Jaden holds me effortlessly while he races through the solarium, down a long hall, and across the wide expanse of the library. My arm burns as if injected with acid that’s leaching through my veins and igniting each cell. I try to focus on the solid warmth from his broad chest, but it takes every thread of self-control not to scream. I know pain. This is agony. This is how Viper rules—with pain and fear. The day I met him, he brought me to my knees—brutally. He might ruin my body, but he will never own my essence. It’s mine.

I barely notice as we get on a hidden elevator and descend into the bowels of Jaden’s mountain. Okay, I may be exaggerating a tad, but it really does seem a long way down when my arm is a blazing inferno. The doors open into a large cave. Jaden carries me through a large room into another that looks like an infirmary. He set me on the gurney. I curl into a ball, clutching my shoulder. A long, unending fuuuuuuccccckkkkk screams through my brain.

Jaden clamps down on my bicep and pulls my hand away from the offending shoulder. I moan and thrash.

“Rayne. You need to keep still. I need to get this out now. They can’t find us here. You’re safe.” His voice takes on an authoritative tone. No nonsense. Yet something about it cuts through the fog of pain and makes me feel cared for. I groan something incoherent in reply. I don’t know what the hell I’m trying to say.

“I’ll take that as consent.” He turns away and loads a syringe. “This is a local anesthetic. We don’t have time to wait for it to take full effect, but it’ll help minimize the pain. I’m going to cut out the chip. This first cut’s going to hurt. I need you to keep still.” He picks up scissors and cuts away the sleeve of my T-shirt.

As he talks, Jaden plunges the contents of the syringe into several spots on my shoulder. I close my eyes and nod. At least, I hope I nod. I must have because I hear the snap of gloves before he grips my arm again.

“I’m going to make a small incision. Keep very still.”

I groan, grinding my teeth as he makes the cut. Tears leak out, but, goddammit, I stay still. Something about him makes me want to show him my best. And besides, it gives me something new to focus on.

The freezing starts to take effect, enough so I relax my arm a little. Slowly, I let out a deep breath and try to chill against the hard mattress. Jaden grabs some instrument that looks like a cross between tweezers and tongs and plunges the tip into my arm. But instead of looking at my wound, he gazes off into the distance. Hey, buddy, watch what you’re doing. Following his gaze, I see my shoulder outlined on a large monitor. Cool! Jaden carefully maneuvers the twongs toward a small white patch. He closes the ends around the patch and slowly withdraws it. Then, he smiles.

“Got it.”

“That’s so cool.” The throbbing in my arm drops to a dull hum. It bleeds, but I couldn’t care less at the moment. Maybe it’s the pot. Or something he snuck into the injection? I drag my mind back from the gutter. Why do I think the worst of everyone, anyway? Because . . .

Across the room, Jaden drops the patch into some kind of small cylinder. He puts the cylinder in what looks like a mechanical spider, slides it into a large tunnel, and lets it loose. He crosses back to the gurney and snaps on a fresh pair of gloves.

“Okay. Let’s get you stitched up. First, let’s give you a little top-up for the pain.” His rich baritone voice is ripe with overtones as he gives me another injection, this time in my ass. I coast on the pleasure wave of his voice as he talks me through what he’s doing while he stitches. That voice alone . . .

What the hell is wrong with me? Here I am alone in the Batcave with some random stranger—albeit a very hot stranger—who is a hacker and somehow associated with human trafficking, and all I can do is drool over his perfection and the fact that he’s touching my arm. All right, all right; so he’s sewing my arm, but there’s delicious skin contact where it isn’t numb from the freezing.

Oh God, can I really be this shallow? Yes. I sigh inwardly, determined to become a better person . . . as soon as I get out of this latest fix. Jaden expertly threads more catgut through a bent needle. At least that’s what they always call stitching thread in the movies. And right now, everything about this reminds me of the movies. It’s totally surreal. Like, we’re in a modern-day Batcave filled with all kinds of high-tech gadgets. Who lives like this?

“What is that thing? A drone? Where’s it going? Where are we?”

“Keep still.” Jaden’s voice sounds forbidding, but I’m sure a quirk of a smile tugs at the corners of those gorgeous lips. You’re losing it, girlfriend. I’ve let this man cut me, drug me, and basically manhandle me. He could hurt me . . . badly. And I’m mooning over the way his tight butt fills out his jeans. As Jaden stitches, I’m mesmerized, studying his small, precise movements. The only sound is our breathing and the dull hum of the equipment.

