Zane's Redemption
Page 93

 Tina Folsom

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Eddie pointed to a small spot in the center of the bed. “There. That’s blood.”
When Samson turned slowly, for the first time since he’d arrived at the cabin, his features showed something other than outrage. A small flicker of realization shone through his eyes, together with a sigh of relief. Had Samson really expected to find a bloodbath in the bedroom?
“She was a virgin, just like she told me,” Zane admitted. And nobody had believed him. “I did what I had to do.”
Samson closed his eyes. “It doesn’t change anything about what you did. You kidnapped her.”
“She asked me to do it!” Zane snarled.
“It wasn’t for her to ask. She’s a minor! And she was in your care!” Samson yelled.
“Oh, I took care of her.”
“You were her bodyguard. Nowhere in our rules does that allow you to touch her! You fucking shit!”
That did it. “I don’t care about your rules! I quit!”
“You don’t get to quit! This is not over! Not by a long shot!” Samson ran his hands through his dark hair and motioned to Haven and Eddie. “Handcuff him and get him to the jet. Amaury and I will take Zane’s Hummer.”
Then he gave Zane another look. “If you harmed her, I will have you executed.”
Haven slipped his gloves on and pulled something from his jacket pocket. Zane glanced at it, recognizing the silver handcuffs instantly.
“Assholes!”
But he didn’t protest when they laid the silver restraints on his wrists and clicked them shut, nor did he show any outward signs of the pain the silver caused him. His skin hissed, and the smell of burning flesh spread in the crowded room, but he merely clenched his jaw, not allowing any sound of pain to come over his lips.
“One last time: where is she?” Samson asked.
Zane lifted his head. “She ran away when I told her that I didn’t want to see her anymore.” It was the truth, in a way. He omitted that he’d also threatened her. It wasn’t Samson’s business. What was true was that he hadn’t harmed her.
“She thinks she loves me,” he said more to himself than to the others. She would get over it. She was young, and right now she hated him. It would make things easier. As for how he would survive the pain, he was lost for an answer.
“Amaury,” Samson ordered, “you and I, we’ll canvass the surroundings, see if we can pick up her scent or any trail in the snow. We have to find her.”
Amaury nodded, then tossed Zane a pissed off look. “You’ve got a lot of explaining to do. And if you think you’ll get off easy, think again. Samson is being lenient when he offers you an execution. I have other ideas to make you pay, asshole.”
“I haven’t done anything to her,” Zane hissed.
“You have no clue about women! Maybe you haven’t hurt her physically, but you have no idea what women are capable of doing to themselves when they feel wronged. Ever thought of that?” Amaury turned to follow Samson outside.
No, Portia wouldn’t hurt herself. She was strong. She was a survivor. He didn’t want to believe it. Trying to push Amaury’s last words from his mind, Zane looked at his two jailors. “Great, I got stuck with you two: a civilian and a newbie.”
Haven bent closer. “I’m not susceptible to your little digs, so save your breath.”
Zane growled and walked into the living room, flanked by Eddie and Haven. Z waddled toward him, a confused look on his face, dragging Portia’s bra with him between this teeth.
“We can’t leave him here.” Zane motioned his bound hands toward the dog.
Haven raised an inquiring eyebrow, and Eddie twisted his lips. “You thought we were gonna leave the pup?” Eddie asked and shook his head. “We’re not heartless.”
“Unlike other people here,” Haven added.
“If I had a heart, I’d be wounded now,” Zane snapped, “luckily, I’m all out of heart for today. So get a move on.”
But despite his harsh words, relief washed over Zane when Eddie picked up the dog and carried him outside. Zane kept his mouth shut on the drive to the small airport where one of Scanguards’ custom-equipped private jets waited. Neither Eddie nor Haven seemed to be in the mood to talk either. Only Z provided some company on the bleak half hour flight, curling up on his lap. But stroking the only creature that still cared for him wasn’t possible. Zane’s wrists ached from the chafing silver that ate his skin and exposed the flesh beneath.
And he deserved it.