by Karen Kelley
"Give me a description of the woman."
"Blonde hair, blue eyes, average height. Young. Maybe twenty. She's a looker, but you would expect Marco to be with someone as stunning as this woman. She doesn't look as though she wants to be with him in the pictures. She's smiling, but there's something about her body language, the way she’s leaning slightly away from him. I don't think she likes Marco. Why are you asking about her?"
"Because I have her in the car with me."
Carter laughed. "Are you picking up strays again?"
"It would seem so."
"Well, I think you've opened a great big can of worms with this one. I thought you said you were going to take a vacation."
"Shit happens." He ended the call. Carter could be a smartass sometimes.
At least someone would dispose of the two bodies. That might buy them a little time. He glanced across the seat. Now, what the hell was he going to do with her?
Chapter Four
"You can never run away from me!" Marco spat. "I will always find you."
Savannah turned to run away, but Marco grabbed her arm and pulled her closer, laughing.
"You are my property, and I'll never let you go." He slapped her across the face. Tears stung her eyes.
She looked around for Breaker, but he was gone. It was only her and Marco.
"You will tell me that you understand what I'm saying."
She reached up and touched her face. "I understand," she mumbled.
"I don't think you do. Maybe I need to teach you another lesson."
"I understand," she whimpered again.
But he wasn’t listening. He dragged her toward the closet and shoved her inside, then shut the door. The lock turned. She planted her hands on the door and pushed, but it didn’t move. How long would he leave her this time? Stifling darkness closed around her.
Suddenly, she was free again. She began to run, but it didn't matter. Wherever she turned, Marco was right in front of her.
He shoved a list toward her. "This is what you will do today. Each day I will give you a list of duties. You will complete everything on the list or suffer the consequences. Do I make myself clear?"
The room suddenly grew dark, and Marco faded. She looked down at her empty hands. Marco would return. He always came back. But she couldn't find the list. Where was the list of her duties? She had to find it. How would she know what to do? She began running. Marco was right behind her with a branding iron. She could feel the heat getting closer and closer.
***
Savannah jerked awake, gasping, and looking from side to side. Sweat beaded her forehead. There were gas pumps. Was Martin still here, or had the gardener left? When the car door opened, she pressed against the passenger side door.
"I had to stop and get gas, even though we're only about an hour away. They have restrooms on the inside if you'd like to use them before we leave." His gaze met hers, and he frowned. "Are you okay?"
She nodded. It was just Breaker. She'd been dreaming, more like a nightmare. She’d thought… It didn’t matter now. "Yes, I’m fine, thank you." She opened her door and scrambled out, then hurried toward the convenience store. Once inside, a sign directed her to the back where the restrooms were located. She went inside and quickly used the facilities, then washed her hands and wet her face.
When her gaze met her reflection in the mirror, she could only stare. Who was this frightened woman staring back at her? So much had changed about her in the five years since Marco had bought her.
She’d dreamed of becoming a dancer one day. Before Jade had been sold, her older sister would write plays for them to act out. Rena would sing in her beautiful voice, and Savannah would dance. They'd been carefree, young… She drew in a deep breath. And innocent. So very innocent. It seemed like a lifetime ago.
She quickly dried her hands and face, then hurried out of the convenience store. She looked toward the gas pumps, but the car wasn't there. A surge of panic rushed through her. Before it could take complete hold, someone honked. She jerked her head in the direction of the sound.
A flood of relief swept over her. He hadn't left, just moved the car. Her legs felt like melted butter, and it was all she could do to make her way over to the vehicle without stumbling. She opened the passenger side door and got in.
"I wouldn't leave you stranded," Breaker quietly told her.
Their gazes met across the seat. She nodded, then fastened her seatbelt.
"I bought a couple of sodas. I didn't know what kind you liked, so I guessed and got us both root beer. I hope that was okay." He handed her one of the bottles.
She took it, then mumbled a thank you.
"I got candy bars. I have a sweet tooth." He smiled, then handed them both toward her. "Take whichever one you want. The Hershey chocolate bar or Reese's peanut butter cups."
She began to tremble. It had been too long since she'd had a choice in anything. She wasn't sure what to do. What if she picked the wrong one? Marco always made the decisions. What she would eat, drink, wear that day…
"I know," Breaker said after a long pause. "You take the peanut butter cups. I can eat the chocolate bar easier while I'm driving."
She sighed with relief, then tentatively took the one in the orange wrapper. God, he must think she was an idiot. She couldn't even choose which candy bar to take. But how did she explain how well Marco’s training had worked?
Breaker fastened his seatbelt, then started the car and got back on the interstate. "I don't know what Marco did to you, but you’re not with him anymore. You’re free."
She wasn't sure if she would ever be free. She twisted off the lid and took a sip of the soda. Better than the other one. Not nearly as strong. Marco hadn't allowed her to drink sodas or eat sweets. He hadn't wanted her to get fat. Nor could she watch television or read, unless he gave her a book. The books were usually dull and boring. Now, in less than a few hours, she'd had two sodas and was about to eat a candy bar.
