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As a captive, she’d learned how to play the game. She’d been denied food before. She’d had to wear outfits a sex worker would turn her nose up at, sleep on floors, and made to pee in buckets left in the corner of her room. And she’d survived, traumatized, but with her dignity intact.

Why she let her current situation get to her, she wasn’t sure. But it did. Maggie O’Byrne would probably say she was displacing her anger and fear. But Maggie had not seen the conditions of her confinement.

The cabin the men had taken her to was basically one big room. Someone had propped a broken wooden framed bed standing on its last leg, literally, in one corner. There were sheets, but they were covered in stains and spots, a few of which she was pretty sure had crawled from one end of the bed to the other.

In the second corner stood a square 1950s Formica card table that at one time was probably red but had been left next to the window so long it was now a bubbled, dull maroon with rustedout legs. There was a plastic box underneath the table that passed for a sink, and a cooler with a sprung lid.

Corner three had a stack of World Book Encyclopedias dated 1985 topped with a small bucket and a mirror hung above it that she could only assume passed for the lavatory.

And the fourth corner was filled with recently emptied takeout containers, chip bags, and giant boxes of beer refilled with empty cans. It had once held the only chair in the cabin. Vinnie had since dragged the chair to the middle of the room.

Which was where she sat now, zip tied at her ankles and wrists much too tightly. The skin underneath her restraints was already turning red on its way to being raw.

Smoke burned her eyes because the men had tried to get warm by filling a heavy metal bowl with some of their trash and setting it on fire. Which, best she could tell, produced copious amounts of smoke and no heat whatsoever.

Vinnie refused to look at her. He had a wicked looking knife he kept flinging at the wall like he was a knife thrower in a circus.

Holding the knife by the blade, he threw it at the wall where it stuck, vibrating, he retrieved it only to return to his spot and throw it again. “There is no discussion here, Lando. Nico said nothing is to happen to the girl and he put me in charge of making sure his wishes were obeyed. So, we do what I say we do.” He paused long enough to glare at the man who’d sat on her left in the truck.

“I don’t have to touch her to get information out of her,” Lando said.

She wanted her Daddy. He might not wear eight thousand dollar suits, but he looked better in a pair of faded jeans and a henley shirt than any of these men ever would. Staring at the door, she willed him to burst through and take her away from this awful place.

Her heart raced. They didn’t have to interrogate her. All they had to do was ask and she’d tell them whatever they wanted to know. She’d even make up something they wanted to hear. But what could she possibly know that would interest them?

She had a sick feeling this was only a temporary stop. There was no way Nico Midnight, who owned his own helicopter and ran one of the largest families in the Cosa Nostra, would stay in a dump like this. If Boone didn’t come before Nico arrived, she might never see him again.

She bit her bottom lip so the men wouldn’t see it tremble. There was one thing she’d learned from the General, and that was never to show fear. If Vinnie was in charge, maybe she could be nice to him and he would let her go.

Vinnie tossed the knife again, only this time he spun and threw it straight at Lando. It came so close to his face it cut his ear as it zinged past and thunked into the wall.

Tildi screamed, her heart thundering. Lando’s hand clutched his bleeding ear. Vinnie stared at Lando, his dark eyes the color of coal. “I said, no. Do you get me?”

Lando’s face lost what little color it had left. He nodded. “Yeah, yeah. Sure, Vinnie. Whatever you say.”

Vinnie held his gaze a bit longer, then smiled. “Good. Bring me my knife.”

Lando did as he was told, crossing to the knife stuck in the wall. He pulled the knife free. She caught his gaze as he turned back to the room and for half a second, she thought he might throw the knife at her.

Then his gaze turned to Vinnie, and she knew. As Lando pulled back his arm to throw the blade, sheer instinct had her scream a warning. If Lando killed Vinnie, she would surely be next, orders to the contrary or not.

Vinnie rushed at Lando, which was fortunate. The distraction was all the eight, large angry men streaming through the door needed.

Relief flooded her entire body. Her Daddy was here at last. The world had shifted back into place.

CHAPTER 21

Sev’s men met them at Cabin 37. Once they explained the plan, they made their way to Cabin 44 without speaking. The time for words was over. Boone was never one for talking, anyway. He was a man of action and now was the time to act.

He kept his body low to the ground as he and the others approached the dilapidated cabin. He looked at Sev one more time, just to confirm they had the right one. Sev gave him a chin lift and kept heading toward the ramshackled structure, so Boone did, too.

Judson had cabins in much better shape. This one still had a roof, which must be the only reason they had for choosing one this far into the woods surrounding the quarry. It was in such bad shape it was a miracle Judson had realized someone was there at all.

They’d strategized different plans on the way there. Sev suggested half of them go in the front and the rest come in the back. Boone wasn’t interested in setting up another situation where Tildi could get caught in the crossfire, so they were all going in the front.

As soon as he heard the shouting from inside, he knew they had the right place. His plan had been to go in as a wall of invaders to overwhelm the men before they had a chance to do anything to Tildi.

Then he heard her scream. Thoughts of anything but getting to his Little girl flew out the window. He lowered his shoulder and tackled the door like a high school linebacker.