“I know.”
“You’re not up for this. We need to call someone else.”
“There is no one, man. The bosses are wrapped up in saving Kimber. Kane has Valeria. One-Mile…”
Trees reared back. “You going to let that crazy son of a bitch near her?”
“Fuck no. Besides, I have to report something to the bosses in an hour. And if Tessa is at all involved in Kimber’s kidnapping—”
“They’ll call the police.”
Zy nodded grimly. “I can’t stop it.”
“The universe owes you for this, man.”
“I need a drink.”
Instead of reminding him that he shouldn’t imbibe on the job, Trees led his buddy into the kitchen, straight to the whiskey.
Zy knocked back three fingers with a tortured sigh. “Have you started going through her things yet?”
“No. I know I’m going to find more, and I hate to pile on right now.”
“This is probably like ripping off a Band-Aid—better to do it all at once so the sting goes away faster.”
“Maybe. I think what’s killing you now—besides the fact she ripped out your heart—is the not knowing. Exactly what she did. Why she did it. Why she dragged you into it.”
“There’s a part of me that keeps insisting this isn’t like her, that she would never hurt anyone—much less everyone—without a damn good reason.”
“You mean other than money?” Trees raised a cynical brow.
“I know that’s enough reason for most people, but…” Zy shook his head. “Or maybe she snowed me so fucking bad I was willing to believe everything, even her goodness.”
“You have an instinct about her, and they aren’t usually wrong. One of the things I’ve always admired about you is your people skills.”
“You only think mine are good because yours suck ass.”
“Mine do.” They ribbed each other a little before Trees went on. “Straight up? You can get to the bottom of this faster than anyone. I said before that I think she loves you. And I still think it’s true…in her way. Go use her own tools against her.”
“What do you mean?”
“Emotion. Appeal to her good side. Get under her skin. Hell, peel off her clothes and fuck her brains out if that forces the truth from her. I can give you hard evidence, but only she can fill in the gaps and explain why.”
Zy snorted. “If what we suspect is real, Tessa only has a passing relationship with the truth. Why should now be different?”
Trees paused and weighed the wisdom of venturing into territory he’d never charted with Zy. But desperate times and all that… “Did you ever ask yourself why I have handcuffs handy? You already asked once why I had rope in my nightstand drawer. You know I’m a control freak. Do the math.”
Zy’s expression told him the instant the truth hit. “You’re a Dominant. Like the bosses.”
Trees nodded. “Keeping it real, man. I think that’s your instinct, too. But if you’ve never partaken, it’s cool. Just…um, word of advice? When you want the truth from a sweet little thing like Tessa—”
“I think we’ve determined she’s not sweet.”
Trees shook his head. “Don’t confuse her acts with the woman herself. She’s gotten herself tangled up in this shit for reasons you and I may never fully understand. But your instincts are right. She’s naturally sweet. A pleaser.”
“Submissive?”
“Maybe. Probably. But you don’t know if you don’t try. So here’s my advice: if you spank her and she comes up biting your head off, then probably not and you should stop immediately. But…if you try and she doesn’t? If she melts? It just might make her pliable enough to be honest. Worth a shot, anyway.”
“Hell, at this point, I’m willing to try anything.”
Trees clapped him on the back. “You just might be surprised. And if I’m right, a bunch of my equipment is down there. You can thank me later.”
Zy yanked his phone from his back pocket and settled it on the counter. “I know I’m running out of time. If the bosses call, stall them. But I don’t want to be disturbed. I’m not coming out of that fucking bunker again until I have answers.”
Trees gave his pal a last supportive clap on the back. As Zy descended again, he headed back into the kitchen with a sigh. He was fucking tired, and he needed another cup of coffee if he was going to outline Tessa’s guilt and finish ripping out Zy’s heart.
He poured a mug from the lukewarm pot and shoved it in the nuker. As it reheated, he made his way to Laila’s room. The stupid, impulsive part of him wanted to wake her and insist he wasn’t EM Security’s mole and he’d never put her family in danger.
But it was pointless. So far, he had only circumstantial evidence, not proof. To fully trust him, Laila would need that. She deserved it.
When he reached the bedroom, he eased the door open. Like before, she lay on her side, burrowed under the blankets—except her wrist, attached to the bedpost. At some point, she had buried her face under a pillow to block out the bright lights overhead. She must be exhausted, and she looked uncomfortable.
Damn it.
Trees tried to stifle his guilt. Since Laila had run away one too many times, he was forced to cuff her to keep her here and safe.
The self-pep-talk was bullshit. Laila had been held against her will for years. Did the fact he was doing it for different reasons really matter? She was still a captive.
But what fucking choice did he have? It was dangerous out there, and if Victor Ramos or any of Emilo’s men found her again, she’d never leave their captivity alive.
Cursing, he stomped to the office, grabbed a trio of items, then returned to deposit them on the dresser. Another errand across the house sent him into his hidden room under the master. He’d built it as a panic room…but he’d decked it out as a private dungeon. It hadn’t been finished long enough for him to put it to good use, but he’d outfitted the place first class, eagerly waiting for the moment he found the right woman to bring here. The notion of using his new equipment on Laila messed with his head. He fantasized about bringing her here and putting her at his tender mercy for their mutual pleasure.
It’s not happening, dude.
Trees grabbed what he’d come for, locked up, then dashed back to Laila. In three minutes, he had batteries in the electric candles Madison had given him for Christmas, their golden beams putting out soft ambient light.
Then he returned to Laila’s side. She hadn’t moved. Carefully, he unshackled her wrist and removed the cuff with the short chain, replacing it with one that stretched two feet.
Gently, he rolled Laila to her back, displacing the pillow from over her eyes. Trees didn’t mean to stare, but every time he set eyes on her, she did something to him. Her curls were like a halo around her shoulders. Her graceful neck gave way to a firm jaw, a stubborn chin, and a pouty mouth that made him sweat. Her long lashes brushed her soft cheeks below delicately arched brows.
He’d had sex with her three days ago. Since then, he hadn’t stopped thinking about her. Of course he wanted her underneath him again, but what he felt was more than sex. He wanted to protect her, help her, give her a better life. He wanted to be a better man so she would believe a good one existed.