.” She half-laughed, half-groaned. “When she calmed me down, she told me her story. Her history with Van. Her Mom. Her daughter.” A sad smile touched her lips. “I refused to abandon her, so she let me dispose of the body and gave me an anonymous e-mail address. I sent a phone number there, one that couldn’t be traced to me. A year later, she called. That’s when I met Ricky.”
The man closest to him held out a hand. “Ricky. Slave number two.”
Josh accepted the handshake, awe-struck, his tongue not functioning.
Another guy flicked up three fingers. “Tomas. Number three. Her favorite.”
Someone coughed, “Bullshit.” Then each of the remaining men stepped forward, their names threading around him, pulling him into their huddle. Luke, the only redhead, number four. Martin, who had to drag his eyes from Liv, number five. Tate, huge smile, number six.
A familiar blond head emerged through the wall of men, her hands twisting in the front of her dress. She peered up at the strangers with a shell-shocked expression. “I’m…my name is Kate.” She stared at Liv, her lips parted and eyes wide. “Does this make me number seven?”
Liv moved to her and cupped her face, bending to meet her eyes. “You okay?”
With a jerky swallow, Kate raised her chin and nodded. “I’m still trying to catch up. I…I had no idea. I thought I was going with that man.” Another swallow. “I didn’t expect you to kill him. Have you ever lost a slave?”
A deep inhale billowed Liv’s breasts above the cups of her bra, and a quiver skipped over her arm. “No, Kate. We are all here.”
We. They were all free, yet Liv was still a prisoner.
Liv smoothed Kate’s hair from her face and spoke to her in a low, rushed tone about her mom and daughter, the significance of the other slaves being there to help her, and why she does what she does. The whispered conversation went back and forth for a moment longer, and Liv turned Kate toward Camila. “I trust them with my life, Kate. They’ll protect you with theirs.”
Camila embraced Kate in a hug. “Finally, a girl. And blond?” She glanced at Liv. “Still hunting in the border towns?”
“Until Josh.” Liv moved to the hood of the sedan and picked through the cash, weapons, and phones that had been gathered from the dead men’s pockets. “Kate’s buyer wanted blond and innocent. Took Van a year to find her in the southern slums.” She turned toward Kate. “Your brothers were protective of you, but they’re drug dealers, and they’re involved with some really bad people.”