Page 38 of Jericho

The idea of him putting fucking anything inside of her makes me want to rain hell down on everything the man has ever touched. I want to hurt him so badly that his fucking ancestors feel it from their goddamned graves.

I keep driving in the opposite direction from where I really need to go because I know she's being tracked, and I don't want Damien to get even a hint at where we're headed next.

"It can't be true, right?" she whispers. "Cattle are tagged, like livestock, not people."

"We live in a sick fucking world, Peach. You should know that more than most."

I don't have to look at her to know that she's offended by what I just said, but, honestly, the woman has been raised in a house full of criminals. Most folks only get a hint of what that life may be like from movies and shit. Most people aren't touched at all by the criminal world unless they're victimized.

I hate knowing how much of a risk it is to stop, eventually, but it has to be done. Mostly, I hate the idea of what I'll have to do if we find a tracker embedded in her skin.

"How?" she asks, her voice sounding far away since my pulse is raging in my ears. "When?"

"If he didn't hold you down and do it, it had to have been when you were unconscious or sedated. Does he... drug you?"

"Not that I know of," she responds. I despise the idea that he could be doing stuff to her without her knowledge or consent, but it doesn't surprise me. She mentioned cattle and livestock,but I think he sees her as even less. People are just one more thing for Damien Gaines to use and abuse.

"Have you ever had surgery? Been under anesthesia?"

"I had an emergency hysterectomy right after Eli was born because of hemorrhaging," she answers.

I swallow harshly. I know there's always been a level of danger and risk with her being a part of her father's criminal organization, but to hear how close she got to death makes my heart ache for not being there by her side.

"I don't know that he could pull off something like that, but it might've been possible while you were in recovery. What about dental work?"

"I had to have my wisdom teeth extracted three years ago. They did put me under since they were doing all four at the same time."

I watch as she lifts her hand up to her mouth. "Do you think that's where it is?"

I shake my head as I hit the brakes, spotting a small gravel road up ahead.

The SUV grinds to a stop, and I don't waste a second pulling off my seatbelt and opening my door.

"Let's go. We don't have much time."

I pull open the back hatch of the vehicle and grab the black bag that's there, pulling a small electromagnetic pulse meter from one of the compartments.

She steps forward, opening her mouth.

"No," I tell her. "Turn around. He'd put it somewhere that you wouldn't easily notice or be able to reach."

She turns, the cold air raising goose pimples all along her arms.

"Move the towel, Peach," I growl, hating the tone of my voice. Her being out here naked is awful, but Damien rolling up on us with half a dozen men would be worse.

Without argument, the towel pools around her feet, and I run the EMP reader up her spine, watching the color display stay on red until it flips to green at the base of her neck.

"It's here," I tell her, pressing my finger to the spot where the reading is the strongest.

"H-how do you g-get it o-out?" she stammers, probably from the cold and the fear associated with knowing something is going to have to be extracted from under her skin.

"Bend your neck forward."

I pull a scalpel and some gauze from the bag. I don't give her a warning before cutting the back of her neck. The sight of her blood blooming from the cut before rolling down her back makes me sick to my stomach. Her wince of pain makes me feel like the evilest person in the world.

"Got it," I tell her as I pull the tracker from her flesh, using a piece of gauze to hold the rice-sized device. "Hold this gauze here."

Her hand automatically reaches up and applies pressure to her wound.

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