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When You Dare - Lori Foster [13]

By Root 774 0
I’ve got that going for me.”

He was silent a moment, then said, “I didn’t think to ask earlier, but do you need any aspirin or anything?”

Molly shook her head. “I’m not sure what the pills were that they forced me to swallow, but I’d rather not take anything else for a while.”

“They were probably some kind of hallucinogen. Or maybe tranqs.”

Reminded of how the pills had made her feel, she stiffened, pushed back from him a little to look up at his barely visible face. “I detest being out of control.”

He went curiously still. “Now?”

“No, when they were doping me.” She remembered the lack of control over her sluggish limbs, how her mind dredged up such ridiculous, vague and misty dreams. Everything was surreal, implausible, insubstantial. “I don’t drink, and I never, ever took drugs. I’ve never even smoked pot. And then to have them force me… It was awful. Why would anyone ever drug themselves on purpose?”

He relaxed again. “No idea.”

She believed him. Dare was a man who enjoyed being in charge. He wouldn’t blunt that ability for the sake of kicks or a quick high.

More to herself than to him, Molly whispered, “I like being me, not a loopy version of me.”

He said nothing to that.

Needing to talk, to drive away the remnants of that dream, she again looked up at him. “The other women… You said you saved one, but there were others there, too. What happened to them?”

“Four of them were apparently local, because as soon as I freed them and told them it was clear, they took off.”

“I hope they’re all right.”

He shrugged. “They seemed to know right where they wanted to go.”

“Those men…” Damn it, she had difficulty finishing thoughts, much less sentences. “They were so cruel, taunting the women, pawing them.”

His muscles seemed to bulge. “The blond woman. They pawed her?”

Icy anger sounded in his tone. “Sometimes, but I got the impression she was too valuable to abuse. They said she’d bring a lot of money.” Now Molly soothed him, clutching his big shoulder. “She’s the one you saved? The one you said is like family?”

“Yes.”

She put her cheek against his chest again. “Where is she now?”

His hug was automatic, for them both. “With her brother. Safe.”

Safe. Such a strange concept, but Molly now knew that no one was ever really safe. “I’m glad. She’s so young.” His warmth seeped into her, making her drowsy again. “I tried talking to her, but she was too afraid.”

Looking down at her, he asked, “And you weren’t?”

“I’ve never in my life known that kind of fear.” The dark and quiet of the small room, the casualness of his touch, made it easier to talk. “Dare, can I tell you something?”

He shifted, almost like he was settling in for something monumental. “Yes.”

How to explain it? A prisoner was a prisoner—but she’d been imprisoned differently. “I wasn’t like the others.”

Rather than question her meaning, he just said, “I know.”

Did he? “Those girls were in their late teens or very early twenties, and they were all stunning. They were kept on one side of the trailer, with more opportunity to bathe. They were given clean clothes. Ridiculously revealing clothes, but still… And they had more food, more water. It was almost like the jerks wanted them to look good. Healthy, I mean.”

“Yeah, I know.”

But Molly frowned at her own words. “I’m not saying they had it any easier than I did. Captivity is captivity, and we were all miserable.”

“But?”

She swallowed. “But… I’m thirty years old.” She twisted to look up at him. “I know I’m plain. And even if I didn’t already know it, I’m not stupid.”

She heard something in his tone when he agreed. “No, you’re far from stupid.”

“They didn’t want me to sell, like they did the others.”

As if he’d already come to that conclusion himself, he said, “No, they didn’t. But then why did they take you? Do you know? Did they say anything?”

They had said plenty, most of it in Spanish. “I’ve gone over it again and again, and I think… I think someone must have paid them to.”

In the quiet security of that small motel room, she counted their breaths, waiting for Dare to react. By small degrees,

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