Alissa
“Alissa, I hate to do this to you, but you need to wake up. It’s urgent.”
I groggily opened my eyes, the sound of that deep, masculine voice dragging me out of dreamland. Nate was a Southerner with a sexy drawl that made my pulse race. I was a northern girl from Boston who’d come south when my modeling career was at its peak about five years ago. Most of the people around here were Southerners, but none of their speech affected me the way Nate’s did. When he spoke, the lilts and drawls in his speech made me tingle deep inside. Yep, I was smitten. Totally. Even the man’s speech had me mesmerized.
I blinked as Nate leaned over me, a serious expression on his face.
“What’s wrong?”
“Tommy called us on the two-way a moment ago. He said a bunch of Mexicans with guns are headed through the forest toward us. They somehow followed us here, though I don’t see how. Did you have anything to do with that?” There was suspicion in his eyes. Distrust.
I jerked upright in the bed, horror slamming into me. “Oh God! The tracking device! I forgot all about it!”
An angry curse exploded from the doorway, then Tony strode into the room. “Fucking puta! I knew we couldn’t trust you. You led them right to us!” He turned to Nate with a snarl. “Hand her over to them and get rid of her once and for all!”
Nate turned and intercepted Tony, pushing a hand against his chest. “No, we are not handing her over. Back off.”
A long moment passed while they glared at each other.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “In all the excitement, I forgot all about the tracking device. Enrique said he now puts tracking devices in all the women.” I lifted my hand and felt along the back of my neck. “It’s in my neck somewhere. I need to get it out of me.”
Nate turned back to me, coming to lean over the bed again. “I’ll cut it out later. They’re already here, so it won’t matter if we wait a bit longer to remove it. I need to go help the other dregs get rid of them, but first, I need to get you to safety. Come on. I’ll take you to the escape hatch.”
Tony marched out of the room with a furious stride. I shivered, my gaze darting to Nate’s. “He hates me.”
Nate didn’t dispute that. “Don’t take it personally.”
How could I not take it personally when the man treated me like scum? “I didn’t lead them here. I promise.” I swallowed hard. “At least, not on purpose. I’m so sorry.”
Nate’s gaze searched mine. Did he believe me?
“Whether you did or not, right now it’s too late to worry about that. Hurry. Let’s go.”
He didn’t believe me. He thought I’d led danger right to their door. Technically, I had, via the tracking device. Though I hadn’t done it on purpose.
I’m so sorry, Nate.
He yanked open a dresser drawer and pulled out a pair of gray sweats. “Here, put these on.”
I did as he said, tying the string of the waistband tightly to keep the too-big sweats from falling off my hips.
With an arm around my waist, Nate half-dragged, half-carried me down the dark corridor to a room at the end. I hobbled along beside him as quickly as I could, embarrassed by my injury that didn’t allow me to walk on my own.
He shoved open a door and entered a large gym/workout room filled with a sparring ring and various different workout equipment. He dragged me to the far corner, let go of me, then reached up to the ceiling and pulled on a lever. A folding ladder tumbled down into the room.
He turned back to me. “This leads up into a small closet in the old plantation home above. If I don’t come back, then you will have to escape up the stairs and make your way into the forest and back into Eatonton.”
“You’re coming back.” My breath hitched. “You have to.” The thought of Nate not returning made my chest squeeze and my eyes burn with tears. I blinked rapidly, fighting the tears back. He would come back. He had to.
Two of the other dregs strode into the room and headed straight toward us. Both were tall and muscular and carried big, mean-looking guns. One had shaggy blond hair, the other short-cropped, light brown hair. They both nodded at me, then climbed up the fold-up ladder and into the decrepit mansion above.
“That’s Noah and Logan. They’re going to circle around behind the Sureños from above, taking out as many as they can, while the rest of us will head them off inside the maze.”
This was all my fault. I’d done this. “I’m sorry,” I whispered again. What if Nate or one of the other dregs died because of me?
Nate turned away without another word, striding from the room and leaving me alone. I sensed his disappointment. His distrust. Did all the dregs think I’d done this on purpose?
I wiped at a tear, glancing up the stairs into the mansion above. What was up there?
Darkness. Scariness.
I wanted to do something to help, but what could I possibly do?
The Sureños had come here for me, following the signal from my tracking device. I’d left in the middle of an auction before Enrique could sell me. He was bound to be pissed. If I went up that ladder and gave myself up to the Sureños, would they go away and leave the dregs alone?
I was nothing special. Just another pretty girl. The location of the dregs’ hideout was probably a lot more important to the Sureños than getting me back.
But I was a former model. I’d once been a celebrity, though not a huge one. There were men out there who would probably pay a lot of money to own me, to have me as their sex slave. Enrique the Flesh King would probably go to a lot of trouble to get me back.
I didn’t want to put Nate or the other dregs in any more danger. They’d already risked their lives once for me. I couldn’t let any of them be hurt on my behalf.
They’re dregs. They’re way more equipped to handle Enrique’s men than you are.