“That thing, as you call it, is a drone. It’s going on a long trip.” He stays silent as he ties the knot in the last stitch. “All done.” He bandages my arm. “We’re in my lab.”

“How will you get it back?”

“I probably won’t, especially if Viper finds it. That’s the plan.”

Jaden places his hand on my back. I jolt as pain shoots through my torso.

“Are you in pain?”

I shake my head, careful not to look at him.

“Rayne.” With that one word, his tone changes from sunlight to a little bit of storm cloud. I shake off his hand.

“Okay, okay. Yes, it hurts. It usually does. Don’t they say day two is always the worst?”

Jaden smiles a bit. “Actually, it’s day three or four that’s the worst. Come on, let’s have a look.”

He has his nerve. Probably just an excuse to cop a feel. I carefully wrap my arms around my torso. “I’m just fine.”

Jaden gives me a gentle poke in the right kidney, and I double over, huffing air.

“As I thought. Now, let’s have a look.” He helps me straighten before sliding up my T-shirt to survey the damage. He winces as he examines my chest and abdomen. I’ve got deep bruising covering from ribs to waist. Viper laid a beating on me but there’s no way I’ll let the pain get in my way.

“Let’s have a look at the rest of you.” Jaden gestures to my pants and steps back giving me space.

I reluctantly take off my pants. The undies stay on. Belt welts pepper my buttocks and thighs. Jaden looks grim.

“We’ll need an X-ray of those ribs.”

“I’m fine.”

“Any blood in your urine? You didn’t answer me when I asked earlier, but it’s important.” He performs a thorough exam while I debate how much to tell him.

“All reflexes are in working order, and if you don’t have a cracked rib, then the kidney is the only concern. On a scale of one to ten, how bad is the pain?”

I wave my hand and try to act nonchalant. “I told you, I’m fine.”

Jaden give me his “look,” the one that makes me want to open my mouth and spill. “You keep saying that, but it doesn’t answer my question.”

“Okay, some, but I’ll heal. Are we done?”

He says nothing as he helps me off the gurney and leads me into an adjoining room fully equipped with an X-ray and ultrasound machine. He takes the X-ray and examines the film.

“Just as I thought, you have a cracked rib. Here, have a look.” He points to the crack on the X-ray. “I imagine this hurts every time you take a deep breath.”

It hurts every time I take any breath, but I’ll probably never admit to that. Show no weakness.

“You’ll be much more comfortable once we’ve taped it.”

I stand tense and miserable at Jaden’s side. What the hell is wrong with me?

“Who is we?” My tone reminds me of a cornered rat about to strike.

Jaden lifts an eyebrow.

“It’s just that you medical people and restaurant staff use the royal ‘we’ as if you were part of the Windsor family. Either you’re taping my ribs, or I am. We aren’t.” Belligerent is the term that springs to mind at that tone.

He picks up the roll of KT Tape, then stands quietly, waiting for me to stop my manic fidgeting. Eventually, I stop and looks at him.

“What?”

“I still need to tape your ribs.” He cuts a few long strips of tape and adhere them to the edge of the gurney. He points to my chest. I lift the remains of my T-shirt and raise my arms. Hard nipples dare Jaden to ignore them.

I’m quiet except for a couple of sharply drawn in breaths while Jaden secures the ribs against further injury.

“Keep an eye on that kidney. Tell me immediately if you notice any change in your urine output, particularly if the blood increases.” He finishes with the taping. I frantically reach for my clothes as if they’re the shield that will save me from the shaft of his arrow.

I rest quietly while Jaden tidies up. I let a stream of euphoria run through me. Suddenly, all I can think of is finding out more about this guy. “This place is so cool. It’s like the Batcave. Do you have a Batmobile?” Even in my drug-induced haze, I know these are stupid questions, but I can’t help myself. I’ve always been drawn to trivial detail, but I’ve learned to keep that wee fact to myself.

Jaden actually grins, and a Chinook melts the ice fortress I keep around me. “The original Batmobile was a 1939 Cadillac. The series used a Lincoln Futura. The Tim Burton movies used a Chevy Impala chassis.“

“Yeah, well the Tumbler isn’t built on an existing chassis at all. And it’s more like a tank.”

