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Authors: Christy Reece

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happened. Instead of coming to him and admitting her mistake, she had

disappeared again, and he'd been looking for her for two years.

At some point he had hoped she would come back on her own. That

had been his ultimatum.
Come to me of your own free will or everyone you

care about will die
. She hadn't taken him up on his offer, so he really didn't

have a choice in the matter, did he? Now that she'd been found, he would

never let her go again.

He'd had to tame her into submission several times before, and though

it would pain him to do it again, he would have no choice. With the right

amount of discipline, along with all the love he had for her, he was sure that

this time he could change her mind. This time he would convince her.

And very soon, he would have that opportunity. Excitement rushed

through him. McKenna would soon be his again!

46

Christy Reece

Marseille, France

McKenna sat on the park bench across from a sleazy hotel. Sipping

coffee, she tried to pretend she wasn't freezing her ass off...pretty damn hard

since she
was
freezing her ass off.

Right before she'd gotten on a train to Lyon, Noah had called with a

possible job. He never said he had a job for her--just a possible job if she

was interested. She'd yet to turn down any possible jobs. Not only did she

need the money, but working with LCR was the most worthwhile thing she'd

ever done. She was just lucky she got paid for it.

The hotel was a known operation for prostitution. If that's what a

person chose to do, that was their business. Being forced into prostitution

was another matter. Noah had gotten word that several young girls had been

taken off the street in various parts of the city and had ended up here in this

skank hole.

Only one LCR operative was working the job with her. He had gone

into the hotel for a brief look-see. On his word, she'd either know they

needed more help or this was something they'd do on their own.

"Got ourselves a bit of a problem."

If anyone else heard Dylan Savage's lazy voice, they'd think he was

about the most laid-back person in the world. McKenna had worked several

ops with him. Beneath that slow, lazy drawl, she heard the underlying

tension in his tone.

"What?"

"Don't have time to get additional help. We got ourselves a serious

issue."

McKenna stood and crossed the street. Making her way slowly to the

entrance, she tried to appear as unconcerned as Dylan always did. Inside, her

heart was triple-timing with adrenaline. Dylan would never be authorizing

her to come in without backup unless some major shit was taking place.

"Can you give me an idea?"

"Got four of them going on right now. All of them sound pretty damn

rough." He stopped and added, "And damn young."

The sheer grimness in his voice had her picking up her pace. Four

young women were being raped. He was right. No waiting for backup.

"I'm at the entrance," McKenna said.

"Lobby should be deserted. Gorilla behind the counter will be out for

a while. I'm on the third floor. I got rooms six and eight. You take rooms

thirteen and fifteen."

"Got it." Before she went through the door, McKenna pulled her knife

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Christy Reece

from its sheath under her pant leg and slid it into her jacket pocket. Taking

the gun from her shoulder holster, she held it down at her side. It was

doubtful she'd need it until she got to the room, but she'd take no chances.

Entering the small lobby, she scrunched her nose at the repugnant

smells that hit all at once: musky sex blended with the stench of urine,

vomit, and other excrements she didn't even want to think about.

Dylan was right: the lobby was empty. The long counter that served as

check-in or whatever the hell they called it in a prostitution house had no

one standing behind it. On her way up the stairs, she glimpsed a pair of jeanclad legs sticking out from behind the counter and figured they belonged to

the aforementioned gorilla.

Her gun at the ready, McKenna ran up two flights of stairs. Stopping

at the top of the third-floor entrance, she held her breath to listen. All sorts of

sounds emanated from several different areas. Groans of pleasure and beds

squeaking didn't cause alarm. Screams and cries of pain did. McKenna took

off running toward the sickening sound.

Her heart racing, she stopped at room thirteen and eased the door

open. Peeking inside, she decided to hell with stealth. She shoved the door

open and it thudded hard against the wall. The grunting man on the bed

whirled around and yelled, "I'm not finished."

Gun steady in her hand, she stalked over to him. "Yes, you are."

Cursing, he pulled away from the girl on the bed and turned around.

"You want some of this, too?"

Since shooting off a certain body part would hold too much appeal,

she refused to look down at him. Instead, she motioned with her gun. "Get

on the floor."

Sneering, he turned back to the helpless girl on the bed. "Go to hell."

"If you don't think I'll shoot you, think again."

Apparently even with a gun pointed at him, her threats didn't impress

him. The young girl was crying; McKenna refused to look at her. Getting rid

of the raping bastard was her first priority. Since subtlety hadn't worked, she

went with a more aggressive move. Drawing closer to the bed, McKenna

jumped and delivered a hard, controlled kick to the man's flabby arm. He

tumbled off the bed, landing with a nice, satisfying thud on the floor.

Backing away from him, she taunted, "Now do I have your attention?"

With a roar, he lurched to his feet and took a step forward. Pulling her

knife, she threw it, hitting him in the meaty part of his shoulder. The knife

wasn't long enough to do major damage, but she expected it to hurt like hell

and slow him down. It did. He howled in pain, his eyes wide with shock.

Taking a pair of handcuffs from one of her pockets, she threw them at

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Christy Reece

his bare feet. "Handcuff yourself to the bedpost."

His hand holding his wound, he continued to stare at her, not moving

to take the handcuffs.

Arching her eyebrows, McKenna lowered her gun and pointed it at his

naked crotch. "It's a small target, but I think I can hit it."

That got him moving. Bending down, he picked up the handcuffs and

put them on, attaching one end to a bedpost.

She finally turned to the young girl, who was now sitting up, her arms

wrapped around a pillow to cover her body.

