To Save Sir (Doms of Decadence 7)

s rescue after Black-Gray had brought Raptor Inc. onboard. Travis owned Raptor Inc. and had overseas connections they didn’t. If it hadn’t been for Curt’s relationship with Jenna, Black-Gray probably wouldn’t have taken a job like this.

They were going to wait for the guard change then Curt, Travis, and his brother, Jace, would sneak closer, infiltrate the camp, disable the guard positioned in front of the hut where they figured Jenna was being kept, and sneak her out. Sounded easy, but it could all so easily turn to shit.

Please, let her be here—safe and sound.

He wasn’t going to consider any other alternative.

Jenna’s kidnappers sent photos to her father a week ago as proof of life, with demands for seven million dollars, but they hadn’t yet told him how they wanted to do the exchange. That wasn’t normal for a simple ransom demand. He could tell her father was hiding something but he didn’t know what. And he hadn’t really cared about anything except getting to Jenna.

He’d visited the village where she’d been staying, where she’d been working her ass off to help these people. The local police had already trampled over the scene and removed the bodies. Everyone had been murdered except Jenna.

She had to be so scared. Rage pounded at him as he remembered those photos of her, her eyes swollen, her nose bloody, and her clothes ripped. He was going to kill those bastards for hurting her.

“Curt? If your mind isn’t in the game no one will blame you, but I need to know before I let you in there.”

Before he let him? There was no way Curt was staying behind. This was Jenna. His Jenna.

But he knew he had to play the game. He’d been playing it for years, growing colder year after year as he’d buried the anger and pain deep. It had been years since he’d felt much of anything. Jenna was the only person who could bring out his emotions. The only person he truly cared about.

Oh, he cared about his team—his friends—and their women. He’d do anything for them. But what he felt for them wasn’t like this.

“I’m fine. I’m focused. Just want to get in there and get her out.”

He raised his own binoculars. He didn’t want ‘the talk”. He’d heard it several times. How she could be dead already. How they might be too late. That she might not even be there.

She was here, and he was getting her out. Today.

The next shift of guards arrived, and he tensed.

“Time to rock and roll,” Travis stated.

***

Something touched her shoulder, and she hit at it angrily. She was tired. She wanted to sleep. It was the only way she had of escaping. She knew it was a bad sign. She was growing weaker the more time she spent here, not eating and barely drinking. The darkness, the loneliness, and uncertainty played with her mind.

Another touch on her shoulder.

“Go away.”

“Sh, little bit, be quiet.”

Oh, she was still dreaming, because she knew that voice. And there was no way Curt would be here.

“Curt.”

“Quiet now, it’s me.” Hands ran over her body. Not rough, but not soft either.

A tremble shook her as his earthy scent filled her senses. This felt so real it was painful.

“Are you hurt?”

“This is a really good dream,” she said, reaching out to pat his face with her hands, surprised by how sluggish her movements were. She opened her eyes, but she still couldn’t see anything. Her fingers encountered his beard, and she ran them over it. “I always liked you with facial hair.”

“Did you?”

“We’re ready,” a strange, male voice said, and she tensed.

“Who else is here? Tell him to go away. I’m not into ménages.”