Her Dom (Beauty and the Captor 3)

I didn’t realize how badly I was shaking until Derek urged me to sit down with a gentle hand at my back. A tear trickled down my cheek as I lowered myself onto the sofa, and I brushed it away, angry with myself for being so weak. I had to pull myself together—fast.

“You knew my aunt?” I said, voicing the first thought that came to mind. Anything had to be better than sitting here crying, right?

“Yes.” His lips curved up into a small smile.

I think my aunt—whoever she was—probably liked his smile. It was nice. It wasn’t powerful enough to ripple through me like Derek’s smile, but it was pleasant. I hoped he smiled at her a lot.

“I never knew her. My mother didn’t talk about her often. Maybe you wouldn’t mind telling me about her sometime?”

His smile grew a little bigger. “I would like that, Scarlett.”

Derek went and retrieved a bottle of something and three glasses while Michael and I remained a frozen tableau. When he returned, he filled two glasses. Then he splashed a small amount in the third one and handed it to me before giving Michael one of the fuller glasses. Both men quickly downed the liquid—scotch, according to the bottle. I sat staring at my glass. I’d never had scotch before. I’d never had any alcohol before, actually. And something about it made me think I didn’t want to start now. Maybe I was just offended I was getting a kid-sized drink in comparison to theirs. Either way, I just held the glass, staring at the golden yellow scotch that covered the bottom.

“Michael is going to be driving you to Phoenix in three days. He’ll make sure you get on the plane safely the next morning,” Derek explained what I’d already suspected, but Phoenix? Was he driving me back to the U.S.?

It didn’t matter. There was still no way in hell I was going to Arizona or getting on any plane. I nodded but kept my head down though so he couldn’t read what I was thinking.

“You’ll be safe, Scarlett. I promise you,” Michael said, and though he spoke with well-meaning vehemence in his voice, I wanted to tell him not to make promises he couldn’t keep.

“Thank you,” I said instead.

I must have been convincing them both because Derek sat down and started going into detail about the plan—the part where he gets me out of here, not the part where he goes to face Mateo alone. I didn’t even know where he would be meeting him. I needed to find out without raising his suspicions.

“Why can’t I stay with you? How far could it possibly be to the airport? And then you and I could go together—safe.” It sounded kind of lame once the words were out, but it was too late to take them back.

“Scarlett, it’s an eight-hour drive from where Lopez is expecting Derek,” Michael replied—unknowingly helpful.

Derek growled and slammed his glass down on the coffee table. “Can I have a word with you, Michael?” It might have been phrased as a question, but it wasn’t a question.

“I only meant that it would be a long distance for the two of you to travel—possibly with his men after you the whole time,” Michael continued, thinking he was on the right track.

“A word. Now,” Derek barked, and the two of them left the den, but the damage had already been done.

Sure, it wasn’t a hand-drawn map to the meeting spot, but I also knew from what Derek had told me that the meeting would take place at a landing strip. All I needed to do was figure out what landing strip near here was eight hours from Phoenix.

When they returned, Michael looked appropriately contrite, and I felt a pang of guilt for getting him into trouble. He couldn’t have known I had no intention of going along with Derek’s plan.

Derek’s eyes were on me as he crossed the room and sat down next to me.

“Scar, get it out of your head. I know you want to help, but I need you to live. Do you understand? There isn’t anything in this world more important. Not Mateo Lopez, not me. Nothing. I’d walk away from this and fly with you to the other side of the world if I could, but I can’t. I have to end this. No matter the cost, you have to be safe.”

I looked at Michael, then back to Derek. They wore the same determined expressions. Damn it, Michael wasn’t going to help me. Maybe neither of them cared if Derek died, but I did. And it looked like I was going to have to do this on my own.

We stayed in the den for another two hours, though there was no more talk of escape plans. After a few minutes of tense silence, Michael had turned the conversation to his wife, telling me about how they met, how she spoke of my mother often—their childhood together and my mother getting caught up with the wrong people. I told him what I could about my mother, how she spoke of her family on occasion, how we’d moved a lot, though I didn’t know why until recently. Whether it was James or Marcos she’d been trying to hide from, I’d never know for sure though—probably both of them.