Page 73 of Never Wed an Outlaw

I watched him sink it into the open pomegranate, pulling a juicy red seed out on the tip. Several goons put their arms on me, pushing me back onto the bed. Pain ripped through my lower abdomen.

I looked down and saw blood. Emptiness. Something torn from me while I was knocked out.

Oh, God. Where's my baby?

I squirmed frantically. One of the men growled in my ear, pushed me down harder, clapped his dirty hand over my mouth, before I could scream.

“Easy, peach. You're not doing anybody a favor, flapping around like a fish out of water.” Dom's dark eyesfocused on me while he leisurely fed more blood red fruit into his mouth. “You're wondering where he is, yeah?”

He?My heart skipped in my chest, confused, unsure if I should be celebrating my son if they'd murdered him.

“Will, go grab the kid, and show her.” The other goon who'd helped force me down walked into the bathroom.

A few seconds later, he strolled out with a baby carrier in his hand, the soft, sleepy little life I'd brought into the world tucked into a blanket. I let my eyes take him in, oblivious to the horror around us for a moment, marveling at the miracle I'd created with the man I missed more than anything.

“Take a good, long look, peach, because it's gonna be one of your last. Soon as you can walk, we're hitting the road. Whole fuckin' highway's crawling with cops. You brought them out of the woodwork, making us get so rough at the hospital.”

I looked at my baby helplessly. Why didn't this seem completely real?

Adrenaline swirled in my system, kicked my nerves every time I moved. But the pain, the happiness at seeing my son, and the hideous gravity of this situation painted everything in a surreal gloss. I lifted a hand, touched my head, and realized I was burning up.

Fever. Weakness. No wonder it didn't take much for the goons to force me down, no matter how much I tried to kick and scream.

“Please. Not Seattle. It's so cold this time of year...”

I stared at my baby, more worried about keeping himsafe than catching pneumonia in the cold, gloomy Pacific Northwest. My infant son snuggled into his blanket, trying to burrow into the covers, hiding from the chill in the room. The bastards surrounding us were all wearing thick leather jackets.

It was cool here, but Texas was hardly a death sentence. Further north, that might be a different story, trapped with these reckless animals pretending to look after us.

Dom smiled. So evil, so smug, so vicious I wished I could just reach up, and tear his lips clean off his face.

“What? Why're you looking at me like that? Just fucking tell me,” I sputtered, noticing how weak my voice sounded. He had to lean just to hear me.

“You're getting real flustered over nothing, peach. Lucky you, we're not going to Seattle.” He paused, letting the mystery torture me. “We're heading for Miami.”

“Miami?” I shook my head. “What? There's nothing any of us want there.”

“Correction,” he said, holding up another pomegranate seed on his knife. “There's a big black market for kids.”

I glared through my weakness, rage filling my veins instead of fear. “Fuck you, Dominick. You're not even funny.”

“Peach, peach, we've worked together long enough to know I'm no comedian. You might laugh at the buyer I have in mind. Funny little man with an accent, he talks a lot about this island out in the Caribbean where a bunch of rich freaks pay good money to dance around naked and dress up in Druid robes. Some kind of cult for bored, highclass assholes. I think it's just one big frat house for spoiled fucks into voodoo. Anyway, they pay good money for the fleshbags they sacrifice there on the big night, before they get too deep in the drugs and fucking their whores. They'll paydoublefor kids. Can't say I give a fuck if my man's making it up – and maybe he is – all I know is he's paid me top dollar before when I sold off a few girls. He's an A-plus buyer. We've got ourselves a rare opportunity to collect on your debt in one sweet deal, and we're gonna take it.”

I screamed, my strength returning. It took three of his goons to hold me down while I kicked, banging my head against their shoulders. I bit into one asshole's hand and tasted iron. Snarling, he punched me in the jaw, forcing my teeth off his skin.

They overpowered me eventually, cuffing one hand to the bedpost, high over my head. It wouldn't take long for my arm to go numb, preventing any more accidents.

“Fuck's sake, peach, you're acting like a brat,” Dom said calmly, chewing more blood fruit. “You fucked me over, you understand? Got two of my boys killed. I'm man enough to let you live...in a sense. You'll be sold off for my time and suffering, but that funny little man I mentioned isn't interested. Broads with too much kick aren't really his type. We'll find you a buyer, peach, and you'll get to live out your days sucking, fucking, and maybe using your skin as an ashtray for your new owner. Pretty damned easy, considering a little fuckin' coding was too much goddamned work!”

He roared the last part. When I opened my eyes again,he stood over me, glaring like the maniac he was. He slapped me, and the room spun.

I thought I'd black out. Maybe it would've been sweet mercy.

But my baby's crying kept me awake. “No!”

I reached out for the child I hadn't even named, helplessly moving my hands, crying out for Dusty as much as I wanted a miracle.

“Get that goddamned kid out of here. Spike the fuckin' formula, whatever it takes to shut him up.” Growling, Dom hurled his half-eaten pomegranate at the floor. Seeds scattered across cracked wood and hit the walls like tiny shrapnel.

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