He pushed the thought from his mind. “It’s going to be tougher than you think. You have to inflict as much pain and do as much damage as you can as fast as you can. Go for their eyes, their balls. If you hesitate, if you don’t put all your strength into it . . .”
Yet how much strength could a woman like Natalie bring to bear against men as ruthless as the Zetas? Zach had met women in the military who could kick ass, women who were ripped, women who were trained in martial arts and marksmanship. But even they didn’t have the strength necessary to serve in Special Forces. Natalie had none of their training. She was soft, curvy, feminine—not the kind of woman who beat up paramilitary goons. When it came to fighting, her only assets were her intelligence and her courage.
That’s why Zach had been trying all night to prepare her mind, channeling more than a decade of combat and law enforcement experience into a few stolen hours.
Would it be enough? It had to be.
“If you’re trying to talk me out of this, it won’t work. If I don’t dosomething, we both die.” There was determination in her voice, but also fear.
Fear was good. In the right amount, it could strengthen a person’s resolve, sharpen his senses. But too much fear could paralyze.
“Iknowyou can do it, Natalie.” He wanted to build her up, not psych her out. “The way you tried to protect your friend Joaquin, the way you broke that Zeta’s nose—that took guts. I’m just trying to prepare you for what you’re about to face.”
“I take it you’ve killed men before?” There was an edge to her voice.
Clearly, she didn’t trust him. He couldn’t blame her, not after last night.
He searched for an answer that would relieve her suspicion. He didn’t want her thinking he was some kind of sociopath. “Yes, I’ve killed, but only when I had no choice. It’s never easy taking another person’s life, but sometimes it’s necessary.”
“Oh.”
And for a time, neither of them spoke.
It was she who broke the silence. “You still haven’t given me your word yet.”
It took him a moment to figure out what she meant, his brain fogged by hunger, exhaustion, pain. “If you get me out of these chains, I promise I will do everything I can to get you home safely.”
“Good, because I really don’t want to leave you here.”
He sure as hell didn’t want to be left behind. But he knew what this was really about. If she wouldn’t bring it up, he would. “What happened last night—how much of it did you understand?”
For a moment, she didn’t answer. “Enough. You asked for an hour . . . with me in exchange for the location of the coke you stole.”
Terrific. She thinks you’re some kind of rapist and drug dealer, McBride.
If it hadn’t been so serious, it might have been funny. He thought for a moment about setting her straight, but that would just make her ask more questions—questions he couldn’t answer. So he kept his explanation simple.
“They used you to try to get to me. I was just playing along, hoping they would unchain me. I would never have gone through with it.” When she didn’t respond, he said the words he knew he needed to say. “I’m sorry, Natalie. You have no reason to be afraid of me. I would never hurt any woman like that. You haven’t exactly caught me at my best.”
That’s one hell of an understatement.
He wanted to tell her the truth, but he’d be putting everything he’d worked for, everything he’d suffered for, at risk if he did.
“Apology accepted. But the next time you pull something like that, find a way to warn me first. I don’t like being gawked at like I’m athing.”
Her scolding tone of voice, so out of place in this situation, made him grin. But he knew when he was being given a direct order. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Okay, then. Now, can you please run through the plan one more time?”
“ONE PAIR OF boots. Do you hear that? Just one. You can do this, Natalie.” Zach’s voice reached out to her through the darkness, his confidence keeping her panic at bay.
Standing in the back corner of their little prison, diagonally across from her cell, Natalie fought to slow her breathing, her heart hammering against her breastbone, all but drowning out the approaching crunch of boots on gravel.
You can do this. You have to do this. If you don’t . . .
Her right hand tightened around the chain of her handcuffs, her left hand clutching a brick, her palms sweating.
As they’d planned, Zach began to moan, his voice meant to cover any noise Natalie might make. A key slipped into the lock on the door—and a shaft of daylight spilled inside, followed by the dark shape of a man. His eyes weren’t adjusted for the darkness, and she knew he couldn’t see her. But she could see him.