Page 7 of Ravaged Hearts

The immediate widening of my eyes must’ve conveyed my distress, because Vaughn added, “It’s okay. These men won’t bite. Not unless I let them.”

His words probably sounded like a warning for me to behave or I’d be passed around the room, but his eyes only confirmed his earlier words: He’d never let them touch me.

“Come.” Vaughn took my hand, urging me to stand. I winced as blood returned to my legs. Then he pulled me onto his lap, perching my ass upon one of his strong thighs.

What the hell was he doing? I was relieved to be freed from the painful kneeling pose but even more terrified to be seated at a table with la Mano Roja’s most powerful members.

Vaughn’s arm snaked around my waist, dragging me higher until my leg nudged his crotch. My hands flew to his shoulders to brace myself.

“Is that better?” he asked in an all-too-relaxed pose with the cigarette hanging from his lips. Lazily, he took another drag and tapped ash into a tray at the edge of the table.

I nodded because what else was I supposed to do? Growl at him to stop messing around? A slave would never get away with being so insolent.

“Remember our lessons,” Vaughn scolded as though talking to a naughty child. “Use your words when I ask a question.” Then he pinched my ass sharp enough to make me jump.

“Y-Yes. This is much better.”

He rubbed his temple and let out an exasperated sigh. “We really have a lot of work still to do, don’t we? Yeswhat, Gatita?”

Unfortunately, I knew what he wanted to hear.

Only Vaughn could see the way my eye twitched as I refrained from telling him he was being a monumental jerk, and calling out every asshole in this room on their horrid perversions.

I cleared my throat. “Yes…”

Vaughn raised his brows when I hesitated.

My throat tried to close over at the vulgarity of the word about to spill from my mouth. “Master.”

Sure, there were kinky folks who enjoyed using that term in the bedroom, and more power to them. But given my current situation and the fact that my family was responsible for destroying so many lives through human trafficking, I detested the power imbalance the wordmasterimplied.

For Christ’s sake, there was a naked woman in the corner locked in a cage just like the ones Dee and I transported large dogs in. These sons of bitches were messed up.

“There’s my good girl.” Vaughn beamed a shit-eating grinand patted my ass. “I do love hearing you say that. We’ll practice it some more later.”

I was going to murder him.

Vaughn returned his attention to Miguel. “Tell me about the job you have for me.”

El Capitán leaned back in his seat, but I felt his greedy eyes on my body like a coat of grime I’d have to scrub for hours to remove. “Espinoza needs us to move a larger than usual shipment. It’ll be a regular route. Once a month instead of a smaller one each week.”

Vaughn scratched his stubbly jaw. “I’m gonna need more details than that.”

“Pickup will be Colombia. Cali.”

“Destination?”

Miguel shook his head. “I’m not at liberty to tell you that yet.”

Vaughn butted out his smoke and took a sip of whiskey. “I need to know what fuel range I’m working with so I can select the most appropriate aircraft. A Globemaster will cost ten times what a Hercules does.”

Miguel hesitated a moment before answering. “Colima.”

“City or state?”

“You ask a lot of questions.”

“I’m thorough.” Vaughn’s tight-lipped smile hinted at his dissatisfaction with Miguel’s reluctance to give a clear answer.

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