Stealing Beauty (Stolen 1)

The sun’s first dawn rays began to illuminate the world. In the soft light, I could make out that the men surrounding me wore camouflage. The one at the front of the group carried his automatic rifle slung over his shoulder. Two held me, seemingly unarmed. I couldn’t be sure about the man at my back, but I was fairly certain he held the Glock I’d been carrying in my pack.

We stepped through the first leafy trees at the border of the Darién, moving out of the wan sunlight and into shadowy wilderness. A Jeep waited just inside the tree line. If they got me in that vehicle, I’d be carried away from the safety of civilization. Once I was deep in the lawless jungle, I’d be completely helpless.

She’s pretty. We can still make some money off her, even if we can’t ransom her to an American family. I remembered the man’s horrifying words, and a chill raced over my skin. I couldn’t let them sell me. I’d be handed from one tormentor to another. Why did men want nothing more than to own me?

The man carrying the rifle got into the driver’s seat, and one of the men holding me released my arm, so he could climb into the Jeep.

I might have played the part of meek captive with Adrián, but I wouldn’t go quietly with these men.

With my right arm free, I clenched my hand to a fist and swung at the man who still held me. I’d spent the early days of my marriage fighting with Hugo, so I knew where to inflict the most pain. That had been before he broke my spirit, but I remembered how enraged he’d become when I’d bloodied his nose.

My fist connected with the man’s face, and I felt something crunch beneath my knuckles. He cursed and released me, clutching at his nose. I spun away, darting for the tree line. I had to get back out in the open. Maybe someone on the docks would help me.

The man who’d flanked me didn’t allow me to get two steps before his fingers tangled in my hair. I screamed as he yanked me back against his hard chest.

I flailed, unable to reach a target with my back to him. He caught my elbows and wrenched my arms behind me. The man I’d struck loomed large as he drew himself up to his full height. He wiped the blood from his nose and lifted his hand to slap me.

“Don’t fuck up her face,” the man holding me warned.

“You’ll pay for that, whore,” the bleeding man snarled. His hands fisted in my shirt, ripping the thin cotton with a jerk of his powerful arms.

I shrieked as humid air kissed my skin. Adrián hadn’t provided me with a bra, so I was completely bared to my assailant’s lascivious gaze. I tried to kick out, but the man behind me wrenched my elbows upward. Pain ripped through my shoulders at the sudden strain, and I was forced to bend forward to alleviate the pressure.

The bloodied man palmed my breasts with a vicious laugh. My scream strangled on a sob. I’d become numb to Hugo’s violations, but this sexual violence made memories of the first horrific months of my marriage surface. The past and present mingled, paralyzing me.

Cruel masculine laughter surrounded me, grubby hands forcing me down into the dirt. My tears fell into the damp soil, but I stopped screaming. No one was coming to save me. No one ever did.Chapter 7AdriánA distant gunshot and a scream jolted me awake. I recognized that scream.

My heart slammed against my ribcage as my eyes found Valentina’s bed.

Empty.

“Fuck!”

I launched to my feet. Mateo was already up, as well.

“My pack’s gone,” he said, his tone maddeningly cool. How could he be so collected when Valentina was missing? When he’d heard her scream?

Silence fell throughout the village. She didn’t cry out again.

The quiet set my teeth on edge. Had she been shot?

Only a second passed before I grabbed my gun out of my pack. Mateo took the spare. We’d armed ourselves well, but now, it didn’t feel like enough.

I raced past the dazed Americans, grabbing up one of their machetes before sprinting out into the dawn light.

Mateo’s footsteps pounded on the cobblestones behind me. The smooth rocks bruised my bare feet, but I didn’t notice the discomfort.

As we neared the docks, another scream pierced the tropical air.

She’s alive. Hope expanded in my chest, mingling with searing rage. Someone was hurting her. Fury was a red haze over my vision, my full focus honed on getting to her.

I heard another sharp cry, and I increased my speed as we turned for the jungle.

We burst through the tree line. My fury burned white-hot, leaving my body on a fierce snarl.

Four men surrounded her. Two held her down on the ground, pushing her into the dirt. The others loomed over her, waiting their turn.