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Still, he’d forced her to clean the toilet with the brush clamped between her teeth, the floors with sponges strapped to her hands and knees while using her mouth as a soap dispenser. She’d gotten sick from the chemicals, burned her gums and tongue and throat until it became hard to breathe, let alone swallow.
“Eighteen years,” Hadley said reverently. “Eighteen years and a trail of death and destruction without a lead to follow. An investigation stalled while bodies wait in the morgue, until today. Today marks the beginning of Sire’s downfall.”
The beginning, but not the end. Sire was cunning and clever. There wouldn’t be an end to his reign of torture and murder until there were handcuffs around his wrists or his body buried six feet deep. There were ways and means to avoid capture, and Sire had planned every last one down to the last second.
“With this information I can set things in motion. I’d already requested my team relocate here; I’ll be submitting my report to my superior when I return to the sheriff’s office and adding a request for additional back up. I want a guard on Jenna twenty-four hours a day, beginning immediately. That may mean I have to utilize the sheriff’s department for the next few days.”
Connor snorted. “You’ll be lucky. If Caleb doesn’t shut you out after this morning’s episode, he hasn’t got the manpower available to provide round-the-clock protection details. He has two deputies who I wouldn’t trust to guard an empty vending machine, and a volunteer who’s barely scraped the legal age limit.”
“Unfortunately for Caleb, he doesn’t have the option of shutting me out. The federal government doesn’t take kindly to obstructions being thrown in its path, particularly when it comes to investigations of this magnitude, and especially not when I’m the special agent in charge.” Hadley slipped his toys back in his jacket. “If your brother gets in my way on this, he will regret it. I’ll bring the full force of the FBI down on his head. He won’t have a badge or two deputies incapable of defending an empty vending machine. I’ll make sure of it.”
Jenna put her hands over her ears to block the hard tone. The agent wasn’t shouting, but that tone sent needles of ice down her spine. She didn’t want to be responsible for a man losing his job, even a man who made her skin crawl. Which was ridiculous when she knew he was cut from the same genetic cloth as Cain and Connor, but everything about Caleb kicked her instincts onto red alert.
“Jenna, baby.” Connor pried her fingers away from her ear and curled them around Moose. “Why don’t you take Moose upstairs and see if Sarah would like some lunch? I’ll see Agent Hadley out, and then we’ll eat, okay?”
She hugged the plushie close to her chest. Her stomach revolted at the thought of food, and something of her distaste must have shown on her face because Connor’s hardened into a light shade of stern.
“You’ll eat, Jenna. There’s nothing on you, and it’s not good enough.”
She sighed through her nose so she huffed loudly. If she wasn’t hungry, she wasn’t hungry. What was the point of eating if she was just going to throw it up again when her belly decided it didn’t like food?
“Waffles,” Connor said persuasively, a purr in his voice. The purr was more appealing to her in that moment than the idea of waffles and syrup. “There might even be some bacon.”
Jenna pouted, considered.Maybeshe could choke down a waffle or two… She held Moose up to her ear, tilted her head. “Moose would like ice cream.”
“He would, would he? Is Moose going to go upstairs and fetch Sarah?”
She twirled a lock of hair around her fingers. “No.”
“Then no ice cream.”
“But Daddy…”
“But Jenna.” He lifted her off his lap and, to her surprise, gave her a sharp tap on the butt with the flat of his hand. It didn’t hurt, didn’t even sting, but that firm connection made her knees weak. “Off you go, baby.”
Confused by her body’s reaction, she wobbled to the doorway, paused in the hallway to gather her sensibilities.
“Do you think she’s a natural submissive?” Hadley asked quietly, low enough she had to strain to catch the words. “A true little? Is that what drew that fucker to her?”
“Natural submissive, at a guess. I think that would appeal to the likes of him. A young female predisposed to please? She’d be a wet dream for him. She’s not a masochist—pain is the stick to her, not the carrot. Combine the two and she would be easy to manipulate into doing whatever he wanted.” The slightest pause, a thoughtful sigh. “She’s not a little, even if she has tendencies. This is a coping mechanism; you saw how easily the child usurps the adult. Until she feels strong enough to take full control of her life again, she’ll use the child to hide behind.”
“You don’t sound disappointed by that.”
“I’m not. I enjoy tending to her, caring for her, looking after her, but Daddy Dom isn’t my kink. I’m with her every step of the way, but one day—if, when, we ever reach for the next rung on the ladder—sex with a child isn’t on my bucket list. All I want right now is for her to be happy, healthy and safe.”
“Happy and healthy is down to you, Doc, but safe falls under my responsibility now, too. Don’t leave her alone and try not to leave your nurse alone with her either. Two women won’t be a deterrence to this guy if he makes his move. I’ll get men in place as soon as I physically can, but you need to take precautions from today. Lock windows and doors, set alarms, keep your eye out for strangers in the area. I imagine Jenna would recognize Sire if he comes anywhere near, even in disguise, but don’t take any risks. All it takes is one split second and she’s gone.”
Connor’s voice was a sharp blade. “I’ll take precautions, trust me. That bastard’s not getting his hands on what’s mine. He’s not going to have an opportunity to hurt her again. I’ll rip him into shreds with my bare hands first.”
Cuddling Moose to her chest, Jenna smiled into his fur. She blocked out the talk of Sire and concentrated on the one sentence filling her with unrivalled happiness.
That bastard’s not getting his hands on what’s mine.
Chapter Twelve
“This kills two birds with one fucking stone, Con. Trust me, you need this.” Cain made himself at home in the recliner, a beer in one hand and the other rubbing his chin with amusement. “Your lass there needs it.”
It was after nine p.m. and what Connor needed was his own beer, his currently still-little girl tucked up beside him in bed, and a couple hours sleep before the goddamn nightmares hit. Since Hadley’s first visit a week ago, Jenna’s bad dreams were a relentless stream throughout the night. She woke anywhere up to half a dozen times a night, dripping in cold sweat, screaming, and so disorientated she’d mistaken Connor for fucking Sire more than once.