Just stay put and do what Nate says. If he doesn’t come back, then you can flee up the hatch.
The truth was, I wanted to stay put. I didn’t want to leave Nate. He made me feel safe. I was coming way too attached to him.
Gunfire erupted from somewhere above ground, indicating Noah and Logan had encountered Enrique’s thugs. Would they be okay? Would they die because of me?
Please let Nate come back.
Another persistent tear trickled out. I snatched it away with my fingertip. He would come back. He had to.
More gunfire erupted, this time from somewhere in the maze. Deciding it might be safer to hide in the closet in the old mansion above, just in case some of Enrique’s thugs got past the dregs, I slowly began climbing up the wobbly ladder. I winced at the pain in my injured thigh with each tentative step on the rungs, until I finally reached the top.
It was dark up here, the light from the room below casting eerie shadows along the wooden walls of the closet. The closet was small, no more than four feet across, the wood rotted away in several places and leaving gaping holes throughout. I hesitated, then slowly crawled up into the closet and sat on the hard wooden floor. Noah and Logan had closed the door behind them when they’d gone out, probably to hide the room below.
A sudden presence loomed in front of me.
Silent. Invisible. Frightening.
I wrapped my arms around myself, and shivered.
It wasn’t human. At least, not living.
Ghostly.
“I’m h-harmless,” I whispered to the presence. “A friend of the dregs. Please, don’t hurt me.”
Something ice cold—like breath—misted against my neck, making me jump back in terror and press against the wall behind me.
The ghostly presence was not friendly. It didn’t like me. Did it think I’d betrayed the dregs?
I had never believed in evil spirits before, thinking they were just something in movies.
But this thing—whatever it was—was real.
More gunfire exploded from somewhere out in the forest.
And then, with a shift of air, the ghostly presence was gone.
I breathed out a sigh of relief and sagged back against the wall. At least the thing had been invisible. I could only imagine what it looked like, picturing in my mind creepy demons or ghouls from movies I’d seen in the past.
Stop scaring yourself. It’s gone.
It was almost as if it had been protecting the dregs, trying to scare me off.
It was gone now, and that was all that mattered.
Alone once again, I waited while sounds of battle came from all around. Out in the forest. Down in the maze.
A war zone.
Time slowly crept by.
The gunfire ceased. Then the occasional grunt or groan from one-on-one combat filled the silence.
Finally, after what seemed liked hours, but was probably only twenty or thirty minutes, silence reigned.
I stayed where I was, just listening.
Soft footsteps came from the gym below. I froze, not daring to move, not daring to make a sound in case it was one of Enrique’s thugs.
Please let it be Nate.
The ladder creaked as someone began climbing up into the closet where I hid. Was it Nate? If it was Nate, wouldn’t he call my name? Make sure I was here first? I wanted to call out to him, but if it wasn’t Nate, then I couldn’t give my presence away.
A dark head suddenly appeared in front of me, the light from the room below illuminating Tony’s face. His eyes locked on mine. The expression on his face was one of black fury. I cringed back into the wall, my heart leaping into my throat.
“Wh-where’s Nate?” I whispered. “What’s happened?”
“He was shot.” Tony’s words were cold, menacing. “Twice. You will pay for this, puta.”
My heart twisted painfully. No. Nate can’t be hurt. He can’t die.
“No.” I shook my head back and forth in denial. Not Nate.
“Yes,” he hissed out. Tony climbed farther up the ladder and reached for me, snagging my ankle and yanking me toward him.
I gasped and kicked out at him, my heart thundering. This man hated me. He thought I was a whore. He thought I’d led the Sureños here. He blamed me for Nate getting shot. Tony had good reason to want me dead. To kill me.
I lunged for the closet doorknob, eager to be free, terrified of what Tony might do to me. In the struggle, I somehow managed to pull my foot from Tony’s grasp.
My hand closed over the knob and I turned it, shoving the door open.
Tony grabbed my ankle again and yanked me away from the door. Then he reeled me back toward him.
A sob burst out of me. “Please. I didn’t mean for anyone to get hurt. I forgot about the tracking device. I’m sorry.”
“Sorry isn’t going to save him,” he growled out, “but killing you will make me feel better.”
“No,” I pleaded. “Please.” I squirmed and kicked back at him again, desperate to escape. This time my foot connected with his cheek. He hissed out a breath and flipped me over. Then he pulled me roughly toward him.
My heart stuttered. My breath snagged in my throat.
He was going to kill me.
I tried to scramble backward, but my injured thigh made me as clumsy as a newborn calf. I slammed into his rock hard chest. He glowered at me, his eyes black with menace. “Nate is my partner, my best friend. I feel his pain like it was my own. If he dies, it will destroy me, and I will most certainly kill you, puta. I will torture you mercilessly. And you will feel every little bit of the pain.”
Terror wrapped tightly around my heart and squeezed. Nate couldn’t die. He couldn’t.
If he dies, this man will kill you.