Uncut Bundle

Her cheeks paled but she didn’t answer. He took some bills from his pocket, dumped them on the table and got to his feet.

“Let’s go,” he muttered.

He grabbed her arm and the suitcase and led her across the street to her car.

“Open it.”

“Whatever you’re looking for…I don’t have it. No matter what you do to me—”

“Open the damned car.”

She dug the keys from her purse, opened the door and he pushed her inside. “Sit,” he commanded. When she complied, he took the keys from her, got behind the wheel and burned rubber getting out of the lot.

Twenty minutes later, he found the kind of place he needed, a turnoff that led through some trees to a small lake. There were empty beer bottles strewn around but it looked as if nobody had been there in a long time.

“Get out.”

She didn’t move. He tugged her out of the car and yanked off his belt. Her eyes welled with tears. She began to tremble. He expected her to beg but she didn’t.

She was ballsy, all right. He had to give her that.

Matthew wrapped the belt around her wrists and dragged her over to a tree.

“Think about what you’re doing,” she said. “Killing me won’t solve anything.”

He looked at her, his eyebrows raised in surprise. She was serious. Who did she think he was? Some goon from the cartel, even though he’d told her Hamilton had sent him?

He could tell her the truth. That he wasn’t involved with the cartel and he certainly wasn’t going to kill her…but if that’s what she thought, let her. Her fear would make her malleable.

“I’ll do whatever I have to do,” he said coldly. And then, because the look in her eyes reminded him all too clearly of the life he’d once led, he cursed, went to her and dropped a hard, lingering kiss on her mouth.

Her soft mouth, trembling now with fear and damp with tears.

Desire flashed through him, hot as a poker and just as sharp. Matthew cursed again, stepped back and used the belt to secure her to the tree.

“Behave yourself,” he said sharply. “If you do, you’ll come through this okay. One last time, then. Where is it?”

She didn’t answer. He shook his head, went to the car and began systematically taking it apart. The obvious places first: glove box, console, the trunk.

Nothing.

The seat cushions were next. He slit them open with his pocketknife. Then he slashed the spare tire, tossed everything out of the trunk.

Still nothing.

There were other places to hide drugs. Inside the door panels. In secret compartments under t

he floor. But this was a rental vehicle. There wouldn’t be any secret compartments, and she hadn’t had time to get inside the door panels.

Matthew put his hands on his hips and gave the torn-up vehicle a long, appraising stare. He dumped everything back into the trunk. Then he walked to where he’d left Mia. He had to shake her up, but how?

Prison. A Colombian prison. You wouldn’t kennel a stray dog in those that he’d seen. Would she know that? Yes. He’d bet she would.

“Okay,” he said matter-of-factly, “that’s it. I’ve done what I can. You leave me no choice. I’ll have to take you back.”

“Back?” Her face paled. “To Hamilton?”

It wasn’t the answer he’d expected but the look in her eyes told him to go with it.