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I debated my options as the man grinned at me. I was keenly observant and noticed his fingers were covered in ink, the symbols nothing I recognized, but they appeared to be Arabic. Moroccan. Oh, shit. What should I do? With the traffic noise, I seriously doubted the soldiers would hear my cries.

Think. Think.

“Excuse me. This is the ladies’ dressing room,” I said, hoping to buy some time.

His eyes twinkled.

“I’m afraid there’s been a change in your plans. However, you do look astonishing in white. Perhaps that’s the color you’ll be in when we sell you to the highest bidder. You’re coming with me.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you.”

He made the mistake of reaching for me and I knew this was my only chance of getting away. I grabbed the arm holding the weapon as I kicked him right in the groin. When he doubled over in pain, I shoved him with everything I had, managing to knock him into a rack of clothes awaiting to be put in their right place.

He went tumbling to the floor, his massive body tangled in dresses.

I bolted from the room, but before I made it two feet, he grabbed my arm, whirling me around and striking me in the face.

A shriek left my mouth as anguish slammed into my head, my eyes instantly fuzzy, but I refused to be captured. With another hard kick, I managed to yank my arm away, taking off running toward the front of the store. I jerked at the temporary hangers, knocking one then another down in front of him.

The clerk screamed, but I didn’t take time to see if she was okay, making it to the door and rushing outside.

Emiliano reacted first, lunging toward me. “Take her. Get her to safety.”

“Bella!” I yelled in return as I looked over my shoulder. “There’s a man with a gun inside. Moroccan, I think. He wanted…” I couldn’t finish my sentence.

“Stay here,” he told me, knowing that if I’d had my weapon with me, I’d want to storm back into the store.

Two of the soldiers almost body slammed me as they rushed to get me into the back of one SUV. As soon as I was safely inside, I slammed my hands on the passenger glass, peering at the window. I expected to hear gunfire, but Emiliano appeared less than two minutes later, shaking his head.

He jumped inside. “Get us out of here. Now. Now.”

Bella was still gasping for air, but from what I could tell, she seemed fine. I turned toward her. “Are you okay?”

“Yes. I’m fine. What happened? What’s going on?”

Emiliano turned enough so he could see my face. “Do you have any idea who it was?’

“I’ve never seen him before, but he was Arabic. His skin was bronzed, but his English was fluent.”

“Are you certain he was Arabic?”

“Yes. Symbols on his fingers. Where did he go and how did he get inside?”

“Through the back door.”

“It was locked. You had it checked,” I reminded him as the driver glanced into the rearview mirror.

“Yes, I did.” His emphasis on the ‘I’ meant he was taking blame for the incident happening and for not keeping a watch on the rear door. That wouldn’t go over well with Jago. “You’re hurt.”

I touched my face and moved my jaw. I had no doubt I’d eventually have an ugly bruise. “Nothing I can’t handle. Let’s get back to the great castle in the sky.”

I was furious. I was shaking. I was concerned about Bella.

But I wasn’t in the mood to hear any shit from Jago.

CHAPTER 24

Jago