Trees turned his attention back to the lock he meant to install on the door, and she thought through the situation. What if he lied? What if he intended to use his restraints on her? What if she needed to escape?
She couldn’t let him install that lock.
Trembling, Laila approached, touching her fingertips to solid concrete muscle over the surprisingly supple skin of his back. “You can stop. Installing that is not necessary.”
“I think it is.”
“What if I promised I would not escape?” And she meant that…at least for now.
“You’d be lying, and I’d be forced to cuff you again.”
“No. After last night, I know Victor will not give up easily and that I am safer with you.”
He hesitated. “I can’t take that chance.”
“Please. I would feel safer if I was not being kept prisoner. But if you lock me up against my will, I will always be afraid.”
Trees hesitated, then sighed before he shoved everything back into the bag. “Son of a bitch. Fine. But I’m watching you. One more attempt to get free, and I won’t hesitate to both lock you in and cuff you to whatever the fuck I need to, whenever the fuck I want to, until you realize that you have to stay. Are we clear?”
“Of course.” What else could she say?
“All right.” He shoved the bag away. “If I even suspect you’re trying to escape me, I’m warning you now. I’ll be all over you until you beg me for mercy. And I won’t have any.”
A day and a half later, Laila was still trying to understand Trees. Except the handful of hours he had driven to reach this campground in Nowhere, Alabama, he never took his stare off her. He watched her as she ate, as she paced the RV with nervous energy, as she talked on the phone to her sister. He stood guard outside the bathroom while she brushed her teeth or washed her face. He glared as she yawned and fought to keep her eyes open, then he ignored her protests that she wasn’t tired and carried her to bed—cursing her stubbornness—eventually invading the uncomfortably small mattress and lying beside her to shield her with his big body.
A few times, he tried to initiate conversation, asking about her sister, Jorge, or her childhood. For what reason did he need to know those things? To use the information against her? He claimed he was curious, but why? Sometimes, she answered. Mostly, she ignored Trees, pretending she never noticed him at all—not that such a thing was possible.
But he hadn’t touched her, despite the fact he clearly wanted to.
That confused Laila. They both knew she couldn’t stop him. If he violated her, she could tell her sister, of course. But it would be too late. Then again, maybe Valeria would see that as a small price for her to pay to escape Victor and Hector Ramos for good. In some ways, she would be right.
Much to Laila’s relief, Trees had also tucked away his soft leather cuffs, probably somewhere in his bag. She was grateful…but she couldn’t forget his threat. If she “misbehaved,” he would use them against her will. Would she even have to give him a reason? A couple of days ago, she would have said no. Today? He’d kept his promise so far. Maybe that meant something.
Maybe not.
“Hungry?” he asked from the front seat as he parked on an empty pad in the campground and cut the engine.
His idea of a meal seemed to be lots of eggs or chicken with a steady diet of broccoli and rice. She wasn’t accustomed to eating so much or so often, even if the fresh, hot food that she hadn’t had to cook was good. “No.”
He glanced at his phone. “It’s five o’clock. You haven’t eaten since breakfast.”
And he had—twice. Where did he put all that food?
She shrugged. “I am not hungry.”
“Not eating isn’t good for you.” He pocketed the RV key and headed her way, looming above her while she sat at the dining table.
“Neither is eating too much. Why are we stopping here? When will you take me to my sister?”
“When we’ve made sure the safe house is actually safe.”
“EM Security has yet to manage that feat. When did safety begin to matter?”
He sighed. “It always did, Laila.”
“Then why did my brother-in-law and his men find all the houses your organization swore were safe?”
“We’re working overtime to figure that out. Don’t worry.”
“Because I should simply trust you—a man I have known for two days?” She raised a brow. “What happens if I choose not to concern myself and the cartel finds me and my family again? Should I also not worry as they drag Valeria and me into the desert to make a quick end of us, then raise Jorge to be a criminal?”
Trees scowled. “Don’t worry about it because, other than protecting you, figuring this out is my sole focus. I won’t let anything happen.”
He’d said such things before. Some foolish part of her wanted to believe him, but life had proven that no one would solve her problems but her. It seemed clear that someone in EM Security Management was selling their secrets to Emilo’s men. Valeria didn’t want to believe that, but Laila knew. Until that problem was addressed, they were all in danger.
“And you’re changing the subject,” he pointed out. “Skipping dinner isn’t acceptable. Tell me what you want. I’ll do my best to make it.”
Victor and Hector had always expected her to cook for them before one or the other—or both—stripped her down and violated her. Trees had prepared his own meals when she had not been hungry. That had surprised her, but the fact he wasn’t forcing her to do what Victor considered “women’s work” shocked her far more.
“Carne asada.” That’s what she wanted—not that she expected him to actually make it.
“I’ll do my best. Why don’t you take a shower?”
“I am fine.”
“It’s been nearly two days since you bathed.” He dropped his voice to that low, silky tone she found difficult to disobey. “It wasn’t a request.”
“Will you force me?”
He scowled. “Have I truly forced you to do anything against your will?”
Not really. In that, he was light years better than Victor and Hector. But that didn’t automatically make him a good guy. “What if I refuse?”
“I’ll take your phone so you can’t speak to your sister tonight.”
Laila fumed. Trees wasn’t forcing her in a physical sense, but he was coercing her to choose between her family and her sense of safety. That was no choice at all. Laila needed to hear that her sister and her nephew were well far more than she needed to protect herself.
“All right.”
She made her way to Jorge’s diaper bag, where she had stowed her other outfit she had washed by hand last night. Then she retreated to the bathroom, half expecting Trees would barge his way into the little room and take advantage of her while she was naked and vulnerable, despite supposedly being one of the “good guys”—if there was such a thing.
Laila rushed through her shower, but his intrusion never came. When she stepped out of the enclosure to towel off, the scent of grilling meat and spices filled her nose. She wriggled into her clothes, then wrapped a towel around her clean hair and whisked the bathroom door open. Trees hunched over the kitchen counter, chopping peppers as steak sizzled on the griddle pan he’d set over the gas burners.