Page 61 of Protecting Bree
The man who’d reached for his pants finally growled, stood up, and kicked her.
Bree tried to curl into a ball, but the other men were holding her too tightly. Soon, however, they joined their buddy in punching the crap out of her. Unfortunately, this was also familiar. She was beaten at that other shipyard, as well, back when she’d helped Ellory and Yana.
Bree would take a beating over a rape any day of the week.
Doing her best to protect her most vulnerable parts, she was relieved that the men were concentrating on her, despite the pain. Hopefully that meant Julie and Fiona had gotten away. Had found a place to hide. She refused to think her sacrifice was for nothing.
She was strong. She could do this.
Repeating the words she’d heard from Smiley, over and over in her head, Bree didn’t even notice when the men had stopped hurting her, and she’d been thrown over one of their shoulders.
She lay there, stunned and bleeding. All the fight gone out of her now. If they decided to assault her, she wouldn’t be able to do much to stop them. But it seemed the men who’d chased her down were more scared of their boss—Mateo, she assumed—to do anything other than take her to wherever she’d been ordered to go.
Blood dripped down her temple and fell to the groundas she was carried back to the truck with the chickens. She could hear their shouts as they got near.
“Carlos!” one of the men yelled. “Quit fucking around…literally. Get your ass out herenow!”
But of course, Carlos didn’t appear from inside the truck.
“Damn it! Go get him,” the man holding her ordered the others.
They hopped into the truck, sending the chickens into another round of loud squawking. Bree couldn’t hold back a small smile, knowing what they were about to find.
“He’s dead!” one of the men exclaimed, quickly reappearing in the open doorway.
“What? How?”
“Don’t know. He’s covered in blood, still wearing the respirator.”
“And the other girls are gone,” the second man said grimly, coming up beside the first.
The man holding her swore so long and viciously, Bree’s smile grew.
Fuck him. Fuck them all.
“How the fuck did this bitch kill him?” one of the men asked, jumping out of the truck.
“I don’t know. But Boss is gonna be furious. We need to come up with a story. Otherwise, we’re screwed.”
Bree didn’t feel the least bit sorry for these assholes.
“Give her to me,” one of the other two ordered, his tone lethal.
“No. Back off, John,” said the man holding her. “I know you’re pissed but if we kill her, the boss’ll fucking killus. You know how much time and money he’s spent tracking her down. And he’s already paid to bring her to Ecuador.”
The man, John, grabbed Bree’s hair and forced her head up, where it hung over the shoulder of his colleague.
“Youbitch,” he growled, his teeth bared. “Where are the others?”
“Gone,” she rasped. “And their Navy SEAL husbands are on their way right this second to take you assholes out.”
“Yeah, right,” the man scoffed. But Bree could hear the concern in his tone.
She had a moment to feel proud of herself before he pulled his arm back, still holding her hair, and brought his fist forward.
That was the last thing she remembered before the world went blissfully dark and she felt no more pain.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
