“No, baby—”
“You don’t understand! I’m number thirteen. It should have been me.”
“No, Eve.”
“Yes! It’s my fault. They weren’t supposed to die. I’m number thirteen. Me!” She punched her fist against her chest with enough strength to leave a bruise, and Adam spun her around and held her tight. “I was number thirteen, but she saved me. Yolande saved me. And I killed her. Carlos too. I killed them both. Oh God!”
Her pain a visceral blow to mind and body, she broke apart in his arms. Head tucked under his chin, her lungs heaved for oxygen as her tears soaked his shirt. Anger cold and sharp rolled through his veins. Whether they pulled the trigger or not, the Matthews were killers, and Eve was in their crosshairs.
The bastards were going to pay.
Adam swept his gaze around the room and met the eyes of every single man.
They were willing.
They were ready.
And they were going to LA to collect.
Mission accepted; the weight of command settled on his shoulders as he turned his attention back to the screen. “Thanks, Dax. Appreciate the help. We’ll take it from here.”
“Understood. Jay will receive the full report once my local contact wraps things up at his end. My condolences to Ms. Langley.” With a crisp nod, he ended the transmission, and the screen went blank.
“It should have been me. It should have been me.” Eve’s murmurings filled the silence.
“Shh, just breathe. Nice and slow.” He stroked his hand down her hair, soothing her the only way he knew how. “That’s it. In for three.” He filled his own lungs, exaggerating the expansion of his chest, knowing hers would follow suit. “And out for three.”
With each deep breath, her racing heart slowed, and he could feel her resolve strengthening her muscles and hardening her bones. Through sheer force of will, she solidified in his arms. Her spine straightened, and she lifted her chin.
Red-rimmed and swollen, her haunted eyes met his. The desperation they held made his heart skip a beat, but the raw determination stopped it altogether. “I have to go.”
“Eve—”
Palms flat against his chest, she attempted to put some space between them. “I have to go. I have to find them.”
His arms tightened around her. “Sorry, princess.” He kept his voice even, making the effort to check the brute force of his autocratic response. Over his dead body would she be going anywhere near Los Angeles or the Matthews. “Until we deal with this situation, you’re staying here where it’s safe.”
“You don’t understand,” she cried, twisting to get free. “I can’t stay here. They’re my responsibility. I have to find them.”
He kept his hold, afraid if he let her go, she’d bolt for the door. “You’re not leaving here, so help me understand. Who do you have to find?”
“The women!” Energy spent, she clung to him for support. “I was supposed to be number thirteen, but I lived. I’m the only one who lived! Now I have to find them. They had names and families who loved them,” she sobbed, her tears once again trailing down her pale cheeks and dripping off her chin.
With laser-like clarity, he finally deciphered what she’d been trying to tell him. “You weren’t the only one held prisoner.”
“No. Bryan abducted twelve women before me, and the judge hired someone to kill them,” she said, her words coming out sharp and vengeful if a little shaky. “I can’t leave them, Adam. I know what they went through. I know how scared and alone they were. Those women deserve more than a shallow grave, and I swore to God when Yolande freed me, I would find their bodies and bring them home. I have to do this!”
Around the room men shifted, chairs squeaked, and Zander expressed exactly what they were all thinking. “Motherfuckers,” he said, the dark edge to his voice a vow made.
The Matthews, along with whoever helped them, were going down.
CHAPTERTWENTY-SEVEN
Despite havingher head tucked under Adam’s chin as he cradled her in his lap, the ache in Eve’s chest refused to lessen. Her breaths were shallow, her rib cage refusing to expand to allow for more oxygen.
Two more people were dead. Murdered because they’d helped her escape.
Shock hollowed her until nothing remained. No warmth coursed through her blood. No feeling inhabited her limbs. Her body numb, her brain buzzed with the electrical hum of overloaded circuitry.