She unwrapped the candy and bit into one of the chocolate cups, then smiled. It tasted good. She hadn't been able to eat hardly anything all day. When Isabella wasn't looking, she'd scraped her dinner into the trash, then made sure the other trash covered it. She'd discovered early that Isabella reported everything to Marco. If Savannah didn't clean out her plate, he would know, and Marco would punish her.
Not that she blamed Isabella. She was as much a victim as Savannah. Isabella would say that it was a woman's lot in life to take care of men. Once, Savannah had tried to explain that wasn't how it worked anymore, but Isabella had been with the Sanchez family since she was ten. First, with Marco's grandfather.
The next day, Marco explained how she would take care of him. That was the first time he put her in the closet. Or the hole as she'd come to think about the tiny, dark, airless closet. The closet was so small that she was forced to stand all day.
The first time she was in there for eighteen hours. The first two, she thought she would go crazy and banged on the door. The third hour, she begged and cried for him to let her out. When she realized that he wouldn’t let her out until he was ready, she closed her eyes and thought about Jade and Rena. Memories shared with her sisters were all that got her through those times.
She hadn’t tried to talk to Isabella again.
"We're almost to the bar I own. You can stay the night, then decide what to do tomorrow. I have a couch where you can sleep if that sounds okay. Your choice."
There it was again—her choice.
“Thank you.” What else could she say? Breaker would never know just how grateful she was for what he’d done. Tomorrow, she would leave. Yes, being alone again scared the hell out of her. For a little while, he’d made her feel safe.
Savannah didn't say a lot for the rest of the drive. She was glad that Breaker didn't press her to know more about Marco or her past. How could she tell him that her father sold her to someone involved with the drug cartel? That he'd also sold Savannah’s older sister before her?
/> Where were they now? Memories of the three of them together were all that got her through the last five years. As soon as she was able, she was going to try to find her sisters. Jade would have been able to survive the man who’d bought her. She'd been the strong one. She'd taken over after their mother died when she’d only been six and Savannah five. Together they'd managed to take care of three-year-old Rena.
When she thought about Rena, it was almost as if a band tightened around her heart. She wasn't sure about her little sister. Savannah had kept her innocent. That had been a mistake. She knew that now. She should've explained about their father sooner, but she hadn't. Had she understood everything Savannah had tried to tell her that last day? Maybe Rena was able to learn on her own and grow strong.
There was always the smallest of hope in her heart that Rena ran away, that their father hadn't sold her, and somehow she'd survived. But how would she ever find her? She would only be seventeen now. Jade would be twenty.
She almost laughed, but caught herself in time. She'd been afraid that Breaker wouldn't believe her when she’d lied and told him she was twenty-two, instead of her real age of nineteen. After staring at her reflection earlier, she knew she would pass for twenty-two a lot easier than nineteen. Living with Marco had aged her. She wondered if she would ever find the girl she’d been before she'd crossed paths with him.
She sat a little straighter as Breaker pulled off the interstate, then turned down another road. Just like once before, she watched to see what direction they were going. She tried to tell herself that she didn't need to, but it had become a habit every time she’d left the house with Marco. There'd always been that glimmer of hope that she would be able to escape him.
“Is this New Orleans?” she asked.
“I didn’t want to live in the city, but we’re only about an hour away. This is Morgan Crossing. It’s not much, kind of quiet, but I like quiet.” Breaker pulled up in front of a building with a sign that proclaimed it as TJ's Bar and Grill. "It's not much to look at on the outside, but it's mine."
"Who's TJ?" A tremble of fear rippled over her. She'd watched Breaker kill two men. What if he was going to kill her, too?
"I thought about changing the name, but everyone in the area still referred to it as TJ's. He was the previous owner. I decided if I changed the name, no one would realize that it was the old TJ's. So, I decided to leave it." He opened his door and got out.
She grabbed her backpack and followed as he went around to the back of the building and up a set of stairs that led to the second floor. A streetlight cast a faint glow and lit the way for them. Apparently, he lived above the bar.
She glanced around, but beyond the light, it was too dark to see much. When she inhaled, she caught the scent of pine trees.
Breaker unlocked the door, then ran his hand around on the inside until he could flip a switch. Light flooded the main room. When he held the door open, her hesitation was brief before she went inside. She didn't really trust Breaker, but she figured after Marco, anything had to be better. Right now, she didn’t have that many options.
She was pleasantly surprised when she walked inside. The room was furnished with heavy, brown leather furniture. There was a coffee table in front of the sofa, and a big-screen TV hung on the wall.
It was open concept, so she could see the kitchen. The cabinets were white, and the countertops were light brown granite with darker streaks running through it. A coffee pot set on the counter, but that was all.
"The bathroom is through there," he pointed to a closed door. "My bedroom is through that door, and my office is behind the other door. The place is small, but it suits my needs."
"You have a very nice home," she said, assuming he expected her to comment. Marco always expected her to say something.
When he grinned, his eyes sparkled. "Thank you. I'll just grab some bedding for you." His forehead suddenly wrinkled. "Maybe I should give you the bedroom."
"No, the sofa will be fine." When he looked as if he would argue, she continued. "I would rather sleep on the sofa."
