Page 25 of Scarlet Mark
Auctions were a normal occurrence, a way to throw money around while feeling charitable for a good cause.
But that was not that realm Amara spoke of when she provided that detail from her past.
Her words had suggested a trafficking ring of sorts, which I knew existed. Buying slaves dated back to early civilization, and while there were laws against it now, money trumped reason. There were some sick fucks in this world. I’d met several through my line of work, had enjoyed killing a few of them, too.
And now it seemed the famous senator was involved in some nefarious activities. An interesting accusation, one that could derail his plans for the future.
The public adored him, many wanting him to run in the next presidential election despite his young age of thirty-six. If Amara’s words were proven true, she could destroy his entire career.
Which also gave him cause to silence her.
Yet, he wanted her alive. Why?
She appeared to have given up beside me, her shoulders slumped, her gaze on the dark sky beyond. Jenkins’s meeting was located away from the city, in a rural area with minimal people. I assumed he chose it in case she decided to run again, but her body language told me she had no intention of sneaking off this time. She knew I had her and there wasn’t anything she could do about it.
Amara had accepted her fate.
That usually thrilled me, the chase complete. But her defeat didn’t excite me at all. It actually made me want to turn the car around and take her far away from Jenkins’s men.
This attraction was fucking with my head. Kissing her had been a huge mistake. I hadn’t meant to, but she’d triggered my darker inclinations when she tried to slice my throat. Taunting her with the knife came naturally, her responding arousal heightening the moment and pushing me further into this deadly game between us.
Fuck, I wanted more. So much more.
She’s not mine.
She could be.
Mission first.
Fuck the mission.
The conflicting thoughts harassed me all the way to our meeting place. Amara stiffened as we entered one of the various industrial areas of Solar Valley, tugging her lip between her teeth.
A myriad of words caught on my tongue, most of them an apology for what was about to happen, confusing the hell out of me. I never apologized. Ever. My marks always deserved their fates, but I couldn’t fight the inkling that perhaps Amara didn’t deserve hers.
Shoving the concerns from my head, I focused on our surroundings, searching for Jenkins’s men.
Distractions were dangerous.
Amarawas dangerous.
Four vehicles were parked up ahead, all SUVs, with over a dozen men standing outside of them with casual stances.
Too casual.
I frowned as we approached, red flags waving in my head. “Does your betrothed typically guard you with an army?”
She shrugged. “I had a few bodyguards.”
“How many?” I pressed.
“Three.” She glanced at me. “Why?”
I didn’t reply, eyeing the scene before us. All of them were armed. Some more than others. And two more cars were parked behind them, with a handful of men spread out along the main road.
At least twenty goons, all trying too hard to look casual.
“Do you recognize any of them, Amara?” I asked as we parked about thirty feet away from the troop in front of us. They had formed a U-shaped perimeter with our position being at one end.
