Once that was done, he’d had his remaining men search the compound for his Roja. Just picturing her beautiful red hair and creamy white skin sent an ache through his groin. He had beaten her within an inch of her life, but he knew he was justified in his actions. The cunt had called out another man’s name when he was fucking her. After everything he had done for her, for her to betray him like that . . . She deserved the violent beating.

When the search of the compound came up empty, he remembered destroying his bedroom in a rage. He had intended for no other man to ever have her—and now she was in the hands of the people who had stormed his compound.

If she’d lived.

He clung to the hope that she hadn’t. For if she was alive, the moment he learned where she was he was going after her. She was his, and she would die by his hands like she should have before.

“Lo siento for the interruption, boss.” It was the sniveling voice of one of his soldiers.

Mendoza jerked his gaze over his shoulder. “Didn’t I make it perfectly clear that I was not to be disturbed?” he snarled.

The man’s face paled. “Uh, yeah, but, uh, I think this is something you will want to see.”

“What is it?” Mendoza hissed.

With a shaky hand, the man thrust out a few black-and-white pictures. “I have some friends at the border. I had asked them to be on the lookout for any American girls who fit Roja’s description.”

Mendoza snatched the pictures out of his hand.

“I weeded out the ones that couldn’t possibly be her. There’s a few who have potential. Of course, they’re black and white, so that makes it harder to look for her hair.”

After staring at two of the photos, he chucked them to the ground. He had every inch of Roja memorized, so he knew when the breasts were too large or small or the face too round.

He grunted with frustration as he came to the last photograph. When he peered down at it, a mixture of hope and anger filled him. Although the image wasn’t completely clear, he knew without a shadow of a doubt it was his Roja. But as soon as he had identified her, rage coiled through him at the sight of her with a strange man. Was this the one whose name she had called out? “Find out everything you can about this man.”

“But we don’t have anything to go on. Not a license plate, and I’m sure if they were fleeing, they used fake passports.”

Mendoza narrowed his eyes. “I gave you an order.”

The man paled for a second time before he swallowed hard and said, “Yes, sir.”

When Mendoza was once again alone, he gathered his scattered thoughts. He loathed unfinished business. First, he would rebuild his camp. Every day that went by without business was money out of his pocket. Taking care of Roja could wait until he was back on his feet.

In the end, she wasn’t going anywhere. When he didn’t come after her at first, she could have her false sense of security. But then he would track her down.

He would have her tight pussy around his cock one last time before he cut her beating heart from her chest.

Roja. Was. Fucking. His.

TEN

ANNABEL

After the moments of tense scrutiny of our documents at the border, the adrenaline had left me reeling. When Rev instructed me to climb into the backseat, at first I had wanted to argue like a petulant toddler that I wasn’t tired. But instead, I had happily eased over the seat and into the back, smiling at the evidence of Breakneck’s kindness and concern—the pillow and blanket. Although it was too hot to cover up, I laid the blanket over the worn leather seat and curled up with the pillow. Soon I was lulled into a deep sleep.

I had no idea how many hours had passed when I woke up to Rev gently shaking me. “Time to stop for gas and something to eat, Sleeping Beauty.”

With a yawn, I replied, “Not hungry.”

“Nope. Don’t want to hear anything other than your chewing. You need food to build your strength back up.”

I popped one eye open to look at him. “Eesh. You’re so bossy.”

He grinned down at me. “Come on.”

“Perfect,” I mumbled as I sat up in the seat. I rubbed my aching neck with one hand and opened the car door with another. “Where are we?”

“About an hour or two from the Louisiana state line.”

I felt my mouth gape open in shock. “I slept the entire way across Texas?”

“Pretty much. ’Course, I was making good time. Cops don’t pay much notice to hunk-of-junk cars.”

I grinned. “I see.” As I gazed around the parking lot at our surroundings, I saw that Rev had stopped at some mom-and-pop greasy-spoon kind of diner. From the eighteen-wheelers lined up in the parking lot, I could tell the place catered to truckers. “We’re eating here?” I questioned, trying my best not to openly express my disappointment.

“Are you insinuating this place is a dump?”

My cheeks instantly warmed. “Of course not.”

“It’s okay, Annabel. I was just teasing you,” Rev replied. “This place does look like kind of a dump, but it just so happens to come highly recommended.”

“It does?”

He laughed. “Don’t sound so surprised. Good food doesn’t always have to come on linen tablecloths and on fine china.”

“I am well aware of that,” I countered. When he ducked his head to rummage around in the trunk, I added, “For the record, I haven’t always eaten on fine china with silver. I do know how to be normal.”

Rev closed the trunk lid. I saw then he held his leather cut in his hand—the one I hadn’t seen him wear since my first night in the hospital. He slid it on, and almost instantly, his appearance changed in front of me. The kind, approachable Rev seemed to fade away and in his place was a tougher, rough-around-the-edges guy. It was more than just a little unnerving.