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Fear gripped her throat, but she forced herself to stand slowly, head down, and slip behind a big, leafy bush along the perimeter.

When the two thugs spilled out onto the patio, they split up, Victor veering left. His determined lapdog headed her way.

Laila tried not to panic. Now what?

Behind the greenery, she inched along the wall, deeper in the shadows. When Victor’s goon disappeared into an area marked Employees Only, and Victor was nowhere to be seen, Laila sent up a silent prayer, ensured her dark curls were tucked under Trees’s cap, then spotted a family heading into the attached restaurant. Trembling, she slinked from her hiding spot to merge behind the kids, trying to blend in.

A shout and the pounding of feet later told her that she’d been spotted.

Panic spiked.

With her heart racing, Laila ran blindly through the mostly empty restaurant, looking for an escape other than the empty parking lot behind the hotel. She stumbled into a hall and pushed into the ladies’ room. But there was no lock on the door, and she wasn’t naive enough to believe the gender orientation of the bathroom would keep Victor out. As desperate as it was, she hoped she wasn’t in here alone. Another woman could act as a buffer. Victor would think twice about unleashing violence in front of witnesses, at least in the States. Maybe she could borrow the hotel guest’s phone and call…

Who? Other than Walker, who would refer her back to Trees, she had no one on her side. Even Valeria couldn’t help. And no matter how much the giant with the searing green eyes claimed he would protect her, she couldn’t risk trusting him.

But fate wasn’t on her side. The bathroom was empty.

Resisting the urge to cry, Laila threw herself into a stall and locked the flimsy door. Her panting sounded too loud in the still. As she crouched on the toilet, she squeezed her eyes shut and prayed she had lost Victor.

The world proved it had abandoned her again when the bathroom door squeaked open. “Laila. I know you’re here, chiquita.”

She cringed every time he called her that. He only did when he was pissed and bad things were coming.

“I know because I saw you run across the street like a scared little girl and followed you.”

Of all the terrible luck…

“The tall man can’t help you anymore. Come willingly, and I will make your punishment bearable.”

No, he wouldn’t. She should have stayed in the middle of a busy area, around a lot of people, near security cameras. He would not have dared to drag her out of this hotel against her will with employees and protective families looking on. But all he had to do now was haul her out of the bathroom, down the isolated hall, then out the back door mere feet away. Even if there were cameras covering the door, Laila wasn’t foolish enough to hope that anyone would care to look for her. And if Victor and his brother, Hector, had their way with her again—and again and again—they would make sure she could never get free.

“Not making this easy for me?” He tsked at her. “There are only so many stalls to hide in. Where else do you think you can go? There’s no window, unlike your house. You can’t steal a neighbor’s car and nearly run me over to get away. It’s just you and me. And no escape.”

Tears stung her eyes and closed up her throat. He was right. But that also didn’t mean she would just give in. He didn’t know which stall she was locked in. She had the element of surprise.

Would you need it if you had stayed with Trees?

He would have protected her from Victor, yes. But who would have protected her from him?

“Time’s up. I guess you want to do this the hard way. You know that suits me, chiquita.”

She bit her lip to hold in a whimper, grabbed the sides of the stall, and braced to kick her way to freedom. And she prayed.

He smashed open the stall beside her and stepped in. The door clattering against the wall made her start. She managed to bite back a gasp, but fear gnawed her belly. Her heart beat so hard she felt jittery and faint. Every one of the twenty-two hours since she’d last eaten now haunted her. What if she didn’t have the strength to fight off Victor?

As he spun and backtracked toward the front of the stall, Laila dragged in a deep but silent breath. The next ten seconds might determine if she lived or died.

The thought had barely buzzed through her brain when he grabbed her fingers, still clutching the top of the stall, then latched onto her arm and gave it a vicious yank. She fell off the toilet and stumbled face first into the metal wall. Trees’s hat fell to the tile as Victor dangled her off the floor by her arm. She struggled to get her feet under her, fearing he would pull her shoulder from its socket.


Tags: Shayla Black Wicked & Devoted Erotic