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He made it clear that he'd shoot Porter without a second thought if I didn't cooperate. So I listened, I followed orders so this asshole wouldn't hurt the only person I've ever loved.

There had been a second man hidden in the pantry, Porter didn't stand a chance. After he knocked him out cold, Dean dragged me to a car they had parked in a remote clearing in the woods and stuffed me in the trunk.

Porter's alive, that's all that matter.

“I see you prefer the floor to the couch. I'm not sure what that says about you.” A man's voice sliced through the air, forcing my head up. Smiling through thin lips, he asked, “Do you know who I am?”

My heart began to race as anxiety filled my veins. This man was too confident to just be some jerk taking orders.

This must be the guy in charge.

Shaking my head, I snarled. “No, should I?”

“I suppose not, but you will now. Marcos Disesto,” he said, resting a hand on his chest. “And you must be Emery.” His feet clicked against the hardwood floor as he walked through the room. “Porter finally had something that made all of the shit he put me through worth while.”

Swallowing hard, I didn't say a word. I let him talk, he looked like a man who enjoyed hearing himself.

Tall and slender, his hair was bright blond and his eyes were green as grass. He was dressed in a charcoal gray suit, with shiny black shoes that looked like they were made from some sort of snake skin.

“I run things around here, and your boyfriend, well he owes me for fucking shit up. He cost me time, money, and my fucking reputation. He made some really big fucking mistakes, he had to pay for them.”

“How is that my problem?” Arching a hard brow, I glared down the bridge of my nose. “I have nothing to do with any of that.”

“Didn't you hear me? Porter owes me.”

“What did he do?” Flopping down onto my ass, I stretched out my legs. “What could have happened that you'd go out of your way just to hurt him?”

“You mean he didn't tell you who he is?”

“He told me about his past. I know who he used to be.”

Standing above me, the man rested his arms behind his back. “Used to be?” Looming over me, his body cast a shadow over my face. “Porter is a killer, he killed an entire fucking family. Women, children, it doesn't make a difference to him. He's a cold-blooded killer, and he always will be. There is no used to be, you're in this till the day you die. Porter wanted out, so he should be dead.”

Flaring my nostrils, my lids thinned. “Is that suppose to scare me? I don't believe a fucking word out of your mouth. He's not a killer anymore, and he wouldn't kill innocent people.”

He could try and frighten me all he wanted to. It wouldn't matter what he said, nothing out of his mouth was true. Porter had told me killed men, but did I think he could kill kids? Not a chance in hell.

“You're a fucking liar, he wouldn't do what you're saying.” Shaking my head, my lips pursed tight.

“No?” Stepping to the coffee table, he sifted through some papers and pulled one out. Holding it up in front of his face, he started reading. “Police are putting out a massive manhunt for Porter Blaise. He's wanted in connection with the deaths of two adults and two children.” Throwing the newspaper across the room at me, it floated down, landing on the floor at my feet. “Here, read it for yourself.”

The words were there in black and white, big and bold. I couldn't even find the strength to reach out and touch it.

No, he wouldn't do that.

Yes, he's killed people, but a whole family? It's not possible.

“It's not true, I don't believe it.”

Desperately, I wanted to force myself to believe my own words. He had been too kind to me for him to be that evil. Porter couldn't do that. . .

Could he?

Tipping his head back, he laughed hard. “It's all right there, but it doesn't matter what you believe, because now you belong to me.”

Pinching my lips, I snapped. “Fuck you, I don't belong to you. Porter's going to come for me, he won't let you keep me here.”

“Porter is dead, sweetheart.”