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Cursing, he slammed his laptop closed and bolted for the bathroom. He barely made it before he threw up what little dinner Laila had managed to coax him into choking down.

After rinsing his mouth, he emerged, pale but composed, and found the team still in the conference room, waiting in taut silence, except Matt, doing his best to quietly calm his wife over the phone.

“Get through the house rules?” he asked Kane. “What are we up against?”

“Sorry. Still reading the terms and conditions. They’ve left themselves a lot of loopholes and latitude to enforce their directives.”

“I don’t like it.” Hunter resumed pacing.

“Reading all this shit, I like it even less. Everything is sketchy as fuck. The weasel words and obfuscation…” Kane finally lifted his head. “You won her, but this isn’t a done deal, man. We’ll have to tread carefully.”

“We’ll know more soon,” Trees cut in. “Jasper just received an email, confirming your purchase and including the payment wiring instructions. Further information will come within the hour.”

Nash nodded. Phase one complete. It was a step in the right direction. But now came the hard part.

“I’ve just received Kaylee’s coordinates,” Ethan added. “Same island. I have forty-eight hours to retrieve her in person.”

“We’re going.” Nash’s voice was raw. “And I’m going to burn their whole fucking operation to the ground.”

No one argued. They’d all seen the auction. All witnessed the horror.

And they’d all sworn to end it.

“As soon as you receive your instructions, I’ll arrange Kaylee’s release so we can rescue both women.”

Nash hated to leave the girl in there a second longer than necessary, but better to have strength in numbers…just in case. “I’ll let you know as soon as I’ve got the info.”

“Madison is so relieved her bestie is one step closer to home. Haisley sure held it together up there,” Matt praised her quietly. “She stayed strong.”

“Yeah.” Pride mixed with fury, roiling in Nash’s chest. “She did.”

Now he just had to get to her before those bastards harmed her any further.

Because he’d die before he let them break her.

CHAPTER FOUR

Haisley’s legs trembled as the beefy guards escorted her from the stage, the auctioneer’s voice already concluding the evening. Her skin crawled where his eyes had lingered, where the cameras had broadcast her body to God knows how many twisted perverts willing to buy another human being for their pleasure.

And one of them had caught her attention: JasperTheDick.

The name nagged at her. Could it possibly be JasperThePrivateDick from her Crime Solvers International forum? The username she’d chatted with for hours about cold cases and investigation techniques?

No. That must be a coincidence. Or was it? The timing was awfully perfect. Too perfect. Somewhere along the way, she’d heard a quote that had stuck with her:That’s too coincidental to be a coincidence.So…

Either Jasper had been playing her all along, pretending to be her friend while sizing her up as merchandise, or after her disappearance, he’d somehow traced her here and was trying to help her escape. She didn’t know which scenario to hope for—that a supposed friend had betrayed her, or that her only potential ally was walking into this nightmare thinking he could save her.

She tucked that worry away when a flash of familiar dark hair caught her attention. Amy, her former cellmate, was being led down an intersecting hallway. Their eyes met for a brief moment. The terror in Amy’s expression made Haisley’s heart clench.

Without thinking, she reached out, caught Amy’s hand as they passed. Squeezed. The guards didn’t stop them—probably thought the gesture pathetic rather than threatening.

“Stay strong,” Haisley whispered.

Amy nodded. Then she was gone, another victim being led away to whatever horror awaited her—with no end in sight.

I’ll find a way out. And when I do, I’m coming back for you. For all of you.

Instead of returning her to her cell, the guards steered her through a maze of corridors to a large, empty room with marble floors and gilded mirrors that reflected her barely covered body at every angle. Two other women in similar scraps of silk were already there—her fellow “breeders” who had been auctioned tonight. Their faces showed varying degrees of fear and despair. The honey blonde couldn’t be more than nineteen, terrified and struggling not to cry. The other, a willowy brunette with a dancer’s posture, maintained a mask of cold dignity despite her trembling hands.