Dammit. Dickhead men shouldn’t be allowed to wash women’s hair. It was an unfair advantage.
My hair was so long that it took him several more handfuls of shampoo to soap all the way to the ends, then when he quietly ordered me to dip my hair back to rinse, I did as I was told without argument.
He repeated the process twice more, getting all the dirt and grease out—and using up the entire bottle of shampoo in the process—then after applying conditioner, he reached into the tub to pull the plug.
“What are you doing?” I asked with a flash of panic.
He cocked a brow at me. “You need to rinse with fresh water, Danielle.”
Fuck it, it was too late to hide my scars now. I’d just have to give a good explanation. But Danielle would be shy… wouldn’t she? So I wrapped my soapy arms around myself to try and hide my nudity as the water drained out. Kai helped me stand up, keeping my damaged foot on the raised platform and out of the water. It also made it all kinds of impossible to act demure. The best I could do was angling my bent leg somewhat so my vagina wasn’t wide open.
Kai’s gaze heated, and his lips curled in the ghost of a smile. “You’re acting like I haven’t already seen your cunt. Relax, Danielle, I just want to rinse that conditioner out.”
I gave a furious huff. “Do you often find your prisoners relax just because you told them to?”
He flicked me a sharp glance, then reached for the shower attachment to rinse my hair out. Along with the conditioner, it washed away the bubbles still clinging to my skin, and I caught him staring at my tits more than once. Or maybe he was just trying to make out the tattoo that sat low between my breasts, along my bra-line so it was almost always hidden.
I kept my hand over my scar, but when he offered me a towel to dry my hair, I had to grit my teeth and let him see it.
“What is that?” he growled, right on cue.
I glanced down at my dark red scar, then continued drying my hair with the towel.
“Did you hear me?” he barked. “I asked you a question.”
With a sigh, I finished rough drying my hair and wrapped the towel around my body. “Are you going to help me get out of here, or shall I slip over and break my neck?”
He did one better, wrapping his arm around my waist and lifting me completely out of the tub. When he set me down on the soft bath mat, I took a deliberate step away from him.
“Not that it’s any of your business,” I snapped, “but I got mugged on my way home from work.”
Kai’s eyes narrowed. “And you got shot?”
I jerked a nod. “Clearly. That party at Halloween was the first time I’d gone out since waking up in the hospital after surgery and look how that turned out.”
Guilt and regret creased Kai’s face, and I mentally patted myself on the back and took a fucking bow. Yeah, motherfucker, feel bad for innocent little Danielle.
He drew a sharp breath, then gave a small nod. “Get dressed. I’ve got some shit to do.”
Without waiting for my response, he strode out of the bathroom.
“Wait! Kai, you can’t just—” My protests cut off with the slam of his bedroom doors and the distinctive click of the lock closing. “I suppose you can,” I murmured softly, dropping all my prudish indignation and picking up the clothes he’d delivered.
I expected to find more of Moana’s sweats, but the clothing was brand new, tags still attached. A pair of yoga pants and a fitted T-shirt, even a soft, stretchy crop top and a pair of panties. All my size, all new.
“Kai, you creepy fuck,” I whispered, ripping the labels off and getting dressed. It felt good to have underwear on again. Now I just needed my watch back…
Then, once I had my escape plan secured, I could complete my assignment.
26
F or all his faults—and he had many— I couldn’t fault the infamous Ares on his ability to clean up loose ends. By the time I tracked down my snitch, the guy who’d set the meeting with the gun runner for me, he was little more than human goo. No exaggeration, it looked like he’d been tied to a chair, then handed a live grenade. Boom. Splat.
“Dramatic,” I muttered, nudging a chunk of charred flesh with my toe. I was a little bit impressed.
Of course, I hadn’t really intended to kill Ares and his minions at the container yard. If I killed them all, I would never get Danny back. And somehow, for some reason, she’d become my sole focus. My only priority. I was quite prepared to burn the whole world to ash just to get her safely returned to me… and I really had no clue when my casual obsession had turned into such full blown possession.
It seemed pointless trying to psychoanalyze my own damage at this point though. Only one thing would help me now, and that was recovering Danny. Once I had her back… well, I’d cross that bridge when I came to it. Either I’d fuck her until she was out of my head or kill her. Or both. Probably both. But that would be on my terms and not his . He’d already taken enough from me.
My phone vibrated in my pocket, and I pulled it out to answer.
“They’re somewhere in Europe,” my helper reported when the call connected.
I drew a deep breath, inhaling the coppery meat smell of exploded body. “That’s the best you’ve got?”
I’d ambushed them to rattle their cage a little. To make them slip up in their diligent record of covering their tracks. To my irritation, they hadn’t slipped up enough .
“Yeah, for now it is,” the tech bunny on the other end of the call told me, “and that is based off the variance in fuel levels at the airstrip that I’m assuming they used. It’s circumstantial at best, but it’s also all I’ve got. Somewhere within Europe… I’d say maybe Greece at the farthest. Maybe Turkey? But that would be pushing it on that much fuel. My best guess… Italy or Croatia. Or Norway. Maybe Latvia. Or they could be in—”
“I get it,” I snapped, cutting off his prattle. “You have no idea. Somewhere in Europe. Keep fucking looking.” Ending the call, I stuffed my phone back in my pocket and exited the blood-soaked warehouse without disturbing anything more than I already had.
It wasn’t my mess, I wasn’t going to go cleaning it up.
Flipping the hood of my jacket up, I kept my face lowered away from security cameras and made my way back out to the parking lot. To my irritation, I found my new friend waiting beside my car.
“Did you find him?” the tattooed Latino man asked, his hands stuffed casually in his pockets as he eyed me up.
I glared at him, vividly picturing all the ways I could kill him. “I found him,” I confirmed rather than doing what I really wanted to do. As much as it prickled at my skin, I needed this smug bastard for the time being. “But Ares found him first.”
Carlos winced. “That was quick.”
“He doesn’t fuck around.” Apparently. Which made it all the more curious that he’d taken Danny instead of killing her on the spot. A thread of doubt crept into my mind, but I shook it away. She was alive.
Danny’s friend just nodded. He wore a knitted hat pulled down over his ears, and his tattoos covered his whole neck. This was the kind of guy she liked? He seemed nothing special. A common gangster.