She assumed they were brothers because of the strong resemblance. Both had black hair and green eyes, though Braden’s were a lighter shade than the deep emerald of Ian’s. They obviously took their military training to heart because they were built like brick houses. Ian was taller than Braden, but Braden was the stockier, more muscular of the two.
Clearly they were the lesser of two evils. No, she wasn’t entirely sure of their motives or intentions, but she knew what her fate was with Ricardo. That in itself was good enough reason to go along for the ride. Ian had seemed appalled by her bruises, so maybe he wasn’t a complete dickhead.
She dragged a tired hand through her matted hair. Dried blood was smeared on her fingers, and her arm screamed as she tried to figure out how injured it was. It didn’t feel broken, but it was swollen. Just great.
Her ribs protested as she gently probed. Breathing was painful but not hindered. All in all, she was damn lucky to escape with only bruises.
She closed her eyes briefly and sucked in her breath. When she opened them again, Braden was staring back at her.
“You okay?” he asked in a tone that suggested he actually gave a damn.
“I’m fine,” she mumbled.
He turned to Ian as though she hadn’t spoken. “We need to stop. She’s a mess, and we need to make sure her injuries aren’t severe.”
She aimed a glare at the back of his head. Funny how he hadn’t appeared very concerned with the severity of her injuries when he’d tossed her over his shoulder and bounced her to hell and back.
On the other hand, if they didn’t stop, she couldn’t very well escape. Granted she’d like to be a little further away from Ricardo and company before she bolted, but she’d take whatever opportunity was presented.
Gabe sent us.
Why?
Did she want to know? And did it matter now that he was dead? She was on her own. Not that she hadn’t been for the last few years, but there had been comfort in knowing that Gabe was a phone call away, that if she really needed him, he would come.
Trust no one. Ever.
Gabe’s words came back to her. Words to live by.
She glanced toward Ian and Braden again as they went back and forth as to whether they were going to stop. She wasn’t a gut person when it came to forming opinions. Obviously she had the sense of a moron when it came to men. No, there wasn’t some nifty little feeling steering her emotions. She dealt in concrete evidence, and nothing had shown her that these men were anything but dangerous.
A pitiful little moan worked its way past her lips. She was careful to make sure her gaze was focused out the window, so they wouldn’t suspect she was paying them any attention. She even managed an appropriate wince as she moved her arm, not that she had to work too hard, because damn, it really did hurt.
She heard Ian sigh, and a few seconds later, he turned off the road. The headlights bounced over the wooded area as they came to a stop on the makeshift path.
“I don’t want to stop anywhere close to a town,” Ian said gruffly. “We’re only a couple hours from de la Cruz’s place, and I’ll feel better when we’re a lot further. We’ll get you cleaned up and checked out, and we’ll worry about finding better accommodations later.”
Said like she was a child in need of coddling after a bad fall. She blew out an exasperated breath and plotted her move. She studied the area. Lots of trees and brush. As best as she could tell, they’d already bypassed Nucla and Naturita and were probably approaching Norwood.
Their size was to their advantage, though she’d already proven she was faster when she had a good lead. But they weren’t injured, and she was.
Gabe sent us.
She closed her eyes. Yes, she wanted to know why, but at the same time, she couldn’t discount what Gabe had drilled into her head. Trust no one.
It had been proven to her over and over that trust was not something to be given lightly, if at all. She couldn’t even trust herself or her judgment, so how the hell was she supposed to hand her wellbeing over to complete strangers? Strangers who had drugged her, tied her and tackled her.
No thanks.
The SUV ground to an abrupt halt, jarring her uncomfortably. Before she could react, Ian got out and yanked open her door. As soon as he touched her, she shrank away.
His stare grew menacing, but it was clear he wasn’t angry at her. No, he was focused on her battered appearance with a frown that would scare the hell out of the boogeyman.
His touch grew gentle as he slid his hand up her arm. Then he simply reached in and picked her up off the seat. He carried her around back where Braden had popped the door.
“I’m afraid this will have to do,” Ian said as he lowered her to sit just above the bumper.
Her legs dangled over the edge of the truck, and he urged her to lie back. Panic set in as she processed the vulnerability of her position. Her hands flailed, but she found them restrained by his firm grip.
“Look at me, Katie,” Ian said in a quiet, firm tone.
She stopped for a moment, unwittingly lured by the strength in his voice. For just a moment, she felt safe. It had been so long since she’d gotten even a fleeting taste of what it felt like to live without fear that she grabbed on to the feeling and absorbed it hungrily.
His eyes bore into hers. “I won’t hurt you, at least not intentionally. We haven’t gotten off to the best of starts, but I’m not a bastard who beats up women.”
Her mouth went dry as his fingers slowly pulled at her shirt.
“Shine the flashlight over here, Braden,” he said.
Ian scowled when the beam of light hit the splotches of discolored flesh on her abdomen. In an effort not to make her uncomfortable, he tried to keep as much of her breasts covered as he could.
It amazed him that such a slender, slight woman would have so much in the boob department, and he couldn’t help that his gaze kept returning to the lush mounds. If he moved his finger at all, it would brush the soft underswell.
With gentle hands, he probed her ribs. She winced in a few spots, but it didn’t feel like she had broken anything. Satisfied that at worst she’d suffered painful bruising, he tugged down her shirt then turned his attention to her arm.
The area above her elbow and the elbow itself was swollen. He could tell it hurt when he moved it, but she remained motionless and stoic.
“This could use some ice,” he said as he carefully lowered her arm back to her side.
She averted her gaze. “I’ll be fine. It’s not broken.”
Braden reached out and ran his fingers lightly over her bruised cheek. His expression was bland, but Ian could see how tightly his jaw was drawn.
“What does Ricardo de la Cruz want with you, Katie?” Braden asked.
Her blue eyes became ice crystals. She visibly retreated behind a mask of indifference. It was a lot like watching a brick wall go up.
Ian pulled a T-shirt from one of the bags then opened a bottle of water. He poured it over one corner of the shirt and set to work wiping the dried blood from the cut on her hand.
She had small hands, dainty almost, and as soon as he made that observation he wanted to laugh. She was about as far from dainty as a woman could get.
When he was through cleaning the wound, he let his hands trail down her leg until he got to her foot. It was dirty, and there was a large cut on the bottom. It had to hurt like hell.
He felt her tremble when he began wiping at it, and he glanced back up at her to see that she’d relaxed her guard somewhat. Pain glittered in her eyes, and he was gripped by an odd, fierce rage for what she’d endured.
How the hell did he know she wasn’t some drug-running floozie in league with de la Cruz? For all he knew, he and Braden had walked into the middle of a lover’s quarrel. Still, no matter what her sins were, no woman deserved to be a man’s punching bag.