Hell Breaks Loose (Devil's Rock #2)(19)

“That’s exactly what you promised,” she said in affront—as though his lying somehow shocked her and was the final indignity. “You promised to keep me safe.”

“I did. You’re safe for the moment.”

“For the moment?” she flung back at him, the volume of her voice climbing. Again, not super heartening. “The best way to keep me safe would be to get me out of here. Like you promised!”

He glanced over his shoulder as though expecting someone to be standing there. Seeing nothing (or no one), he stepped closer, his voice a sandpaper growl. “Do me a favor, princess. Do us both a favor. Quit saying I promised to keep you safe if in fact you want that to be a reality.” He let those words hang between them.

As his meaning sank in, she looked over his shoulder to the shut door. Understanding dawned. He was concerned with the men outside this room, too. He couldn’t control them. For the time being, they were tethered animals. If they should become free—if they decided to direct their savagery on her—there was nothing he could do.

It was a grim, sobering thought.

They definitely didn’t need to hear her shouting that he had promised to keep her safe.

Pressing her lips together, she nodded jerkily. “I understand,” she said, her voice much more subdued.

“Here’s what we’re going to do,” he said as he moved to one of the dressers she had examined earlier and started rifling through it. She braced herself, trying to control the sudden surge of satisfaction at his use of “we.” She couldn’t help it. It lessened her fear. Made her feel not quite so alone in this nightmare. It made her feel like she had a friend. An ally.

He pulled out some T-shirts and jeans, holding them up as though verifying whether they would fit him well enough. He was a big guy. She didn’t imagine he could wear the clothes of the guys in the other room. He was apparently satisfied with what he found, however. He moved to the closet, pulled out a duffel bag and dropped it on the bed.

“I’m getting you out of here,” he announced as he started stuffing clothing into the bag. “We’re going to leave—” At her relieved expression, he stopped and held up a finger in warning. “Try not to look so excited. You’re supposed to be afraid of me, remember? When I haul you out of this room, you better look terrified.”

She nodded. “Who says I’m not?”

He smiled then, slowly, mocking. To her mortification, she knew he was remembering last night and just how very unafraid of him she had been in that bed. “Sure you are.” He slung the bag over his shoulder and snatched up the cord from yesterday. “Hold out your hands.”

She hesitated, shaking her head slowly from side to side as he approached her. She didn’t want to be restrained again. Her wrists were still sore from the last time. “I don’t want—”

“Come on. Thought you were going to trust me. I can’t have you skipping behind me like we’re suddenly friends. You need to be tied up again.”

He made sense, but that didn’t make her feel any better. In fact, it made her feel sick.

His stare fixed on her face, unwavering in its intensity.

“All right,” she agreed, holding herself still as he looped the cord around her neck and then her outstretched hands. He wrapped the cord several times around her wrists in a figure eight until it was so snug she couldn’t freely move her hands. He left a long stretch of cord dangling. She had to know what he was going to do with it before he even picked up the end, but that didn’t stop her flush of shame as he took that end in his hand and led her like a dog.

He opened the door, but before walking out, cast her a look full of silent warning, and something else. Something that made the back of her nape prickle, something that made her wonder if he really was the lesser evil.

Turning back around, he stepped into the hall. She sucked in a deep breath and followed him out.



More guys were awake and stirring when he emerged from the back of the house with Grace Reeves. He schooled his features into that mask he always wore. The hard look that warned no one to f*ck with him. That was more important than ever here. Now. His ability to walk out with her was at stake. She was at stake.

He sent her a quick glance. The stench in the room was so foul that she brought her bound hands up to cover her nose. Yeah, her nose probably only ever smelled roses and fancy soaps. This place wasn’t for her. These men shouldn’t even be in her radius. He shouldn’t be either, and yet here he was, leading her around by a leash. He felt like the biggest bastard, which in all the years of his life was saying something.

“Lookee there.” A guy he didn’t know stepped alongside her and picked up a thick lock of her flowing hair, rubbing the dark, matted strands between his grimy fingers. A growl rumbled up from his chest.

It took everything in him not to lunge at the jackhole. Break him. He resisted, knowing that would raise more than a few eyebrows. He shouldn’t care so much about one female.

“She looks well-used.”

The words lit something feral inside him.

Grace’s mouth curled in a grimace and she knocked the guy’s hand away with her bound hands, those brown eyes sparking fire. The guy scowled and made a move toward her, his hand raised as though he was going to strike her.

Reid snapped. He moved quickly, yanking her behind him with a sharp tug. He didn’t care how it looked. Then he grabbed the guy’s hand and brought it down with a severe twist. The guy howled.