They needed to view Katie as a key to a cure, to figuring out how to rid themselves of the beasts lurking inside, waiting to be released at any moment. If they did that, they could put up with any amount of inconvenience.
And really, if they couldn’t handle one slip of a woman, they needed to fucking quit anyway.
Chapter Six
Katie lay on Ricardo’s big bed with a sense of purpose. Even as pain whipped and coiled through her body, her mind focused on what had to be done.
She shifted and sucked in a painful breath as the movement jarred her abdomen. Ricardo had enjoyed watching as his men hit her. But that wasn’t as bad as what he planned next.
He wanted her helpless and hurting, completely at his whim and mercy. His men had carried her to Ricardo’s bed and left her. He was going to rape her. There was no pretense, no false arrogance that told him she really wanted him and would welcome his advances. He didn’t want that. He enjoyed inflicting pain and humiliation. Her enjoyment would ruin the experience for him.
Her gaze fastened on the one window. Her escape route. Few of the other rooms had windows, but here in Ricardo’s domain, there was a large picture window overlooking the rugged terrain of the Uncompahgre Plateau.
She heard his footsteps, and she tensed in anticipation. She would escape or force him to kill her, but either way, he wouldn’t have her, would not take from her by force what she wasn’t willing to give.
She’d spent the last two years running, constantly looking over her shoulder, and for what? So she could end up Ricardo’s whore until he tired of torturing her?
Fuck him and fuck that.
He appeared at the foot of the bed in a silk robe. How cliché was that? Clearly the man had watched too many mafia movies.
There was nothing put-on about the look of lust that crowded his eyes or the way he stared at her. The lapels of his robe parted as he pulled at the silk and let it fall to the floor.
He was aroused, but violence had always been a huge turn-on for him. Katie was convinced that he couldn’t get it up unless he inflicted pain.
She shrank into the bed, careful to affect the pitiful, injured look she was trying to maintain. Let him see her fear. It would only make him more confident of his power. He underestimated her. He always had.
The bed dipped under his weight as he climbed onto the mattress. She didn’t move. She waited.
She adopted an appropriate look of meekness and fear. When he reached out to touch her, she held back the flinch.
“I told you to undress,” he said in a menacing whisper.
Yeah, he had, but she couldn’t very well escape naked.
“But I’m glad you didn’t,” he continued on as his fingers trailed up her arm. “I rather like the idea of tearing your clothes off myself.”
Just a little further, asshole. Just a little further.
She held her breath as he leaned forward. His engorged cock brushed against her hip, and she bolted into action.
She grabbed his erect penis in one hand and twisted violently. She smashed her other hand into his nose.
His howl of pain was immediate. She rolled until they both fell onto the floor, her on top of him, her hand still wrapped tight around his dick and balls.
Not giving him any time to recover, she leaped up, grabbed the lamp off the bedside table and smashed it over his head as hard as she could.
He went limp.
She didn’t take even a second to savor her victory. She lunged for the bedroom door, flipping the bolt to lock it. His men would have heard him bellow and would be beating down his door in a matter of seconds. She needed those precious seconds.
After securing the door, she went back to the bed and yanked the comforter off. She moved toward the window, wrapping the blanket around her body as she went.
The window didn’t open. She’d already tried it. So the only way out was through it. She just hoped she didn’t break anything in the fall from the second story.
Desperate times and desperate measures and all that jazz. Yeah, stop thinking about it. Just go.
She backed from the window, clenched the blanket tighter around her and took off running. When she got to the window, she jumped, ramming her body as hard against the glass as she could.
It shattered on impact. For a moment, it felt as though she was suspended, but the air rushed over her face and a second later, she hit the ground with a resounding thump.
Pain speared through her body. Her arm. God, the one she landed on. It hurt like a mother. She hoped to hell she hadn’t broken it.
There was no time to take stock of her injuries or lack thereof. She scrambled to her feet, wincing when she cut her hand on one of the many shards of glass surrounding her.
She discarded the blanket and took off through the courtyard toward the stone barrier surrounding Ricardo’s estate. She held her bleeding hand against her shirt so she wouldn’t drip on the ground.
It wasn’t going to be easy to get over that wall but then what the hell had been easy for her so far?
She lowered her arm and took a running start. When she got to the wall, she leaped, doing a quick run up the stones. Her momentum carried her up, and she grasped the ledge with her fingers. Barely.
She hung there for several long seconds, catching her breath and praying she didn’t fall. Her hands ached, and she couldn’t even feel her fingers as she clawed for better leverage.
Her feet swinging, she boosted her body until she managed to scrape her elbows over the top, and then she used her arms to haul herself the rest of the way up.
As she rolled over the side, part of the stone by her head exploded, sending sharp pieces of rock into her face and neck. It took her a second to realize she was being shot at.
She dropped over the other side and took off running. She ignored the pain, her injuries, the fact that she had no shoes and that her clothing offered little protection from the bushes and shrubbery she flung herself through.
Only one thing mattered. Escape.
Sucking in mouthfuls of air, she ran, dodging tree branches and jumping over rocks. She didn’t know where she was running. That didn’t matter. As long as she was away from Ricardo, she could figure out the rest later.
She topped a slight rise and paused only to work the stitch out of her side before she started down again. She skidded to a halt when a large man stepped directly into her path.
A frightened moan escaped her lips. God, not him again. She glanced frantically around for the other one and sure enough, he was circling behind her.
Against Ricardo she had a fighting chance. Though bigger than her, he had a slim build. These two? Hulking masses of muscle-bound humanity. She’d bounce off them like a quarter.
She tightened her shoulders. No matter what, they weren’t taking her down without a fight, and she damn sure wouldn’t let them get close enough to drug her again.
Ian’s gaze traveled over Katie’s tense body as Braden circled behind her. He didn’t miss anything. Not the bruise on her cheek, the bruises around her neck and the fingerprint-shaped bruises marring her upper arms.
Her blue eyes were wild with fear—and determination.
He put a placating hand out. “Now, Katie—”
He couldn’t even get the words past his lips before she was off like a shot. Braden cursed as he gave chase. Ian took off after her as well. The last thing they needed was a damn long pursuit when de la Cruz’s men were going to be after them.
This was not how this was supposed to go down. They were supposed to go in, shooting anything that moved, and haul her out on the route they’d planned. She wasn’t supposed to have already escaped with Ricardo’s men all still accounted for. Difficult wench.