changed the way she looked at the world. It was one of the many things he loved about her.
Fuck. He loved her.
From the first moment he’d pushed inside her body, she’d been his in a way no woman had ever been before.
Gillian still saw the good in people. In the world. She had an intrinsically positive outlook on life and felt as if everyone had good in them, that everyone was redeemable. Trigger knew differently, but he found her innocence refreshing.
He just hoped it hadn’t gotten her killed.
Gillian regained consciousness in a blink. She wasn’t confused, knew exactly what had happened, but couldn’t understand why.
Squinting, she looked around her—and her blood froze.
She was in some kind of rundown house. She had no idea where. There was trash and debris all around her, along with some shabby furniture. She was sitting in a very uncomfortable wooden chair with her arms secured behind her back. Her ankles were also tied to the legs of the chair.
But the most frightening thing about her situation was the plastic tarp under her feet.
She wasn’t an idiot. She’d seen Dexter, she knew what that meant. They were doing their best to contain her DNA so there would be no trace she’d been here.
Her limbs started shaking but Gillian couldn’t stop. She whimpered in fear.
Just then the door opened, and she stared at the men who entered and felt herself shake even harder. With just a look, she knew the man in front wasn’t someone who felt any sympathy for her. He was Hispanic, with dark hair and bottomless dark eyes. It was if they looked right through her. He didn’t see Gillian Romano, he saw an enemy.
Being so loathed and hated wasn’t a feeling Gillian was familiar with. She was a nice person. She went out of her way to make others comfortable and to make them like her. What she could’ve done to this man to make him hate her so much, she had no idea.
“So you’re Gillian,” the man said after he’d stopped in front of her.
Licking her lips, she nodded. Feeling thankful that she hadn’t been gagged, Gillian couldn’t seem to make her voice work.
“I hear you’ve been chatting with the Feds and DEA.”
She blinked in surprise. She’d had no idea why she’d been snatched out of the garage, but that wasn’t what she thought the man would say.
When she didn’t respond, the man tilted his head and studied her. After a moment, he asked, “You have no idea who I am, do you?”
Gillian shook her head.
“Does the name Salazar mean anything to you?”
Gillian wracked her brain, but couldn’t think of anyone she’d ever met with that last name, and she eventually shook her head once more.
The man chuckled, but it wasn’t exactly a humorous sound. “I think you’re the only person living within a thousand miles of Austin who hasn’t heard of me,” he said.
Gillian hated feeling at a disadvantage.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Salazar, I’m usually very good with names and faces. If we’ve met before, I’ve forgotten the circumstances.”
If anything, her apology seemed to amuse him more.
“My name is Alfredo Salazar.” He paused as if gauging whether knowing his first name would jog her memory. When she didn’t say anything, he continued. “I’m the leader of the Sinaloa Cartel here in Texas…and really, all of the southern US.”
Gillian’s eyes widened. Oh shit. Shit, shit, shit. She didn’t watch the news much, it was too depressing. But she’d recently had a very thorough education on the Sinaloa drug cartel, thanks to her plane being hijacked and a few internet searches.
“I see that’s ringing some bells,” Salazar said. “Let’s start again. I have it on good authority you’ve been talking to the Feds and the DEA about us.”
Gillian tried to swallow, but her mouth was too dry.
“I want to know what you told them. What you know. And if I think you’re not being honest with me, then I’ll have to have my friend here,” he nodded to one of the men who had walked behind her to stand at her right shoulder, “remove one of your fingers. Then if I think you’re still holding back, maybe I’ll take an ear. Or a toe. I can play this game all day,” he said, and Gillian had no doubt he’d do what he threatened. “So…what did you tell them about us?”
“No-Nothing,” Gillian stammered. “I mean, they didn’t really ask about you, about your organization.”
Salazar nodded at the man standing behind her and before she could