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Chapter 1
Evelyn
The thick cloth gag between my teeth trapped my tongue, smothering my pleas for mercy. My breath stuttered, and my chest heaved on short, shallow gasps. I jerked against the restraints that bound my wrists and ankles. Zip ties dug into my flesh, the unyielding bonds tearing my skin as I struggled for freedom. At some point, my relentless screams had broken down into ragged shouts, my ravaged throat becoming raw and hoarse.
I had no idea how much time had passed since I’d been taken. All I remembered were the strong arms that’d grabbed me from behind and the acrid smell of the cloth that’d been shoved over my nose and mouth. I’d been leaving work, following the familiar path from the university back to my apartment. Then everything had dissolved into darkness.
It was still dark; no light slipped through the blindfold that was knotted tightly enough to make my head ache. The damp concrete floor was cool beneath my cheek, but the chilly sensation did nothing to soothe the pounding in my brain.
I couldn’t see, couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. The sense of complete helplessness crushed my chest like a lead weight, preventing my lungs from fully expanding. Razor sharp fear clawed at my mind, shredding my thoughts.
“Shut up!” The man’s frustrated bark hit me at the same time his boot slammed into my stomach.
My insides writhed in agony, and my shouts were silenced as I choked for air.
“Don’t kill her,” another man warned. “We need her as a hostage.”
The first man had yelled at me in English, but the second man spoke Spanish. They had to be aware I was American, even though I’d done my best to acclimate to life in Mexico City and was fluent in Spanish. The prospect that they knew I was an expat chilled my blood. And they’d mentioned keeping me as a hostage. How much did these men know about me?
I feared I already knew why they’d abducted me, but my brain refused to fully acknowledge the horror of my situation; I was too absorbed in processing the pain of the brutal kick to the gut.
They continued to discuss me in their native language. “Crawford will come for her. Then we can kill them both.”
A strangled sound caught in my throat. I couldn’t have begged for George’s life even if I wanted to. Crawford. They were talking about my fiancé. George was a DEA agent. We’d moved to Mexico City for his job. If these men wanted to get to him, then they must be affiliated with one of the cartels he fought against on a daily basis.
“No reason I can’t have a little fun before he gets here.” Rough hands grabbed me, groping at my chest.
Horror twisted my stomach. I tried to shriek, but I managed little more than a pained wheeze. My insides were still on fire, and my diaphragm wouldn’t expand to draw in a full breath.
I thrashed, the cable ties ripping at the skin around my wrists and ankles. The man’s breath was hot and putrid on my cheek. Acting on instinct, I slammed my head in his direction. Pain lanced my skull at the impact, and a flash of bright light flickered over my dark world as my head spun.
The man’s sickening heat receded, and his string of curses boomed through the cramped space where they were holding me captive.
“What the fuck are you doing?” A new, deep voice cracked across my flickering consciousness. “Who is she?”
There was something odd about his accented Spanish, but my mind was spinning too fast to contemplate it.
“She’s George Crawford’s fiancée.” Someone spat on the concrete. “He’ll come for her, and we’ll kill that motherfucker.”
Cold flashed over me at the threat to George’s life, and my struggles became more frantic. I didn’t notice the blood that welled around my restraints, coating my palms in warmth. I tried to beg for his life, to rail at these monsters that I wouldn’t let them use me against my fiancé.
“She broke my fucking nose.” I recognized the voice of the man who’d groped me, but it was slightly more nasal now. “She’ll pay for that.”
Pain exploded through my head, and a wave of nausea crashed over me. A furious roar resounded through the cramped space, the primal sound all that tethered me to reality as my consciousness wavered.
Chapter 2
Massimo
Acting without thinking, I grabbed the motherfucker who’d kicked a defenseless woman and slammed him back against the wall. His head made a satisfying crack against the concrete blocks, and his dark eyes slid out of focus. My knife was at his throat in a heartbeat, drawn from the sheath at my side in one lighting fast, practiced sweep.
“Let him go!” his friend shouted at me in Spanish. It wasn’t my native language, but I’d made sure to learn it before traveling here from Italy.
I stayed my hand just before my blade opened his throat, summoning all my willpower to prevent myself from killing the coward. What kind of man kicked a bound and helpless woman, especially one as fragile as the willowy blonde who was now far too still on the damp floor?
Not a man at all. I appraised the two pieces of shit in the cramped basement with me. Both watched me with wide, terrified eyes. They were little more than boys, barely in their twenties. I could handle them easily if necessary.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” I seethed, pressing my blade just deep enough to draw a drop of ruby blood from my enemy’s throat.
