The woman had on a strong face, but her voice wavered as she said, “How can I tell you what I don’t know?”
This was getting him nowhere. The easiest way to get the human talking would be to use the special “soldier” the Collector had lent him. The blonde female Siren could sing a command and the human wouldn’t be able to resist; she’d be telling all of her secrets within seconds.
But the Siren had to rest her abilities between uses or risk losing her voice forever. Watkins would rather save her skills for something more important.
Instead, he nodded to his man standing above the woman’s head and said, “Again.”
The man lowered the cloth over the woman’s face and another man brought over a bucket of water. Once the man started pouring, he ignored the waitress’s struggles and turned toward the Siren. “Tell your mistress I’m going to need more soldiers, preferably ones that can help me capture someone with at least half a brain.”
The Siren nodded and exited the room. The Collector was as anxious as he to get rid of Luis Gomez. With him gone, she would have full access to the latent abilities in the area to fill out her army. Not only would it make the bitch happy, it would make Watkins a very rich and powerful man.
He turned back toward the waitress and signaled for his people to stop waterboarding her. Once the wet cloth was removed from Yolanda’s face, she started sputtering. He waited a second to avoid getting spit on before he leaned down, grabbed her hair, and yanked. Hard. “Last chance. Tell me what you know about Sabrina Ono and the coded message, or the next time I’ll let you drown.”
The woman shook her head. “I-I don’t have anything new to tell you.”
He released her hair and leaned back. He looked to his men. “Do what you will with her before you kill her. Report to me what you find afterward.”
The man nodded and Watkins turned away. Maybe once the men had raped her and cut her up a bit, she would start talking.
Sabrina tugged on the cloth restraints tied around her wrists and legs, but they held firm. The restraints were tied to the metal frame holding up the bed. She might be able to get free if she had a few hours, but she needed to get free as soon as possible. Jorge had ta
ken her phone and read her message. Yet the bastard hadn’t shared what the message had contained. If she didn’t reply soon, everything would be compromised.
True, things could be a lot worse. At least she was still alive.
Jorge had changed more than she’d thought. She started to believe what he’d said about the kinder, shyer version of Jorge Salazar being dead. He took what he wanted, didn’t hesitate, and was more straightforward than she’d ever hope to be. The drastic changes should make it easier to distance herself from him and use him as a tool.
But deep down, in a place she barely wanted to admit existed, she kind of liked the changes in him.
Between her time in Rio and here in Merida, she’d had to keep her head down and blend in or risk being discovered. After three years, however, she was getting tired of having to hide what she thought remained of her true personality.
Jorge might be frustrating as hell—and more than a little bit of an asshole—but it’d felt good to get angry and even dish out a few sarcastic quips. He would be able to handle anything she threw his way. Considering she’d irritated the hell out of her sister and parents with her tendency to argue and talk back as a child, standing up to her was quite an achievement.
The noise of shuffling furniture and random objects stopped and Sabrina watched the door. Sure enough, Jorge appeared and leaned against the doorjamb. “Well, at least you’re a smart one. I didn’t find anything remotely personal in the apartment.” He held up her cell phone. “The only real information I could find was on here.”
Remember, showing your anger will only make things worse. She took a calming breath and acted as if nothing were out of the ordinary. That should annoy Jorge. “And when do you plan on sharing that information with me?” She darted a glance to her restraints and back to his face. “I can’t do anything if Watkins sends a reply and I don’t answer.”
He moved to stand beside the bed and looked down at her. From her supine position, it was impossible to miss the strength in his shoulders or the determined look in his eye. This version of Jorge could be dangerous.
“The message wasn’t from Watkins, but some guy named Miguel.”
Okay, she hadn’t expected that answer. Miguel was her contact Yolanda’s boss. “What did he want?”
He sat on the edge of the bed and his knee brushed against her side. She nearly jumped at the touch—in a good way. Jorge didn’t seem to have noticed the way his casual touch branded her skin, and that irritated her. Why should his touch affect her and not him? She definitely didn’t need the distraction.
He brushed her with his leg again and it took everything she had to remain still as he answered, “Yolanda never came back from her break, and he was wondering if you knew where she was.”
Dread started to pool in the pit of her stomach. Yolanda’s disappearance was probably related in some way to Sabrina or her work. “Did he say anything else?”
He shook his head. “No. What aren’t you telling me?”
Time to stick close to the truth without giving it. “Yolanda was helping me with some information. The fact she disappeared right after you showed up tells me that someone saw us together, and my entire participation in Watkins’s assignment might be compromised.” She tugged on the restraints. “I need you to free me so I can try to salvage this situation. If Yolanda gets hurt because of your stupid-ass move, then I will never forgive you.”
“So now you have other people working with you?” He leaned down until his face was only a few inches from hers. “You’re still keeping something from me. Save us both some time and start talking.”
She growled. Screw liking this version of Jorge. “No. I’m not going to risk my friend’s life by wasting my time arguing with you. Let me go.”
Jorge leaned back and stood up. “No. I think you need some time to cool off and reconsider telling me what you know.”