"Then I'll be right back with some bedding." He disappeared into his bedroom, returning a few minutes later with sheets, a blanket, and pillow, setting them on the sofa. He turned on the small lamp between the chair and the sofa, and turned off the overhead light.
He disappeared again, this time into the bathroom. When he came back out, he glanced her way.
"Get a good night’s sleep. You're safe here. I'll see you in the morning."
She nodded. As soon as the door to his bedroom closed, she sat on the side of the sofa and looked around. For a moment, she felt the panic begin to rise inside her again. What was she supposed to do? She didn't have a list. Always, there was the list.
She raised her chin. No, she would never have another list. She had to learn to survive on her own. She used to be strong, and she could find that strength again. She unzipped her backpack and reached inside, pulling out a blue nightgown.
She'd only taken what she thought she might need. Another pair of jeans, three T-shirts, two pairs of underwear, two pairs of socks, and another bra. A toothbrush and toothpaste, and a hairbrush filled her backpack the rest of the way.
Every chance she’d gotten, Savannah had taken a few dollars from Marco’s wallet. She'd managed to hide four hundred dollars away from him, but she knew that wouldn't get her far. That's why she was so grateful to Breaker for the ride he'd given her. Every mile she put between her and Marco was a mile in the right direction.
She quickly made up the sofa, then went into the bathroom, closing the door behind her. She brushed her teeth, then her hair, then used the facilities. She made sure that everything looked exactly the same as when she'd gone inside.
Her gaze moved toward the shower, and her breathing became more labored. Marco had insisted she take a shower twice a day. Once in the morning and once at night. Sometimes more. He’d told her that she would never be able to get rid of the stench of poverty she was born into. He'd often watched to make sure she scrubbed her skin hard enough to suit him. If he was angry about something, whether she'd caused him to be mad or not, sometimes he would pour bleach over her raw skin.
She grabbed the side of the sink and held on until her breathing returned to normal. Marco isn't here. No, he wasn’t, and she was safe. Breaker had said she was safe. She had to believe him.
As soon as she felt calmer, she undressed and reached for her gown. When she moved, she caught a glimpse of her right shoulder. She stilled, looking at the raised MS brand. The letters were slightly taller than an inch and about an inch and a half wide. Her fists clenched. Damn him! She hated him for what he’d done to her. Not just the brand, but everything she’d lived through over the last five years.
Always doing what he wanted her to do, eating what he wanted her to eat—scrubbing his floors. She drew in a shaky breath. And other things. No, she wouldn't think about what he'd made her do. If she did, she might start screaming and never stop.
And she hated her father. He’d ripped apart their family, destroyed her mother. She hoped he was dead. Dammit, she should’ve used the gun. She closed her eyes and brought her breathing under control. She’d learned fast enough how to control her emotions when she was with Marco.
Everything would be better now. She slipped the gown over her head, then picked up her clothes and went back into the other room. She turned off the lamp and slipped beneath the cover. The one thing that gave her pleasure was the fury he must be feeling right now, knowing that she had beat him, even if it only lasted a little while, she'd won this round and finally managed to escape.
Chapter Five
Breaker stood at the end of the sofa watching Savannah. Strands of blonde hair partially covered her face. In sleep, she looked younger, vulnerable. Again, he wondered how she could've gotten mixed up with someone like Marco. Lousy home life maybe? He could certainly relate to that.
He turned and walked over to the coffee pot, adding heaping scoops of co
ffee to the filter. Today he would wash his hands of her and all the problems she dragged behind her. There was no way Marco or his men could connect the two of them. He wouldn't have to worry about them showing up unexpectedly, and if they did, he would handle that as well.
He'd helped Savannah more than anyone else would have helped her. He had nothing to feel guilty about, nothing at all. He added water to the coffee machine, then placed the carafe beneath the spout and turned it on.
While he waited, he rested his palms on the counter and drew in a deep breath before expelling it.
If he didn't have anything to feel guilty about, then why the hell did he feel so guilty? It was just like Carter told him, he was picking up strays again.
He jerked his gaze toward the bathroom when the door closed. What the hell? He hadn't even heard her moving around. He shook his head. He was losing his touch. If he weren't careful, it would get him killed.
As soon as the coffee was ready, he poured himself a cup and sat down at the table. A few minutes later, Savannah opened the door of the bathroom and stepped out. His gaze traveled over her. She wore a pair of jeans and a yellow T-shirt this morning. Even without makeup, she was beautiful. Something inside him stirred to life. It had been a long time since he’d felt anything for a woman.
Not that he’d been celibate, he just hadn’t let himself get emotionally involved. Brianna had burned him, and burned him bad. Hell, she’d been two years ago. Why the hell was he even thinking about her? Maybe because she’d had a lot of baggage, too. She’d nearly gotten him killed because of it.
Savannah glanced toward him, then her gaze skittered away as she went to the sofa. She began folding the sheets and blanket that she'd used last night. "If you can tell me where the nearest bus stop is, I'll leave. Thank you for bringing me this far."
"Come over here," he said. "The coffee's ready if you'd like a cup."
"I'm not allowed… I mean, I don't drink coffee."
