You Are Mine by Jackie Ashenden Page B

The place she came from. The place she’d run from. Only to run into the arms of the men who took her.
    At least the house was safe …
    The traitorous thought paralyzed her. And for a moment it was all she could think about. No freedom, but a roof over her head. Warmth. Food. A safe place to sleep at night. Things she’d never had before in her whole life.
    â€œEva.”
    She blinked, realizing she was standing in the middle of the dim, dingy hallway, breathing hard. Completely still.
    Zac was standing in front of her, a dark, massive presence. He was frowning, his amber eyes sharp, searching her face.
    Don’t say it. Don’t say a fucking word.
    â€œI’m fine,” she said aloud before he could ask. “Which number is his?”
    His penetrating gaze lingered on her for a second. Then he turned away, looking down the hallway. “Two twenty-six. Down here.”
    She followed his tall figure as he moved along the hall, her palms damp, her heart feeling like it was going to explode out of her chest.
    Ignore it. Ignore it. Ignore it.
    Zac stopped in front of one of the nondescript doors, raising one black-gloved hand and knocking. There was no response. He knocked again, more insistently.
    The thready cry of the baby echoed. In an apartment down the hall, someone was shouting.
    Eventually there came the sound of heavy footsteps, locks being undone, the rattle of a chain. The door opened a crack. Eva, standing a bit behind Zac, couldn’t see their face.
    â€œWhaddya want?” a distinctly unfriendly voice rasped.
    â€œMr. Bryson?” Zac asked, ignoring this.
    â€œWho’s asking?”
    â€œMy name is Mr. Black.” It was what Zac normally called himself when he didn’t necessarily want people knowing his real name. “I need to speak with you. I assure you it won’t take longer than five minutes.”
    There was a pause. Eva could hear her heartbeat now, loud and fast in her ears. The voice didn’t sound familiar to her but then would she have remembered it? She’d pretty much ignored that part of her life so completely that her brain may have erased the memory of it for her. At least, that had been the plan. Perhaps it had been successful.
    Clearly Mr. Bryson didn’t like Zac’s look because he said curtly, “I ain’t talking to nobody,” and slammed the door shut.
    Zac turned and glanced down at her. Raised one black brow. And she knew exactly what he was asking. She gave a curt nod. They had no choice but to follow up this lead. It was the only one they had after all.
    With a smooth economy of motion that spoke of complete and utter physical confidence, Zac took a step back. Then he kicked the door in.
    It exploded back with a crash, and there was a shout from Bryson. But Zac was already stepping into the apartment without hesitation, making straight for the man standing there staring at him in shock. One black-gloved hand closed around Bryson’s throat as Zac continued moving forward, stopping only when Bryson was shoved against the wall, cutting off his shouts.
    â€œAs I said”—Zac’s voice was as calm and level as if he was carrying on a polite conversation that had been rudely interrupted.—“I only need five minutes of your time, Mr. Bryson.”
    That hand had been on her throat not fifteen minutes ago and now it was holding someone against a wall …
    What little breath Eva had left vanished.
    She’d never seen Zac use force on a person before. Usually he got what he wanted through polite requests, his natural authority and sheer presence doing all the work for him. Oh, she knew his past as a mercenary, that he’d certainly killed people on the various missions and jobs he’d once done. But that had always been an abstract kind of thing. Something that had happened in the past, that certainly wasn’t part of the present.
    I’m not a tame house cat …
    A small,