Page 11 of Damaged

“I don’t understand?—”

I was so angry that I jerked my head so I was looking him right in the eye and snapped, “You know my name. I never told you what it was, so that means you talked to Jace or one of his friends—the ones who brought me here!”

I already knew Dalton was guilty but to see him drop his eyes had me wanting to cry. Tears wouldn’t do anything—I’d learned that a long time ago when I’d begged Ivan to take me back to my parents after he’d raped me the first time—so I refused to allow the ones that were currently stinging the backs of my eyes to fall.

What I couldn’t keep myself from doing was studying Dalton’s profile as he stared at the floorboard of the still-running car. He was considerably larger than me and definitely more heavyset. Physically, he reminded me of the men who’d been in charge of taking Ivan’s girls to and from their “dates,” but that was where the similarities ended. Like when I’d been changing inside the car and had looked at him, he’d turned his body so that there would be no possibility of him seeing me as I’d changed. He’d remained there even as he’d shifted his weight back and forth on his feet… like he was uncomfortable.

Physically uncomfortable.

But he’d stood there patiently and hadn’t uttered a word for me to hurry up.

I reminded myself that I didn’t care. I’d trusted this man even if I hadn’t fully understood why, but this whole time he’d been driving me into a trap.

How could I have been so stupid, so careless? Despite the rain that had soaked through every layer of the only clothing I owned—the only thing I owned—I’d been free.

Truly free.

Scared shitless about what was to come but fucking free.

When Dalton didn’t respond to me and even refused to look at me, I turned and began searching for the door handle. As soon as I found it, I reached for it, but the door wouldn’t open when I pulled on the handle.

Panic rushed through me. Some of Ivan’s vehicles had been like this. I’d always been in the back seat, but I knew it was the same thing. Only the driver controlled the doors. No matter how many times I’d tried to open those doors to attempt escape early on when I’d been a kid, they never had, no matter how many times I’d pulled the handle.

I didn’t bother to try it again because I knew it wouldn’t get me anywhere, and there were so many buttons on the door that I had no clue which one to try.

“Let me out,” I demanded. Even if there were a dozen men waiting to pounce as soon as I got out of the car, there were enough people around that if I screamed my head off, my attackers would surely be forced to let me go.

“I spoke to Jace shortly after you fell asleep. I knew he’d be worried about you?—”

“You’re a liar!” I snapped as I stared at all the buttons on the car door. None of the symbols made sense. Some had numbers, some had what looked like little pictures.

“That I am,” I heard Dalton say on a sigh.

His admission had me pausing in my search and turning to look at him in surprise.

“Jace and Caleb and all those men and women at the funeral are so fucking grateful to you, Silver. What you did for Willa…” Dalton shook his head. “Jace never stopped believing his sister was alive. He followed up on every lead he ever came across, and I was there when he came home without her. I think deep down he knew he would never see her again, but I have no doubt that he sees her every day in that baby’s eyes.”

I saw a fleeting smile grace the man’s mouth despite the neatly trimmed beard that covered his lower jaw, chin, and just above his lips. The beard, while not bushy, even continued up on each side of his face until it nearly met his hair. I felt a little twitch of curiosity go through me as I studied it. What would it feel like? Would it be soft or rough to the touch? How would it feel against my skin if he?—

What the hell?

The inner voice reminding me where I was and what was about to happen was a brutal wake-up call.

“Why are you telling me this?” I asked even as I thought about Willa’s chubby face. I hadn’t taken care of Maggie’s daughter for very long after we’d made our daring escape from Ivan’s compound, but it hadn’t mattered. I’d fallen in love with that baby the moment I’d held her in my arms. Her trusting blue eyes had most definitely been Maggie’s.

All thoughts of escaping the vehicle fled as my memory shifted to the day that I’d betrayed Ivan and helped Maggie and her baby make their escape.

“I couldn’t save them both,” I heard myself whisper. Those damn tears were back but my body instinctively held them at bay, something I was extremely grateful for because I’d never felt more like letting go of the emotions that consumed me whenever I thought of that moment when I’d had to choose between Maggie and her child.

“What happened?” Dalton asked, his voice soft and gentle.

I tried to remind myself that I’d already told this man—this man who’d deliberately set a trap for me—too much but it was like my mouth was on autopilot.

“They were going to sell Willa. I didn’t even really understand what that meant until Maggie explained it to me. There’s some kind of… um… place or something where they could sell her…”

I struggled to remember the words.

“It’s called the black market,” Dalton supplied. “White babies with American heritage are sold to people who can’t or won’t adopt a child through normal means. They can sell for tens of thousands of dollars, maybe even more depending on how desperate the buyer is or how the baby looks.”

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