“Uh-huh, but it can’t take on my Bugatti Chiron.” I can almost see his colorful feathers fluff with pride as he makes this pronouncement. I’d be Googling that car first chance I got.

“Are you a car nut or something?” I ask. He’s obviously a Batman trivia nut.

“Not really. I like a good car, but I collect knives and dragons.”

“Why knives?”

“Why not?”

This drives me absolutely batshit crazy about this guy. He never gives a straight answer. Ever! He throws me one of his T-shirts and moves to help me, but I wave him away. I do my best to get it on without moving my shoulder. Fat chance. The freezing is coming out, and it hurts like hell.

I jump off the gurney. The impact sends a jolt of pain through my shoulder and back. Shit. I gingerly use my good arm to anchor my forearm, trying not to rip out the stitches.

“Take it easy with that for a few days until things heal. You’ll make a full recovery.” Jaden gives the back of my neck a gentle squeeze.

Sweet Jesus. I’ve died and gone to heaven. I should probably give some serious thought to what draws me to this strange man, but I have plenty of time for that. Do you now? What about Summer? What about Viper? I push the nagging thoughts into the room that houses all the rest of my unpleasant—and practical—thoughts and slam the door. Tight. Time enough for real life later. When Viper and his goons are good and gone.

“How come you know how to use all this stuff? Why do you know so much about medicine?”

The humor instantly dies, and Jaden’s face goes rigid, like a marble statue. He busies himself cleaning up the surgical trays. Oh oh. I roam around the infirmary, taking a mental inventory. He says nothing. I debate taking one of the scalpels and decide against it. I’d probably cut myself. He takes no notice. When I can’t stand it any longer, I turn to face him. His face is a mask of inscrutability. This man seems to be hiding behind one huge pile of shit, maybe even larger than my own.

I stare at him, somehow managing to keep my mouth shut. Curiosity overruns my shattered nerves, as does my innate sense of fairness. What’s good for the goose and all that.

I follow Jaden into the computer room. He takes a look at the monitors and puffs out a breath. I lean over his shoulder. Viper’s goons roam around the house, guns out. Jaden studies the monitors as they search each room.

“I suppose as long as we’re going to have to stay down here for a while, we might as well get comfortable.” He strides out without looking back. After a second’s hesitation, I scurry after him.

“Won’t they find us?”

“No.”

Geez. Talk much? “How come?”

“It’s a safe room.” Jaden’s tone ends the conversation as if that explains everything.

The lab is vast, just like the rest of his compound. Every few steps, I have to run to keep up with him. We move from a long hallway into a large room that looks like an open-concept bachelor apartment. Jaden waves toward a large sectional couch. “Make yourself comfortable.”

I stop a minute to catch my breath. I want to pump him for information but refuse to pester him like a child. I will be calm, cool, and classy, just like Beyoncé. The urge to find out more wars with my vow to be a lady of class. Melissa McCarthy wins and jumps out of my goddamned mouth.

“So, are you going to stand there and treat me like I’m some kind of moron?”

His head whips around to look at me, a scowl of thunderclouds marring that perfectly sculpted face. I’m sure this is “the look” designed to scare me off. I’ve faced down worse than this, although living to tell the tale often included multiple bruises or what he calls contusions. I raise what I hope is a dainty but determined eyebrow. Amber eyes meet my chestnuts, and the battle ensues. I’m just about to take a breath and back down.

“I’m a doctor. There. Happy now?” He walks over to the fridge, grabs a carton of juice, and drinks straight from the spout before holding it in my direction. His eyebrow crooks in question.

“No thanks. What kind of doctor?” I kneel on the sectional, facing him, and cross my arms over the back.

He shrugs and puts the juice back in the fridge. “ER.” His words are short and clipped. Every nerve in his body shouts “intruder alert.”

“So why did you tell me you’re a hacker if you’re a doctor? Wouldn’t you make better money as a doctor?”

Jaden traces his gaze over all his expensive stuff and quirks that damned eyebrow again. Okay, maybe not.

“When did you quit?” I just can’t let it go.

“When they took Savannah.”

I hold my breath. Shut up, Rayne. Don’t say it . . . Don’t say it. We are about to have a moment.

“And you think Viper killed her?”