She was staring up at the terrifying visage of her imminent death, a silent scream stretching her lips. She reached out to push him away, but her arms were too weak. She sobbed but the tears wouldn’t come. She was too parched; there was nothing left in her to cry but dust.

“Lucy,” DeLuca said sharply. “Where is Maria?”

She shook her head and tried to roll away from him. He gripped her chin hard and forced her face up to his. She could hear someone bellowing in the background and tried to roll her eyes up to see what was happening above her. Everything was dark, and particles of dirt were raining down all around them. Her dress was torn and dirty.

“Speak now, Lucy Miller, and I might let you live,” he hissed down at her. “Where the fuck is my woman?”

Lucy sucked in a panicked breath and tried to force her oxygen starved brain to function. She closed her eyes and thought hard. She could remember being slapped. She reached up with shaking fingers and touched her forehead then winced at the pain. DeLuca shook her impatiently.

“T-trying to remember,” she whispered and opened pleading eyes.

He nodded sharply.

She could remember the bar and having some drinks with a woman that she’d only met that night. A lovely, vivacious woman. Very smart. Maria had saved Lucy’s life. Convinced the Mexicans not to shoot her on the tarmac.

“An airplane,” Lucy told him. “Th-they took her on an airplane.”

“Where?” he demanded, his hands tightening on her arms.

“I don’t know!” she cried out softly, wanting to help him. “They didn’t say.”

He gritted his teeth and dropped his head against hers, his dark hair brushing her forehead. The move wasn’t comforting though. Not even close. It was utterly chilling. As though he were, in fact, the harbinger of Lucy’s death. Lucy felt, in that moment, as though she were closer to her own demise now, than she had been when she was trapped in the fridge.

DeLuca lifted his head, his dark eyes meeting hers. She saw nothing in his expression. Nothing on his harsh face. Absolutely nothing. He felt nothing for her; no pity, not a flicker of empathy. He probably felt nothing for anyone but Maria. And god help anyone that touched that woman.

“She said it was her blackmailer,” Lucy whispered suddenly, the memory finally swimming to the surface. “She said the name… Ronson.”

DeLuca stiffened above her, his dark eyes boring into hers as though they could tear through her skull and rip the information he wanted right out. Then, finally, an emotion lit his expression. A terrible rage unlike anything Lucy had ever seen before or wanted to see again. Her heart pounded in terror and she couldn’t so much as swallow until he shuttered the look, saving it for those that took Maria from him.

“Thank you, Lucy,” he said quietly, his voice no less sinister. He continued to hold her, his gaze roving over her face and body. His perusal was entirely impersonal and chilled her to the bone. Finally, he touched her face. Long fingers brushing the hair from her forehead and cheeks gently, as though he cared for her well-being. They both knew he didn’t. When he spoke again, his voice was low and brutal, for her ears alone. “If anything happens to her, I will be coming back for you, Lucy. You were instrumental in her disappearance tonight and I cannot tolerate…” He couldn’t seem to finish the sentence as he imagined something awful happening to his beloved.

The breath left Lucy’s body and she nodded. He would come back and kill her himself if Maria was harmed. He would kill anyone and everyone involved in Maria’s disappearance. DeLuca stood and climbed out of the hole leaving Lucy behind. He had no further use for her. He’d gained what he needed and made his point. He strode away from the scene, his men following suit, dumping Mack in the dirt with a warning not to get up until they were gone.

Lucy folded in on herself, curling onto her side and hugging her head into her chest, sobs cresting as she waited for the one person she wanted most to come for her. And then he was there. He’d ignored the threat from DeLuca’s men and slid into the hole, right on top of her. She could feel his heat enveloping her, his familiar scent wrapping all around her. She cried harder as he cradled her against his broad chest, tucking her head under his chin and rocking her.

“I got you now, baby girl,” he murmured, holding her tight while her tears spilled over.

He rocked her against him until her sobs finally subsided and she lay weakly against him. It was then that she felt the dampness against the top of her head and realized that had been crying with her. Her broken bounty hunter, the hardest man she knew, was crying for her. Lucy wanted to process that thought, to figure out what it meant, but the horror of the past few hours combined with DeLuca’s threat was overwhelming her. She blinked away more tears and pushed at Mack’s chest.

“C-can we go now,” she whispered brokenly. “Please, Mack. I can’t stand it in here anymore.”

“Of course, baby,” he said right away and stood with her held tight in his arms.

Someone reached down to take her from Mack, but he growled a vicious warning that vibrated through his chest and into her body. Lucy snuggled against him and closed her eyes, completely exhausted, halfway between falling asleep and passing out. She realized that her shoes were missing. Just… gone. She was trying to figure out if the missing shoes bothered her and if she should ask someone to check the hole for her shoes when she felt herself being lifted. The other men, whoever they were, had grasped hold of Mack’s arms and lifted them out together since he refused to give her up even for a second.

“Heavy…” Lucy said with a yawn, unable to open her eyes.

“What’s that?” Mack dipped his head to her ear, his bristly chin tickling her skin.

Lucy shivered at the contact. “I feel heavy,” she whispered, her voice trailing off. “So… tired.”

“It’s okay, sweetheart. Get some rest,” he rumbled above her.

Lucy allowed herself to drift, safe in his arms. The cool evening air caressed her skin, but the warmth of his chest kept the chill away. She could hear Jane’s voice, strident and angry, arguing. A slight smile curved Lucy’s lips. Jane was being Jane.

“She’s coming home with us,” Jane snapped.

Lucy felt Jane’s hand curve around her shoulder, surprisingly gentle for a woman not known to be anything even remotely soft or gentle. Jane pressed her head against Lucy’s neck and shuddered, exhaling against her, hands gripping her. Mack allowed the two sister’s their moment, though he didn’t release Lucy.

Lucy rolled her head to the side against Mack’s elbow and cracked her eyes, forcing them open so she could see her older sister. Jane stared back at her, matching brown eyes locked together. Mack was so tall that the two sisters were almost face to face. Jane pressed her small hand against Lucy’s cheek and then laid her forehead against Lucy’s as well.

“I thought I lost you,” she whispered, her voice breaking on a sob.

Lucy nodded a little. “I know… me too.”

“You scared me, brat.”

Lucy laughed a little. “I scared me too.”

Jane gave her a watery smile. “I want you home with me,” she said desperately. “Please come home with us. We’ll take care of you, make sure this shit never happens again.”

Lucy opened her mouth to say something… she didn’t know what. She didn’t know how to respond. It didn’t matter. Mack jerked her back, out of Jane’s hands. “No,” he rumbled from above them. “She comes home with me.”

He didn’t argue, didn’t wait to see what Jane would say. He turned on his heel and walked away toward his truck, Lucy held tightly in his arms. She felt the stiffness in his body and realized he didn’t know how the Russians would handle his decision. He wouldn’t stand a chance if Vlad ordered his men to stop Mack.

Vlad didn’t move a muscle, except to restrain his wife when she would have lunged after Mack and Lucy. Not even when Jane cried out, “Stop them! Vlad, please!”

Vlad held her arm in a tight grip and watched dispassionately as Mack loaded Lucy into his truck as though he were carrying the most precious package he’d ever touched. He placed her in the passenger seat and buckled the belt. Then he reached into the back seat and grabbed a blanket, tucking it around her. He climbed into the driver’s seat and drove away from the scrap metal yard, leaving behind the most terrifying moments of Lucy’s life.