“Okay, okay.” Placating, Dash held up his hands and took a step away from her. “No problem.”

So much anger radiated off of Dash that it worried Margo. To anyone who didn’t know him, it might not be noticeable. He looked calm, collected, but alert.

Margo did know him, though, and she saw that he kept his composure with a strict and enviable discipline.

“Over there,” the man said, gesturing toward a wooden dining chair that had been placed in the far corner of the living room. “Take a seat. Now.”

His gaze constantly burning over the three men, Dash walked over and seated himself.

“Good, good.” The bossy one handed nylon hand ties to Yvette. “You’re going to fasten his hands behind him to the chair rails. But first...” Grinning, he poured more kerosene on her legs, her feet, soaking her jeans up to her knees.

Screeching, she struggled to move away, high-stepping, recoiling, but he locked an arm around her, holding her tight, the lighter in his hand pressing into her stomach.

The brother giggled and wiggled as if the terror excited him.

Only the muscleman stayed silent and deadly, his ebony gaze going steadily back and forth from Dash, Cannon and Margo, his gun raised, his finger on the trigger.

That one, she decided, wanted a reason to kill. The gunshot, however, would draw notice. And if he tried it, well, she had her own gun within reach and—

“Toby,” the main man said, “if she moves even an inch, shoot her.”

Eyes narrowing in satisfaction, Toby nodded.

She had one name now. Margo wanted the other names. She wanted to be able to address them more casually. The more familiar she could make things, the better her chances.

The head guy pushed Yvette toward Dash, saying, “Hurry it up or your grandpa will pay.”

Stumbling, trailing kerosene everywhere, Yvette rushed over to Dash.

“It’s okay,” Dash said softly. “You’re doing great.” He put his hands behind him.

It was a bad time for Margo’s heart to expand, but that didn’t stop it from happening. God love the man for reassuring Yvette.

“You see, bitch,” said the head honcho, “I know you’re still armed. I know you’re a cop. I know everything about you.”

“My name?”

“Lieutenant Margaret Peterson.” He posed, studying her. “I put a bounty out on you, didn’t get even a nibble, and now, here you are.” And then to Yvette he bellowed, “Hurry it up, damn it! Lash his hands together and then lash them again through the rails.”

Biting her lip, concentrating hard, Yvette got Dash secured and jumped back, as if she might be punished for not finishing on time.

Margo was about to ask for their names in return when he ordered, “Saul, go and check that it’s done right.”

The idiot rushed to do just that—making certain he skirted the kerosene. Holding the gun to Dash’s temple with one hand, he used the other to test the restraints.

Margo was deathly afraid that someone as unbalanced as Saul might accidentally shoot. Dash must’ve had the same thought, especially since Saul kept his finger on the trigger. Dash didn’t even blink. He stared at nothing, staying perfectly still.

“It’s fine, Curtis.”

“Good. Good. Now get her gun.”

At that, Saul hesitated.

Now she knew all their names. Margo gave him her meanest smile. “The women in the videos—”

“What about them?”

“Where are they?”

“The videos?”

“You don’t need to play dumb. I’m already a believer.”

His mouth compressed. “As long as they don’t force us to kill them, we dump the women after we’re done with them.”

“Dump them where?”

He shrugged. “Anyplace convenient. They don’t know us, are too doped up to remember anything, and usually aren’t in a hurry to go blabbing about their exploits.”

It gave her hope that perhaps the other women involved were still alive. “What constitutes forcing you to murder?”

“Usually that’s an error.” And with that Curtis glared at Saul. “If everything is handled correctly, the women are grabbed, drugged, used and dumped. Nice and neat. But Saul has been...messy a few times. And of course, we can’t have women running around who know what he looks like.” He grinned at her, making sure she knew that she was in that same category.

Luckily Yvette didn’t seem to catch on. She could still have hope that they’d get away.

“Damn it, Saul, get her gun!”

Margo turned to the brother. “Come on, Saul. Be a good baby brother and do as you’re told.”

