Chapter 15

Se?or Vargas had sent a red evening dress, matching heels, and a makeup bag with her guards to the suite with instructions. She was to be ready in an hour and she was not to wear her hair in a braid. She'd gone with her usual top-of-the-head ponytail. It left most of her hair loose but also kept it out of her way. Mostly.

Nyx's hands shook as she raised the hem of her formal gown to go down the stairs. This was a scenario she hadn't thought to worry about and she had a good imagination.

The dress only had one shoulder and it fit her body closely, as if it had been tailored specifically to highlight her curves. It was elegant, but it was also sexy. Case had hated it. He'd nearly gotten himself shot trying to accompany her from the room when the guards arrived for her.

Because he'd thought the same thing she had. That she was possibly going to find herself used sexually. She didn't want to think the word rape , but it popped into her brain anyway.

She wobbled on the stairs, and one of Vargas's men caught her elbow, holding on until she regained her balance. "Gracias," she murmured, her throat too tight to manage more volume.

She didn't have a clue what was going on. Her questions—Case's demands—had gone unanswered.

They stopped in the foyer. The floor was beige and black marble, with two steps up to the entryway. Double wrought iron doors were surrounded by two windows and a half-circle window above it all, also covered with wrought iron. Nyx hadn't paid much attention to it on Saturday, but now she had nothing else to do.

Except worry.

The wait didn't last long. Vargas arrived in a tuxedo. If it weren't for his dead eyes, he might have been attractive, even with the scar on his face and the slightly crooked nose. She guessed he was close to fifty, which made him nearly twice her age. His dark, wavy hair appeared freshly trimmed, and his tux and dress shirt were pressed. She was no expert, but the shirt studs appeared to be real gold. As he reached her, she smelled cigarettes. He must have just finished smoking.

He offered her his arm. Puzzled, Nyx took it. The gown had a court train which made walking extra difficult, especially for her. She wasn't used to dressing up. He was patient while she maneuvered the two shallow steps up to the door, and that was unexpected.

Nyx wished Case was with her, that he was the one in a tuxedo, offering her his arm. Then she'd be excited, wondering what surprise he had in store for her.

With Vargas, she didn't want any more shocks. The dress and her instructions were enough for one day. She wanted to know why they were headed to the front entry and why she was in an evening gown. One of her guards moved forward to open the door. A limo was idling in the circular drive, the fading evening sun glinting off the metal.

She needed both hands to lift the hem of the dress, and the drug lord quietly waited for her at the car. The guard who'd caught her elbow earlier remained at her side, seemingly ready to rescue her again if necessary. Nyx was flummoxed. What was happening? Why was she being treated as a guest and not a prisoner?

When she reached the limo, he gestured for her to get inside.

Her stomach knotted. Leaving the grounds without Case couldn't be good for her. But she didn't see a way to avoid it, not with Vargas, his driver, and two guards nearby. Then there were his patrols, the men on the wall, and assorted other armed gangsters. Another gesture, this one impatient, and Nyx gathered up her skirt.

She tried to be graceful, but the gown tripped her up despite her best efforts, and she fell into the car. Luckily, she landed with three-quarters of her butt on the seat and slid over to the far side. It took some effort to arrange her clothing, so it wasn't twisted around her legs.

Vargas sat beside her, and his two men took the seat opposite them. It dawned on her then that they were dressed in tuxedos as well. Bodyguards for their boss, not prison guards for her.

The partition between the passenger compartment and the driver was raised, but Nyx felt the car rock slightly as the man got behind the wheel. In a moment, they were underway. She wanted answers, but it was hard to think clearly. She needed to be better. Her dad had taught her to contain the fear. She could handle herself.

It took time. They'd left the compound and were driving on a narrow two-lane asphalt road before she gathered enough courage to speak. "Where are we going?"

Without glancing at her, Vargas said, "Trujillo."

Which answered her question yet told her nothing. She doubted he was returning her to her hotel. Would she have a chance to escape?

As if reading her mind, the drug lord turned to her. "Before you consider doing anything foolish, I'd remind you that your fiancé remains on my property. He will feel the brunt of my anger should you do anything that displeases me."

Nyx nodded. "I understand."

Escape was off the table, then. Case had gone out of his way to protect her, and she would do the same for him. No matter the personal cost.

They rode in silence. She kept her hands in her lap, fingers linked, and worked on compartmentalizing. Worrying wasn't going to help her, so she locked it away. It didn't want to stay buried. Acknowledge the fear—it was part of the human survival instinct—and then move past it. At least until it was safe to fall apart. Nyx needed her wits about her.

Once she felt in control, she asked, "Why are we going to Trujillo, Se?or Vargas?"

His gaze settled on her. "For tonight, you will call me Julián."

"All right," she agreed easily as if the request didn't cause a spike of adrenaline. "Why are we going to Trujillo, Julián?"

