Sage’s gaze flew to Rayna. Her friend’s face was covered in confusion, and Sage was certain she returned the mirror treatment on that.

She lashed her stare back to King. “What the hell are you talking about?”

King rocked on his heels like a kid who held all the candy. “I hate to smash your fantasy about my ass in a Bangkok jail…” He touched a finger to his chin. “Well, maybe I don’t.”

Sage scowled. “What?”

“They still call it extradition here, do they not?”

She felt her forehead scrunch harder. “You were extradited to the States? You were extradited here?”

“Mmmm…in a sense, yes.”

“Oh, for the love of—yes or no, King?”

He preceded his reply with that maddening chuckle again. “To your government and to your sweet soldier boys, the answer to that would be yes.”

Sage supplied the conclusion he never gave. “But…?”

King straightened his gaze. A strange benevolence entered his regard of her, almost a gentle pity. It terrified Sage more than any look the man had ever wielded. She pressed herself deeper into the pillows as he went on.

“Lord Byron said it best, I believe. ‘Happiness was born a twin.’ And you know, my sweets, that happiness is doubled when the hospital misfiles a twin’s birth certificate. Do you know what happens then? You get to grow up as one person. You only have to attend half the school, deal with half the beatings of your drunk mother, half the murder attempts from the crack addict who calls himself your stepfather.” The moment of compassion passed. The man’s face twisted back into its sadistic leer. “And yet, you can get into twice the trouble and make twice the money from it.”

Sage didn’t cower in the pillows for long. Her spine straightened as blocks of comprehension stacked up her spine. Every one of them was made of a special concrete called horror. “Are you…saying…”

His lips twitched. “Come on, come on. You almost have it, don’t you?”

She was too amazed to bother with fury anymore. “Are you saying that you have an identical twin…and he’s now sitting in prison instead of you?”

King shrugged with such ease, he earned an approving grin from Junior. “It was my turn for the detention spa last time. Besides, Mua knows that his little vacation will be over in”—he glanced at his watch—“about twelve hours.” He swept his smile back across the bed. “Until then, my special bitches, we have a busy afternoon ahead. Are you ready for your fun?”

Josie lifted her head. Her jaw looked like a face-painting job splashed in rain, dark reds and fuchsias smeared across her skin. “Sorry. I don’t think my bruises match my cruise wardrobe.”

King walked over and pushed a couple of fingers into the darkest part of the woman’s injury. When Josie whimpered, he smiled. “The colors are quite lovely, my dear. I am certain we shall find something nice for you to wear with them. And do not worry your pretty head about appropriate cruise wear. We shall be on land for your festivities this evening.”

From the corner of her eye, Sage caught Rayna’s head jerking back up. She copied the move. “What do you mean?”

King gave them a silken smile. “You, my sweetlings, have caught the eye of some international buyers with…particular tastes. They are in town tonight and have cleared their schedules for a sampling party.” He spread his hands, nearly celebratory about it. “It is exciting, yes? My more extreme clientele are usually the kind who enjoy the feel and taste of foreign pussy for their romps, but these collectors are more interested in wholesome American fare. Defiling an innocent can be so…stimulating. And look here; their timing could not be more perfect.”

Sage got off a snarky glower. “Because you’ve got a bad boys’ leather party on the calendar for tomorrow night?”

King shook his head and chuckled. “Because your sweet soldier boys will be on planes bound for Bangkok tonight, rattling their swords and screaming about saving you, though all the while, you are disappearing from right under their feet.” He laughed again, but the expression faded as he issued his next words. “You know what they say about karma, bitches. And now your oh-so-special soldiers will reap everything they have sown of it with the King.”

The bastard finished that off by turning his back on them. Rayna and Josie joined Sage in her glowering silence, but she could feel their terrified screams as loud as the din in her own soul. The only relief for the torment was fantasizing that her palms could shoot fire and she could incinerate the monster before he took another step. Certainly before he called back his parting instruction to Junior.

“The stylists will be here to prep them soon. Cut those clothes off all three of them. Make sure that they shower.”

“Yes, sir!” If King threw a winning lottery ticket back down the stairs, the kid wouldn’t have grinned wider. He waited long enough for King to close the hatch and then yanked out a dagger that was strapped to his calf. He grinned wide and paced straight to Sage. “Might as well start with my favorite slut.”

As the kid started slashing apart her clothes, Josie gave her fingers a squeeze. “Stay strong. We’re right here with you, Sage. We’re right here.”

Sage jammed her eyes shut, struggling to hold back the reply she longed to blurt at the woman.

But why can’t I be anywhere but here?

* * *

The question refused to leave her mind. Like a sloppy-drunk party guest who kept hitting the replay button on a bad breakup song, the words were a reminder of where she really was, of the tunnel into which her life was headed. Even after she’d seen her clothes in a torn puddle on the floor. Even after the stylists had coated her in makeup and then pushed her into a corset and panties. Even after she’d been piled into a limousine with Josie, Rayna, and three bodyguards, the words echoed in a haunting refrain.

Why…why…why…

Anywhere but here…anywhere, please.

During the drive, she fixed her gaze on the black glass of the limo’s tinted window, trying to conjure where Garrett and Zeke were by now. They would have called Franzen and likely been able to convince the CO that King was involved with this shit. Maybe after that, the guy had approved a team and they were halfway to Bangkok by now.

The black pane made it so easy to conjure the contrast of Garrett’s rugged, golden handsomeness as the team flew through the night. The wind lifting his tawny hair off his forehead. The smoky determination in his long-lashed blues. His long nose leading the eye to the angles of his mouth, undoubtedly tilted up at one end as he contemplated slitting open King’s throat this time around.

After that, the image went fuzzy. Tears had a way of doing that, even to fantasies.

She tilted her head back. Forced away the sting with a determined sniff. These assholes weren’t going to get the extra brass ring of her sorrow. Like always, it stayed inside. Deep inside. Pushed to a place where they couldn’t touch it or her. They could pound their bodies as deep into hers as they wanted, but from the moment she stepped out of this limousine, they’d never claim her as a person. Sage Weston would cease to exist—and now it was by her choice, not theirs.

All too soon, that moment arrived.

Sage’s instincts, along with the feel of the road, told her they’d gone over the 520 bridge and into Medina—the land of Bill Gates, Jeff Bezos, Charles Simonyi, and other people who sucked different air than the rest of humanity. Sure enough, the driver slowed the car before stylized steel gates that glistened in the misty night. When they slid back, they rolled up a driveway that likely doubled as the landing strip for the owner’s private jet. A diamond-shaped reflecting pool in front of the house had a lighted fountain that looked like a giant steel cheese curl.

When the limo stopped, the henchmen got out first. During the two seconds they were alone inside the car, Rayna let out a harsh, heavy sob. “Fuck! Sage, I don’t know if I can do this!”

“Of course you can.” Josie ripped the words into her. They weren’t a surprise. From the moment King had gone battering ram on her face with the SIG, the woman had changed from nurturing mama hen into savage mama tiger. “You’ll do this, Rayna, and anything else it takes to stay alive. Look, I know you’ve both had it with having to tow this line, but you don’t have a choice. I won’t give you one. If we have any chance of finding a way out of this, we need to work together. We have to keep our senses keen and our eyes open. Agreed?”

Sage joined her friend in returning the woman’s tough love with a fast nod. Senses keen. Eyes open. She could do this. She could—

Shit.

“Eyes open” was deleted from the options list pretty fast.