The Vargas Cartel Trilogy (Vargas Cartel #1-3)(41)

“Evan?” I questioned, my heart sputtering inside my chest.

“That’s who you were talking to on the phone when I found you.” His jaw twitched, and anger flashed across his face, contorting his even features.

The air around me stagnated as I searched the suddenly blank slate of my mind for something to say. “How did you know?”

“I heard you.” He rubbed his hand over the dark stubble coating his cheeks.

“What did you hear?” I shifted my head to the side, pretending I didn’t care what he did or didn’t hear, that I didn’t have anything to hide, that my heart wasn’t about to split my ribcage in half.

Ryker moved forward, dropping his hands on my shoulders, and pulling my body against his. “Are you playing games? We both know what you said. Don’t act like you can’t remember.”

“Games?” I echoed, frozen in the prison of his loose embrace. To everyone in the village, we probably looked like a happily married couple sharing a tender moment, but hostility crackled between us.

“You said you’re going to give Evan another chance.” Danger and maybe jealousy glittered in his dark eyes. No, it couldn’t be jealousy. Ryker didn’t care what I did with Evan. We both knew this thing between us ended the minute he released me.

“I said I’d try. I didn’t promise it’d work.”

He reached up and brushed his hand through my short hair, tugging lightly on the tangled strands. “You shouldn’t have called him. It complicated things.”

“You don’t know that.” Even as I said it, my stomach revolted with the truth. It probably did complicate things. I told Evan I had escaped, and then he heard Ryker. Evan was likely crazed with worry, not to mention my friends and family.

“Don’t play dumb.” He brushed a kiss across my forehead…probably for our audience. The tips of his fingers trailed up my neck and then he cupped my face. “I was in the middle of negotiating a prisoner swap. When my prisoner escaped, I lost my leverage.”

“Evan probably heard you, so he knows I didn’t go far.”

“You’re wrong,” Ryker replied shaking his head. “Ignacio said negotiations have stalled until I can produce your pretty face for a live video conference again.”

I tore my face from his grasp. “Great. Another reason Ignacio should’ve sent someone to get us tonight.”

“No, that’s another reason you won’t defy me again. Every rebellion equates to more days before you can go home.”

“Home,” I whispered.

“Yes, home. You’re going home soon as long as you listen to me.”

“I know.” And I did, but part of me didn’t want to let him go…yet. In one of my college psychology courses, I’d learned that some kidnapping victims developed a bizarre bond with their jailer as part of the victim's psychological survival defense mechanism. I think my professor called it traumatic bonding. Maybe I could attribute my growing attachment to Ryker to a simple trick of human psychology, which meant my feelings would fade with time and reflection. Part of me wanted that to be true, and part of me mourned the impending loss of my connection with Ryker. I rubbed my hands over my face. I was broken…well and truly broken. Dammit.

“I’m glad we understand each other,” he said before he scooped me up into his arms. “Let’s get some rest.”

Ten minutes and as many Spanish greetings later, Ryker set me down on a narrow bed. I didn’t waste a second before I pulled the brightly colored blanket over my body. Nubby balls covered the sheets, and the blanket scratched my already bruised and battered skin. Even camping in a sleeping bag would have been better, but at that moment it felt like heaven. I could sleep for days. I rolled to my side and tucked my hands under my pillow, my eyes already heavy with sleep.

Ryker closed the flimsy door and secured the hook and eye latch, not that the flimsy metal contraption would bar anyone from entering. It might slow them down a fraction of a second.

He sat down on a pine rocking chair in the corner, removed his black leather loafers and slipped the gun out of the holster under the hem of his shirt. “Do you want me to turn off the light?”

“Yes. Do you want the blanket?” I asked, realizing he didn’t have anywhere to sleep.

“No.” He flipped the light switch, and I couldn’t see anything, but I felt Ryker. Every inch of my skin prickled as he moved closer and closer to me. The bed dipped as he sat on the edge of the bed. I rolled away from him, trying to ignore his nearness, which was easier said than done. Then, he slipped under the blanket next to me, cocooning me in his embrace, and I couldn’t ignore him regardless of how hard I tried.

“Why are you in bed with me? It’s too small.” I tossed his arm off my body, but he didn’t even hesitate for a second before clamping his arm around my waist again, tethering me to him even tighter than before.

“It’s better than the floor.”

“But I’m using it.”

“So am I,” he answered. “Now, be quiet and go to sleep while you have the chance. At this point in time, I don’t have an ulterior motive, but I could always change my mind.”

“Fine. But keep your hands in a safe zone,” I warned.

He slipped his hand under my shirt, his fingertips less than an inch from my breasts. I sucked in a breath. “Is this a safe zone?” he said, his warm breath skimming the side of my face.