"You're curious." His voice was flat, giving her no hints whether he was angry.

"I don't like surprises."

"No? Not even ones that might be fun?"

Nyx was left fighting the fear again. What was Vargas's idea of fun? "I used to search for my Christmas presents when I was a child so I knew what I was getting. I didn't even want the gifts to be a surprise."

One side of his mouth kicked up, but she wasn't sure how to label the expression. Sort of a smile, sort of sad. "My daughter was the same. You would have had much in common with her."

What did that mean? Something about his demeanor had her hesitant, but Nyx asked anyway. "Would have had?"

"She died ten years ago. She would have been your age had she lived."

Shit, she'd poked at something she should have left alone. "I'm sorry."

Vargas nodded once. He went back to ignoring her, and she stared out the window of the limo. She still hadn't gotten an answer as to why they were traveling to Trujillo, but after this exchange, Nyx decided to bide her time. It was at least a ninety-minute drive, and as it became darker, they'd need to go slower.

Taking a deep breath, she tried to suss out the situation. The two guards across from her seemed bored. They didn't give her any hints. Turning her head enough to see the drug lord, Nyx studied him. His demeanor gave nothing away, but she tried to find the vibe.

Wound up. Practically vibrating with anticipation? No, that wasn't right. At least not in the sense she was thinking. It was more like someone preparing for battle. That kind of adrenaline. It raised more questions, and Nyx put them in the order she wanted to ask them. After Vargas got over her asking about his daughter.

She was beginning to wonder if he would tell her anything, no matter how she phrased her questions. His lack of communication made her uneasy. Was he planning to auction her off tonight?

How did sex trafficking work?

Where the fuck was Oz?

Case needed out of this room. Now. Once he was free, he would find Nyx and get her off this compound. He didn't know what kind of game Vargas was playing, but if that asshole touched her—or allowed anyone else to touch her—he'd kill the motherfucker.

The stricken expression on Nyx's face as she'd been escorted from the suite tormented him. So did the fact he'd been powerless to stop the situation. If he'd pushed any harder, he would be dead, and she'd be completely alone then. Damn it to hell.

Realizing his hands were fisted, Case forced himself to relax. He wouldn't be any use to his Fireball if he didn't regain control.

Time to lock it down. Time to think.

He didn't like the hallway as an exit because he couldn't see the position of the men, and he'd never clear the door before they were on him. But he could see where the balcony guards were standing because of all the glass.

Moving deeper into the bedroom, he did a quick check. Then Case did a second, longer look because he only saw one man on duty. There'd always been a pair. Until now.

He checked the time. Shift change had been about ten minutes ago. He'd been timing the movement of the guards since he and Nyx had been imprisoned. Maybe the second dude was late. Case would give it another ten minutes.

But if the situation stayed as is, he knew how he was getting out of the room.

Because of all the windows, there was a corresponding amount of curtains. When they were open, as they were now, there were thick gathers of fabric, including a nice deep one next to the door outside. The bedroom jutted out farther than the sitting room and that gave Case cover.

Quickly, he found Nyx's backpack and put their things in it. He didn't want to drag this with him, but he couldn't take her into the rainforest in a long dress. She needed a change of clothes, and he might as well bring everything.

Stashing the pack nearby, Case settled on a chair in the sitting room that allowed him a view of the windows in both rooms. He watched the man patrol, pacing back and forth across the patio. He appeared bored. Good. It was nearly dusk. The low level of light, the layout of the suite, and the guard's lack of interest in his job would all help Case get out of here. The sightlines from the wall to the balcony even worked in his favor. Between the distance and the encroaching darkness, they were unlikely to see anything.

Ten minutes. No second guard.

Case got into position near the door. If he'd missed a camera, he wouldn't get far, but he was taking his chance.

He reached for the lock, soundlessly opened it and waited.

Slipping outside when it was clear, he closed the door behind him and eased into the corner of the house. The instant the guard appeared, Case acted. Landing a hard fist to the man's temple, he knocked him out and dragged him into the suite.

When he had the guy trussed up and stripped of weapons, he donned the shoulder holster over his T-shirt, tugged on the baseball cap and the backpack, and slung the strap of the M4 across his shoulder. There wasn't a lot of outdoor lighting, not near the suite, and it was nearly dark. He should be able to pass as one of the mercenaries hired by Vargas.

Case went outside and patrolled like the guard while he checked out the situation. Everything remained quiet. No one was paying any attention to the balcony.

There were no stairs on this side of the house, so he climbed over the railing. Hanging on to the wrought iron he lowered himself far enough to drop onto the small patch of grass below. Staying in the shadows, Case began searching for Nyx.

Getting her over the wall and off the property? That would take a diversion, a large one, but after he had his Fireball safely at his side, he'd find Oz and have his teammate contact the Big Dog.

No matter what it took, Nyx wasn't spending one more night here.