Page 63 of Winters Heat

With a disgusted shove, he shut the door on Mia, enclosing her in the windowless room, alone. She’d take any small miracle. Alejandro abandoning her now would qualify as one.

The lock scraped closed and seemed to seal her fate. Alejandro was perched inches away, only a thick wooden door offering protection. Too bad he had the key. She could feel his evil aura. His boots didn’t retreat. Each heartbeat thumped in her ears, marking the anguishing passage of time. He wasn’t leaving. Her mouth went dry. Panic bubbled like acid in her stomach.

Go away.

The scuffing sound of movement dialed back the oxygen in the room. It was hard to breathe. Was he turning to her? Or from her? A shuffled step. Her mind played tricks. The sounds bounced. Her ear ached to hear what direction he would go.

Silence.

Please go away. Please.

Another footstep. Toward her or away? She still couldn’t tell.

Her lip trembled. Her hands covered her mouth to drown any wayward weep. Was she strong enough to handle whatever depraved plundering lurked in the sick depths of his psyche?

A sound again. It moved away, as he did. Every ounce of petrified anxiety tore from her chest, a heaving breath escaped. Mia doubled over, holding herself. Hot tears streamed down her cheeks.

Just kill me now.This was more than she could take. The room closed in, suffocating her. The air somehow thinned. She gulped at it. She was too weak. Nothing like Colby promised she was. How had she fooled him? It was pitiful how easy it was to back into the corner, begging for the easy way out.

Still holding herself, Mia sunk to the floor. The dim light illuminated the room, but her sight blurred through her sobs. She sniffled and wiped her nose with the back of her hand.

This sniveling stuff had to stop. Channel shock and awe. Find it. Do it. Now.

She traced a finger on the cold tile floor. The hysterical tears slowed to a stream. She could blink them away. Force them to stop. She had no choice. How the hell was she going to get out of this? She hadn’t come up with anything close to a bamboo bazooka.

A wisp of hair tangled over her wet cheek. Mia blew at it, banishing it back to place, but it stayed put. She didn’t make the effort again. Exhaustion weighted her eyelids, already puffy and swollen from irresponsible, self-pitying wails.

Juan Carlos and Alejandro yielded no information to aid her struggle of survival. She should have studied their interaction, searched for weaknesses, and built a psychological profile. But she didn’t.

Where was Colby?

Tracking her to Colombia seemed impossible. How would he know where to find her? She tried to pass along a clue to the man on the phone, but how many white houses with gardens were in this country? A lot.

Colby would have to playWhere in the World is Mia Kensington?Only with automatic weapons instead of a red trench coat and hat.

Mia winced after she made herself laugh. He was a tough guy with a soft heart. He’d find her.

I’ve needed you my whole life, Mia. And I had no idea.His words echoed in her mind. Just when everything seemed so fresh and safe, so outrageously optimistic, life laughed at her plans. It had been foolish to fantasize about fairy tales.

The scrape of footsteps drifted under the door. Did she hear Alejandro? Or was that Colby? Her brows pinched, desperate to hear again. The sound of silence blared. Her eardrums nearly exploded. Her mind was Looney Tunes’ playground, laughing at her struggle to remain awake and coherent. Was this dehydration? No, this was delusion.

She should have devoured those stupid sandwiches. Guzzled that water. All she could do was beckon sleep. Her forehead pressed against her folded arms. She scrunched against the floor, trying hard to melt into it and away from here. Colby would come. He would. She hadn’t found him just to let him go. He needed her. Didn’t he? Colby...

The door clamored open, and she jerked awake. She couldn’t get her bearings, feeling near comatose. A monster loomed ginormous. Most definitely not Colby. Teeth glowed in the dark. Foul odors smacked her conscious. A hand grabbed her, forcing a caustic rag against her raw lips.

Mia jerked away, scraping her fingernails into his knuckles. They were so rough, she could’ve ignited a match with a strike to his grated skin—it had to be Alejandro.

He lurched her out the door and sloshed her through the hallways. One confusing turn after another. The fumes from the poisoned rag seared her nostrils. Bitterness abraded her tongue. Her stomach rolled, convulsing. Her eyes slinked side to side without her control, as bright trails from hallway windows decorated her drugged vision.Oh, this again.

She slammed into Alejandro’s armpit, smashing to a stop. Her eyes moved hazy and lazy, searching for an answer.

Juan Carlos Silva.

She tried to focus. Tried to study him at his desk. Stupid coffee cup. Stupid cologne. Did he want another phone call? Her lips tingled. She couldn’t feel her tongue or her face or her… Lots she couldn’t feel, but sleep she could, even standing up. The hum in her head lulled her asleep.

***

Rocco adjusted the steering wheel in the Range Rover. Winters sat in the backseat, sandwiched between Brock and Cash, and tried to spread out. The last thing he wanted to do right now was knock knees. Anxious adrenaline raced its course. How did he end up riding bitch?

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