Jackson snarled something indistinct but nodded.
"Doesn't sit right with me, either." Spencer kept his gaze on her, willing her to caution. "But she didn't think we'd let her do this on her own-"
"And we fucking wouldn't have!"
"-so this is her way of proving herself." Of getting the respect she needed.
The respect she deserved.
No more trying to change her.
They both fell silent as they considered the setting.
Her idiot captors had her on a thin, narrow mattress, in a middle room, but in view of a window. Quin hovered near her side, traces of blood now smeared over his face, and his nose, upper lip and chin purpling with bruises. The kid probably had a broken nose-not that Spencer would spare him any real sympathy. Not yet anyway.
Joel Pitts stood at the foot of the mattress, staring at Arizona and literally rubbing his hands together.
Clichéd prick.
Lowering the binoculars, Spencer asked, "You got a clear shot from here?"
A crack sniper, Jackson lined it up, and said, "Yep." He continued to look through the scope, then lowered the rifle. "The thing is … you won't like this, Spencer."
His heart slammed to a standstill. He put the binoculars up again. "What is it? What's wrong?"
"Arizona is giving me the signal to wait."
Tension vibrated through him. "There's a fucking signal for that?"
Jackson scratched his ear. "There's pretty much a signal for everything."
He couldn't believe it. "So she knows we're here?"
"She's sharp as a tack, so, yeah." He rolled to his back and pulled out his cell. "And it looks like she's awake, pissed off and determined to call the shots."
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
ARIZONA DID HER BEST to ignore the pain in her head. It throbbed, pulsed, and every so often, her stomach cramped as if she might puke.
But since her hands were tied behind her, and she didn't have a bucket handy, that'd be really gross.
"I think you scrambled my brains."
At hearing her speak, Joel jumped in delight, expectation bright on his face. He drew a shuddering breath of excitement when she sat up straighter. "You're awake!"
"Barely, asshole. What's your deal, anyway?"
He shriveled back. "Listen to that language. What is wrong with you?"
"Me?" He had to be kidding. "You're the lunatic, bud."
She struggled upright a little more, relieved to realize that while her hands were tied behind her, the idiots hadn't taken her knife. She felt the familiar pressure of the sheath against her spine and the shape of the handle against her wrists.
Real observant, bozos. "Oh, God." Her head felt like it might topple right off her shoulders. Through narrow, pain-filled eyes, she looked around at her surroundings. They'd planned for her. They'd planned the whole thing. "What did you do?"
"I brought you home. Well, not really home. Just where I can see you more-and see more of you." He reached out to touch the top of her shirt.
Arizona used her feet to kick him backward. "Paws off!"
Her venom surprised him. He stumbled, barely catching himself, then rubbed his midsection where her heels had struck him. "You're angry?"
"Angry?" Yanking at her bindings only made her head hurt more, but it'd be expected-and then, when she wiggled her knife free, they wouldn't suspect anything. "Cut me loose and we'll see how angry I am."
"But … " Bewildered, he shook his head. "You're not afraid?"
"Of a dead man?" She snorted. "Get real."
That surprised a short laugh out of him. He held out his hands. "But I'm not dead."
"Yeah, you are. You're just too stupid to know it yet." To be on the safe side, she again looked toward the window and gave another abrupt shake of her head. She'd seen the glint of sunlight-probably off binoculars, or a rifle barrel, or a scope-the second she'd come to.
Spencer had found her. Earlier than expected. So did that mean Marla had tattled early?
And if she had … well then, Marla must not want her gone for good. Friend was a word she didn't quite trust, but she could maybe count Marla as an ally.
"You should stop struggling, because you can't get your hands free. And now that you're awake, I'm going to fasten them to the grommet in the floor."
"Yeah-not happening." She'd kick in his face before she let him do that-or die trying. "Come near me, and you'll be sorry."
One brow lifted with interest. "How?"
"Try touching me and you'll damn well find out." Best bet was that Spencer had Jackson with him. And maybe even the other two …
Her stomach roiled again, and she had to breathe fast to settle it. Barfing was not an option. Off to her side, Quin cowered, silent and sad, his face a mess.
Arizona spared him one look of apology, then dismissed him. He wasn't a threat. "Look, Joel-" She paused. "Not your real name, I don't suppose?"
"Actually, it is."
"Great." How had she so badly misjudged him? "You're not only a psychopath, you're an idiot, too."
His eyes narrowed. "You will stop insulting me."
"Or what? You'll kidnap me? Hit me in the head?" She looked around. "Tie me up in a dirty room on a lumpy mattress-"
"Shut up!"
She huffed out a long breath while wiggling again as if trying to get her hands free.
She almost had her knife. "So where'd the other goons go?"
"They're keeping watch."
"Outside?" Wow, that'd be … too perfect.
"Yes."
Satisfaction tipped up her mouth, but she quickly wiped it away. "Listen up, Joel. If you let me loose now, I can maybe keep you alive, otherwise-"
In a startling, unexpected move, he jerked to his feet and viciously backhanded her.
Given the earlier bonk to her brain, well, yeah, she reacted sluggishly-so he got her good. Her head snapped to the side.
Blood dripped from her lip, and she licked it away, then worked her jaw. Hopefully that was the best he had.
"Know what, Joel?" Through narrowed eyes and a distinct lack of generosity, she met his gaze again. "Now I hope they do kill you."
Quinto took a shivering breath. "He is not Joel anymore."
Whoa … "Come again?"
"Joel is an idiot," said … Joel.
Arizona lowered her chin, stared at him anew and wanted to howl in frustration. In an aside to Quinto, she asked, "What's this? Who's this?"
"I'm one and the same," Joel drawled, "but I'm stronger. I'm not a fool. I'm not a weak, mewling artist."
Oh, for the love of … It needed only this. Arizona couldn't help but laugh. When his face tightened, she laughed some more. "Here I was, doubting my instincts, thinking I'd really blown it. But of course I didn't know you were a bad guy. I mean, the dude I met wasn't, right? So how could I have known?"
"You couldn't."
Amazingly, she felt better about things. At least now she knew her judgment wasn't completely screwed. "So you're … what?" She snickered. "Like Jekyll and Hyde?"
"You dare to laugh at me?" He bunched up in outrage, his hands fisting, his face flushing. "You're insane."
"Yeah-says the kettle to the pot." She spat blood and got her fingers around the hilt of her blade. "Jesus. My head is throbbing like a marching band."
"You're not natural."
"Yeah, I know." She looked at the window again and gave another shake of her head. Neither Quinto nor Joel paid any attention. They assumed she was clearing her thoughts. "So, Joel-number-two, did you know they ran a trafficking ring?"
He went still.
"Yeah, stow the surprise. I know all about their dirty little business." In tiny increments, she slid her knife free of the sheath. "Those morons? Terry and Carl and everyone else associated with selling humans, well, they'll be rotting in hell right about now. But you, you walked free."
"Yes."
"So tell me, did you know what they did? Did you know they bought and sold people?"
"Since I own the place, of course I knew."
Her thoughts reeled. "You own it?"
Joel shrugged. "That's why Joel hung around. To comfort the ones that got away."
Oh. My. God. He really was totally cuckoo. "That'd be Joel-one, right?"
"We are one and the same!"
"But Joel-two," she said, ignoring the bite of his insanity, "you didn't comfort them?"
His lip curled in disdain, making him look very, very different from the needy artist. "They were used up, destroyed. Dirty. I took care of them when no one else wanted them any longer."