"You okay?" McKenna asked softly.

Tears pouring down her young, ravaged face, she nodded.

An agonized scream came from the room next door, piercing the tense

silence. Pulling her knife from the man's shoulder, McKenna ignored his

vicious curse of pain. She shot a glance at the girl again. "Wrap the sheet

around you, go out to the hallway, and wait for me."

Not waiting for a reply, McKenna dashed out the door and ran to

room fifteen, where horrific screams of pain continued. She shoved the door

open. What she saw had her rushing into the middle of the room before she

knew it. A girl lay facedown on the bed, her long blond hair hanging over

the side. She was spread-eagled and nude, each limb tied to the bed. Two

men stood on either side of the bed. Both were nude and held whips. And

both were taking turns using them on the girl's bare back.

The scene before her morphed into a scene from eight years before.

McKenna's mind went into shutdown mode. Raising the gun, she shouted

over the young girl's screams, "Stop!"

Neither man appeared to have heard her. Her eyes went to the larger,

older one. Not only did his eyes gleam with an unholy lust, but he was fully

erect, sexually excited by whipping the girl.

With a low growl, McKenna sprang, taking him to the floor. She

heard the other man shout. The roar of fury in her head was so great, she

barely felt the stings of the whip on her back. She knew the other man had

turned on her. Right now, her priority was the pervert she was choking to

death. The stranger beneath her had Damon's face. She tightened her grip,

barely conscious of the pain on her back or the purplish tinge of the man she

choked.

"McKenna! Let go." Hands pulled at her arms. Reality returned. Her

breath coming in ragged spurts of panic, she rolled off the man and crawled

away from him. She turned to see that the other man was on the floor across

the room, apparently unconscious. Dylan had taken care of him. The man

McKenna had almost choked to death lay wheezing several feet from her.

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Christy Reece

With silent efficiency, Dylan rolled the gasping man over and

handcuffed him. Then he went to the girl and untied her.

McKenna sat frozen on the filthy floor and watched it all take place.

She'd never had a flashback. For eight fucking years she'd been able to

suppress that humiliating and physically painful event. And today, for some

reason, the memories had returned as if it had just happened.

"You okay?"

Dylan stood several feet away. Most male LCR operatives treated her

that way. Early on, they'd sensed she had a problem being physically close

to anyone. And today Dylan had more reason than before to stay away from

her. She'd behaved like a maniac. And an amateur.

Unable to articulate a word, McKenna managed a nod. She had

known that at some point her past would catch up with her. She just hadn't

expected it to happen this way. Somehow she'd always thought that Damon

would find her and she'd have to take him out. Or she'd finally find her

backbone and go after him. Never had she considered that a flashback would

throw her for a loop. Not only had she almost killed someone in a rage, but

the victim had still been in danger. While she'd been whooping up one guy,

the other one could easily have killed the woman. And it would have been

her fault.

She watched as Dylan spoke into a cellphone. The authorities would

be here soon. Her mind told her she needed to get up and move. Her body

refused to listen.

"McKenna?" Dylan said quietly. The concern in his eyes almost undid

her again. He knew she'd lost it. If she hadn't been so numb with shock, she

would have been mortified. She never, ever showed the real McKenna. No

one was allowed to see the scared little girl behind her facade of toughness.

Today Dylan had seen that and so much more.

A furious inner voice snarled:
Get off your ass!
Hands pressed on the

floor for balance, McKenna got to her feet. Her legs felt like soggy pretzels.

Her teeth gritted and her jaw tight, sheer determination alone made her move

forward.

"The police will be here soon. You need to get going."

Another bit of information LCR knew about her, though no one ever

talked about it. Being seen by the police, by any government official, was

something she avoided at all cost.

She took a trembling breath, feeling the need to at least apologize.

"Dylan, I'm sorry I--"

"Hell, little girl, if you're going to go all sloppy on me, I might just

have to carry you out of here."

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Christy Reece

If her mouth hadn't been stiff, she'd have smiled. Dylan only called

her "little girl" when he wanted to piss her off. It usually worked like a

charm. Today it just made her want to sit down and cry. Damned if he'd see

that, too.

"What about the other victims?"

"They're comforting each other. They'll be fine till we can get them

medical attention." He shot a look at the young woman on the bed. Wrapped

in a sheet, her hands covering her face, she sobbed softly. He turned back to

McKenna. "I'll stay with her. You need to go."

McKenna nodded and forced her legs to move toward the door.

Before walking out, she stopped and looked back at Dylan. "Tell Noah

that--"

"Noah will be in touch with you for another job. This was a glitch.

Got it?"

Gratitude brought unexpected tears to her eyes. She turned away

before he could see. "Thank you."

Feeling as though she'd been whipped all over again, McKenna

trudged through the hotel, not seeing anything but the blankness of her own

thoughts. She would go back to the tiny hotel she was staying at, hole up for

a few days. When she reemerged, she would be McKenna once more. No

longer broken, no longer defeated. No longer a victim.

51

Christy Reece

Five

London

Lucas stared down at the numbers before him. When he'd taken over

his family's empire, he'd had some lofty goals. Reading mind-numbing

numbers sure as hell wasn't one of them. But in this case he had no choice.

Someone was stealing a considerable amount of money from Kane

Industries.

Five years ago, he'd assumed control of Kane Enterprises. Taking over

that early hadn't been in his plan, but it had been his only option. And he had

the deepest regrets that he hadn't come on board sooner. Not because he

wanted to run a multibillion-dollar organization, but because it was what his

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