Page 54 of The Torturer's Target

“Let’s go,” Max said to the driver.

Max studied Tesiera’s face as the car began to move, trying to read her expression. He knew she was a woman of few words and even fewer emotions, but he couldn’t help but wonder what was going on inside her head.

“Are you okay with this?” Max asked, trying to gauge her comfort level with holding the child.

Tesiera looked down at Hazel, her eyes softening slightly. For a moment, Max thought he saw a glimmer of something in her expression—perhaps a hint of warmth or affection. But just as quickly as it appeared, it was gone.

“Yep,” Tesiera replied simply, and Max could tell she was trying to keep her voice steady.

He noticed how delicately she held the child. Her movements were calculated and careful, as if she were handling a delicate glass figurine. She cradled the little girl against her chest, making sure that she was comfortable.

Hazel’s small hands clung tightly to Tesiera’s shirt, her eyes focused on Tesiera’s face. Tesiera felt unnerved and out of her element. Never before had she had a problem with meeting people’s gaze, but with this three-year-old, she struggled, so she kept her gaze averted.

Max could see the muscles in her arms flexing as she held the child close. It was clear that she was determined to keep Hazel safe and protected throughout the journey.

“Look at me, Aunt Tetiena,” Hazel demanded, taking Tesiera by surprise.

She looked down at the child, and their eyes met. There was no smile on her face, but Hazel didn’t seem to mind. Instead, she gave Tesiera a wide smile. “I like your hair,” the child commented.

“I know,” Tesiera responded.

“How did you know?” Hazel asked, wide-eyed.

“You said so the first day we met.”

“Oh. I’ll get this color for my next birthday.”

“I don’t think your mother will agree to that, kiddo.”

The child grinned and rested her head back on Tesiera’s chest while she began playing with Tesiera’s ponytail.

As the car continued its journey, Max watched them—how the child’s head rested comfortably against Tesiera’s chest, and how Tesiera’s arm was positioned to keep Hazel from falling off.

He noticed how Tesiera’s gaze would sometimes drift down to the child, lost in thought. Max wondered what she was thinking about. Perhaps memories of her own childhood or contemplating the child’s innocence and vulnerability.

Tesiera, on the other hand, was unaware of his scrutiny. She was completely focused on the child in her arms. The restlessness she felt had abated, and she felt warmer and more relaxed. It was a soothing feeling she hadn’t felt in a long time.

After a while, Hazel’s eyes grew heavy, and she started to drift to sleep. Tesiera noticed the child’s drooping eyelids and stroked her hair gently. “It’s okay, Hazel. I’ve got you,” she whispered, the words escaping her lips before she knew she was going to say it.

Her eyes flashed in disorientation. She turned to see if Max had witnessed that embarrassing moment but was relieved to see he focused on his cellphone. Taking a deep breath, she turned back to the sleepy child and glanced at her in disbelief, as if she were an alien.

Hazel snuggled closer to her, her small hand reaching up to gently tug Tesiera’s hair. “Aunt Tetiena, can I braid your hair?” she asked sleepily.

Tesiera remained silent, but her gaze didn’t waver from the child’s face.

“Mm?” The child persisted.

“You can,” she replied at last. “But we’ll have to do it another time when you’re not so sleepy.”

Hazel nodded, her eyes closing again. “Okay, Aunt Tetiena,” she murmured.

As Hazel began to doze off, Max saw Tesiera adjust her hold on the child to make sure she was comfortable. He could see the care and tenderness in Tesiera’s movements, which was a stark contrast to the tough exterior she usually displayed.

He had also caught her slip-up earlier but had pretended like he wasn’t paying attention because he knew it would be easier for her. Her guard was down, and he didn’t want it going up again.

He felt a strange mix of emotions as he watched Tesiera and Hazel. He had just witnessed a different side of her—a softer, more nurturing side that he was certain she didn’t think she had. A side that Tesiera the Torturer never showed herself or the world.

The woman was breathtaking but seeing that side of her made her even more enthralling to him. How the hell does a man fight an attraction for a woman like her? He had thought he’d gotten a handle on it, but he was clearly wrong, judging from the way his heart beat faster as he watched her.

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