Unshackle (Deliver 7)
Luke’s hand never left her, his fingers tickling her neck and gently working the tangles from her curly hair. She drifted into a peaceful place, listening to Romeo explain the rest.
He was the hero, after all. Without him, she wouldn’t have been able to enter the armory or move through the compound undetected. He’d manipulated each camera they’d approached so that the guards in the monitoring room wouldn’t suspect a breach.
“I’ll be honest,” Romero said. “Her plan scared the shit out of me.”
“It was reckless.” Luke gave her hair a scolding tug.
“Shut up,” she mumbled. “It was brilliant.”
“You saved us a lot of time.” Cole leaned forward, arms braced on knees.
The vertical frown lines between his eyes were more prominent than the downturn of his lips. His thick brown beard did a good job of hiding the subtleties in his expression, which was probably a calculated effort. But no amount of hair could conceal the beautiful symmetry of his features.
“When you contacted us,” he said, “we were at least two or three days away from isolating your location. You saved a lot of innocent lives.”
“And ended a lot of evil.” Luke’s fingers tightened in her hair.
“It was all her. I was just doing what she asked.” Romero blushed, looking sheepish. “She was pretty convincing once she started talking about how I could earn back my freedom by joining a movement against human sex traffickers. When I got involved with La Rocha, I knew they were criminals, but I didn’t know about the girls and the slave buyers and everything that went on at the compound. I really had no idea what I was getting into until it was too late.”
He told them about his family in Mexico, their poverty and sickness, and his desperation to help them. He’d been naive, just like her, and they’d both paid the price.
Romero had been imprisoned in his concrete room at the estate for two years, designing and maintaining the proprietary technology that secured the property. Only Silvia and her brothers had access to his room.
Vera would bet her last dollar that Silvia had raped the poor kid. Frequently.
“They threatened to butcher my family,” he said. “I left my parents two years ago, promising to send them money. They haven’t heard from me or seen a single dollar since I left.”
“We’ll take care of them, kid.” Lucia looked up from her laptop and winked. “You’re one of us now. Tu familia es nuestra familia.”
Your family is our family.
Vera felt that in her bones, and it made her eyes heat and dampen. Luke was taking her to her sister, bringing her into his tight-knit family, and giving her a home.
He was offering her a world of tangible dreams and possibilities.
“I’m sorry it took me so long to show up.” With her head in his lap, she reached up and cupped his scratchy, chiseled jaw. “Romero and I didn’t come to an agreement right away. I didn’t trust him not to use one of his devices to notify the cartel.”
“And I didn’t trust her not to smash in my skull.” Romero released an anxious laugh.
“We eventually worked out a fragile truce. Then we spent hours ironing out a plan.” Guilt riddled her. “I took too long.”
“You showed up.” Luke slid a thumb across her cheek.
“Not soon enough.”
“I’m alive, Vera. With all my body parts intact.”
Her throat tightened at the memory of Marco holding pruning shears when she’d charged in.
“I saw the instrument Silvia used on you.” She lowered her voice. “You should let the doctor examine you.”
“What instrument?” Tate asked.
“Strap-on.” Luke met his friend’s eyes. “It had been a while since…”
“Eight years, man.” Tate blew out a breath. “It’s not easy to relive a second time, is it?”
“No, but I remembered the training, everything Van taught us. It helped.”
“Are you injured?”
“It’s minor. I’ll heal.”
She watched their interaction, recalling everything Luke had told her about the captives in Van’s attic. The nine of them shared such horrific memories, but she found comfort in the ease in which they could talk about it.
Lucia set her laptop aside and crawled onto Tate’s lap, wrapping her arms around him and nuzzling her face in his neck.
For a group of vicious killers, their empathy was palpable, their deep friendships undeniable. Vera respected them for that. Quite frankly, she was in awe of how these proud, dominant males could undergo such trauma and not lose themselves on the other side of it. Some victims never recovered.
“I betrayed you, Vera.” Luke’s roughened voice drew her gaze.
“What?”
“Silvia…put hands on me. Her mouth.” His jaw went rigid. “My body reacted. I couldn’t control—”
“Did you want her? Did you give your consent?”
“No. Fuck, no. But I wasn’t strong enough to—”
“Don’t forget who you’re talking to, Luke.” She pushed herself up to meet him at eye-level. “I was raped for three years. You don’t have to convince me you didn’t want it. I’ve been there.”