Page 94 of Savage Redemption

She turns to regard me. “Why do you ask?”

“I’m interested. You’re good. I wouldn’t be the only one to think so.”

She shrugs. “Iwasgood. Now, I’m out of practice.”

“Who says?”

“Me. I just know. It’s too late for…”

“For what?”

“For all of that.”

“I’m no expert, but what do your parents think?”

“They say I’m good, but they would, wouldn’t they?”

“Who do you need to hear it from,cara,for you to believe it?”

She shrugs. “I don’t know. Someone who… who doesn’t know me.”

“So why not try? Audition somewhere.”

She shakes her head. “It’s too late,” she repeats. “Just drop it. Please.”

There’s more, I know it, but she’s already clamming up. I opt to change the subject. “Where would you like to go? Once we leave here.”

“I don’t know. Where do you usually live?”

“All over. I go where the business is. Most recently that was Hong Kong, then Glasgow. I wasn’t especially fond of Glasgow. Too fucking cold for my liking.”

“Of course, you grew up in Spain. Don’t you have a home?”

“Not really. Not yet. New York might be good. We could get a nice apartment, with a garden for Erin.”

“I don’t want to go back to New York. Or anywhere in the US.”

Shit! I should have remembered. Of course she doesn’t.

“Maybe Canada, then,” I suggest. “Toronto.”

She shrugs. “That’s also a bit chilly, I think. Wherever. Just, not America. I want a dog.”

“A dog?”

“Yes. A big one. I had a dog when I was a kid. Barney. He was huge. I loved him.”

“What happened to him?” I ask.

Her eyes glisten. “He died. Old age. Not that long ago, not long before I was abducted.”

“What sort of dog was he?”

“I’m not sure. A mongrel. My uncle is a vet, and he said he thought he had a bit of Newfoundland in him and maybe St Bernard. He was a rescue. It was the best day of my life when mydad took me to the kennels and we adopted him.” She pauses, chews on her lip, then, “No. It was the second-best day. The best was when my mum and dad got married and he adopted me. I was only very little, but I had a lovely new dress.”

She’s caught me on the back foot. “You’re adopted?”

“Yes. My mum died a few days after their wedding, so it was just him and me from then on. Oh, and my nana. Mrs Richardson, our housekeeper.”

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