Trees had known that when he’d told her he would bring her to Louisiana. He had twisted his words to mislead her, then hidden her less than an hour from her family.
So close…yet so far away. It seemed cruel.
His deception hurt more because, despite plotting to seduce him, when she had given her body to Trees, he had somehow slipped under her skin. Because of the way he touched her. The way he had given her pleasure. The way he seemed to care.
For the first time, for a brief moment, she had felt treasured.
Now? He merely seemed terse and happy to put distance between them. She would oblige him. It was more important to focus on finding ways to help her family, especially ending the danger to her sister and Jorge. If that meant she had to offer herself as bait, she would.
Swiping the wetness from her face, she availed herself of the warm shower. The house was older but meticulously kept. The bathroom was entirely bright and white, except for the black penny floor tile.
Once she was clean, she dressed again in her dirty clothes and tiptoed out of her bedroom. The house was quiet. The motorcycle that had been in the front when they’d pulled up was absent. Zy must be gone.
She and Trees were alone.
Pressing her hand to her nervous stomach, she made her way toward the only other light on in the house—the kitchen. He stood in front of the stove, heating something in a saucepan. It smelled good. Spicy. She was starved.
“You hungry?” he asked, pulling a can of green beans from his nearby pantry.
How had he known she was there? “I am fine.”
He skewered her with a frown over his shoulder. “You’re not. You haven’t eaten in over twelve hours. And you’re still wearing goddamn dirty clothes meant for Florida weather. Why, Laila? I’ll take care of you if you let me.”
“Nothing in life is free. Not the food you eat, not the clothes on your back, not the bed you sleep in. You have paid for all of those, yes?”
“Yes, but—”
“You did not expect anyone to give them to you for free. Because taking from others is wrong, and you are proud. So am I. Since I am without money, I only have one currency with which I could pay you. And when I left Mexico, I swore I would never whore myself out for my survival again.”
He dropped the spoon in the pan, its clatter a loud clang in the kitchen. “You think I would make you fuck me for a meal? Or a shirt? Or a comfortable night’s sleep?”
Laila hated to admit how she’d given herself to scum for years to survive, but she saw no other way to make him understand. “It is the way the world works.”
“Not here. I’m choosing to give you things. You don’t have to pay for them.”
He was playing games with semantics. “That is the same thing.”
“Why would you think that? I’m heating up soup and vegetables. I’m making enough for two, and I’m offering to give you some.”
“In Emilo’s compound, if I wanted to eat, I had to suck cock. If I wanted warmer clothes, I had to spread my legs. If I—”
“Are you listening to me? This is not Emilo’s compound. I’m not asking you for anything in exchange for your meal.”
“They did not ask. They simply forced.”
“I would never do that, Laila.” He looked furious. “Ever! So sit down and eat—”
“No.”
He ground his teeth together, and Laila worried he would lift his arm across his body and backhand her. Or clench his fist and plow it into her belly. It wouldn’t be the first time a man had done that. But even fearing pain, she stood her ground and put on her most defiant face.
“Why are you so stubborn?”
“Am I? Why is it, when a man wants to make his own way, he is proud? When a woman wants to do the same, she is stubborn?”
Finally, he heaved a frustrated sigh. “You ate food in the RV.”
“My sister paid to get us out of Florida, including whatever I ate.”
“She’s paying for this, too.”
“She is not. This came from your pantry.”
“Be reasonable!”
“I am being realistic. I apologize if that upsets or offends you.”
Trees raked a hand through his hair. “After everything, can’t you extend me a little trust and believe that I’m offering you some food, no strings attached?”
“I would still feel the strings, like a puppet.” When he glared at her, Laila sighed. She was going to have to get graphic with him. “The winter before I turned fifteen, Emilo had been keeping me in a bunker to punish my sister for not catering to his every whim. Valeria and my mother were allowed to see me for fifteen minutes a day. Those were the only fifteen minutes I wore clothes. As soon as they left, Victor and his brother Hector would strip me bare. It was merely humiliating at first, constantly being naked and fondled, passed from brother to brother, being forced to fuck one in front of the other. That was how I earned my meals. But as the winter went on, the bunker turned cold. I had no blankets, so I shivered every night and slept under the mattress for warmth. For Christmas, Hector offered me long pants, a new shirt, and warm socks. He told me it was a present, but that night I found out the cost of my present was anal penetration against my will. So perhaps you can see why I’m cynical.”
Fury the likes of which she had never seen thundered across his face. Reflexively, she stepped back as Trees snapped off the stove and shoved the pan from its burner. He reached for her, wrapping his arms around her and bringing her close. “Little one… I’m so sorry. If I could kill them now, I would. I would strangle the worthless life from their bodies and gleefully watch them die. They deserve that and more for what they did to you as a child.” He set her down and cupped her face. “But I would never, ever demand anything of you that you didn’t want to give—no matter what. I gave you a safe word in bed: red. With that, you can stop me anytime. But I swear, I would give you the shirt off my back and my last morsel to keep you safe.”
He probably meant that—at least in his mind. Likely, he saw himself as the noble savior come to rescue her from her wretched fate. And perhaps he was. After all, the rest of his team had saved her from Emilo’s compound less than five months ago. She’d been wearing only a towel when the operation had gone down, and she’d been nervous everyone in the helicopter would expect her to fuck them in appreciation. Instead, an operative named Cutter had given her his shirt. Hunter Edgington had insisted she take a blanket he’d stowed in his bug-out bag. His younger brother, Logan, had given her his rations. None of them had so much as laid a finger on her or looked at her with anything more than pity.
Had she misjudged Trees because he hadn’t been there and because she’d rarely been around good men? Perhaps…but did the nature of men ever really change?
“Thank you for those words.”
“They aren’t just words. I mean them.” He nodded toward the stew. “Let’s eat.”
She shook her head. “I still have no way to pay you.”
He heaved another frustrated sigh, as if he was struggling to hold his temper. “How about if you do the dishes? If you’ll do that, I’ll consider your meal paid.”
His proposition surprised her. Laila turned his offer over in her head. “That is acceptable.”