Page 75 of Tactical Lies

Before she could, a foot planted itself on her back, holding her down, and laughter echoed over the raging storm outside.

She wasn't stupid, she knew what was going to happen to her.

Same thing that would have happened to her in Cambodia if Connor hadn't gotten them out of that camp before it could.

“Made it so easy for us,” one of them taunted.

When she tilted her head as shoes stepped into her line of vision, she saw a man spinning the weapon she’d stupidly set on the ground when she found the blood and forgot to pick back up.

How could she do that? If she’d kept hold of it at least she might have stood a chance.

Connor would be so disappointed in her.

Tears of frustration burned the backs of her eyes. She knew better than to make such a silly mistake, and yet she’d been so focused on her fear for Connor, of losing him, that she hadn't been able to think of anything else.

Now Connor might die because of her stupidity.

If he was out there somewhere bleeding out and in need of first aid he wasn't going to get it. She was trapped, a captive of these men who had been sent after them, and he was all alone out there in the pouring rain.

I'm sorry, Connor.

“You're prettier in person than in your picture,” another one told her as he knelt in front of her.

When he reached out toward her, Becca tried to shrink away, not wanting to feel more people touching her without her permission, but there was nowhere for her to go. The foot on her back held her in place, pressing hard enough that her healing ribs screamed for mercy.

Not that screaming or pleading for mercy would result in receiving any.

“Can you just wait one moment before you start drooling all over her,” another of the men snapped irritably. “We have all the time in the world. She’s not going anywhere, and neither is her boyfriend.”

Boyfriend. She liked hearing someone call Connor hers, but right now her fear for him stole any joy it might have given.

The men said Connor wasn't going anywhere, but was that because he was dead? Because he was too badly injured to fight back? Or because they already had him restrained and tucked away somewhere?

“Put her in a chair, I want to get out of these wet clothes, then we can get started,” another said, his tone lazy like he didn't have a care in the world.

Apparently, his word was law because the foot holding her down was suddenly gone and in its place were two sets of hands, grabbing her biceps and hauling her to her feet. Becca didn't even have a chance to get her bearings before she was shoved down into one of the solid wooden chairs that sat around the table. She’d sat in those chairs several times over the last couple of days, enjoying the smooth wood and rustic look. She’d even wondered if Cade, or one of his brothers, had made them by hand.

Now it felt too big, too strong, and as her wrists and ankle were firmly attached to the arms and leg of the chair, she knew there was no way she’d be able to fight her way out of them.

Upright again, she was able to get a better look at her captors. All six men prowling around the room were big, but not as big as Connor. They were dressed all in black, and even if they hadn't lucked out with the timing of the storm they would have faded into the night.

Weapons hung from holsters on their hips, and the man who’d picked up the gun she had carelessly discarded was still spinning it on his finger even though she knew how dangerous that could be. He didn't seem to be worried about it, and when he saw she was looking at him he shot her a cocky grin.

“Can't wait to get my chance to play with you, beautiful,” he taunted, stepping closer. Eyeing the weapon he was so carelessly playing with, his smile turned sinister. “Never played with a girl and a gun before.” He snickered at his words. Then he shifted the weapon so it rested on the chair between her spread legs. “Could be fun,” he added, nudging the gun closer until the muzzle brushed against her center.

“Would you knock that off,” another of the men snapped, shoving the gun freak in the shoulder.

“Yeah,” another added. “We’re all supposed to get a turn before we hack her into pieces and have them delivered to the homes of her boyfriend’s brothers. You keep that up and you're likely to kill her too soon.”

Becca was still stuck on what was supposed to happen to her.

She was going to be viciously gang-raped, including with a gun if the sick look on the man’s face was anything to go by, he was all in with his new idea. Then her body was going to be cut up and sent to Connor’s family.

To Cade who had a little daughter who would be traumatized forever. To Cooper who had only just started a new relationship with a woman who had suffered at the hands of the people who had sent these men. To Cole who had likewise just started a relationship with another woman tormented by these men who thought they were untouchable. To Jake and Jax whose dad had been collateral damage and yet had never once backed away from supporting their stepbrothers in a hunt for answers.

That couldn’t happen.

But how could she stop it?

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