Toby snarled. “She’s trouble. We should take care of her now. I could drag her to the basement and shoot her down there. No one would hear a thing.”

Dash stiffened.

“Oh, no,” Curtis said. “I’m going to enjoy watching her beg.”

Well, hell, Margo thought. That wouldn’t do much to help calm Dash. She stole a quick look at him and saw his eyes narrow, his shoulders bunch. But otherwise he kept quiet.

When he looked at her, she gave an almost indistinguishable shake of her head.

“You and Saul will enjoy her,” Curtis continued. “And once she’s broken, after she’s sobbing and desperate, then we’ll kill her. But not before.”

Proving he was smarter than the others, Toby curled his lip and shook his head. “Saul can have her. I’ll take the girl.”

This disruption to his plans clearly disgusted Curtis, but he accepted Toby’s decision. “Suit yourself.”

With a lecherous look at Yvette, Toby said, “Oh, I plan to.”

Yvette wrapped her arms tightly around herself and stared at her feet.

Cannon still hadn’t moved, hadn’t spoken. Other than an occasional flinching in his jaw, he remained perfectly still.

When Curtis barked, “Goddamn it, Saul, don’t make me tell you again!” Yvette jumped and cried out.

Putting his arm around her, Toby held her tight to his bulky body. “Easy now, little girl. Things are just getting started.” He rubbed his goatee against her face, bit a little roughly at her ear. “No screaming before I give you a good reason.”

Margo held out her arms while Saul—oh, so cautiously—snatched away her purse. He grabbed the gun off the table and literally bolted, high-stepping around the kerosene to place everything on the dining room table behind them.

“You share the videos,” Margo said.

“With each other, of course.”

“No.” She shook her head. “With other swine.”

She could tell her insults were starting to grate on him. The muscles in his neck and shoulders flexed and twitched. “Yes, on occasion, I share. It pays to appease people in high places just in case my plans go awry and I need assistance.”

High places? Like...in the police department? Her stomach knotted and her lungs compressed.

“Now,” Curtis said to Cannon, unconcerned with her distress. “Who exactly are you?”

“He’s no one,” Yvette rushed to say. “He’s just a neighbor. He—”

Toby grabbed her face in his big hand, squeezing so that she had to look up at him. He stared into her eyes...and laughed. “Damn, but I think she’s smitten.”

Curtis smiled over that. “A boyfriend? Interesting.”

“He’s not!”

Ignoring her, Curtis pondered things. “I can imagine all kinds of interesting scenarios between the two of them.”

“Fuck that,” Toby said. “I’m not sharing.”

At the same time, getting so excited he damned near drooled on himself, Saul asked, “Like what?”

“I’ll tell you after we set up the camera. Now, young man.” He waved his finger in a circle. “Hands up while you turn around so we can see that you’re not hiding a weapon.”

Cannon raised his hands and slowly did a turn. Margo saw the bunching of his muscles under his shirt and in his thighs. He was coiled so tightly she wondered that the trippy trio didn’t worry more about it.

“Good, good. Saul, go and secure his hands.” And then to Cannon, “Make one wrong move, and Toby will break her neck. Do we understand each other?”

With no discernible emotion at all, Cannon stared at him. “Perfectly.”

Wow, Margo thought. Cannon was so contained. Both he and Dash were handling things as well as could be expected. No posturing, no drawing undue attention or escalating the tension with ineffectual cursing and struggles.

Cannon stood docile while Saul wrenched his hands back and looped the nylon cuffs around him, zipping them tightly. Cannon’s gaze met hers, and they both understood.

Saul didn’t realize that the restraints needed to be against the skin, not over a long-sleeved T-shirt and jacket.

Cannon turned his back to the wall and stood still. With any luck, Yvette had secured Dash the same way—meaning Dash might be able to get his hands free.

Oh, God, please let us have an advantage.

“She’s up to something,” Toby said.

Margo gave a caustic laugh. “Easy, Toby. Keep that up and everyone is going to think you’re afraid of me!”

“No.” Still holding the knife, Toby rubbed his hand over Yvette’s stomach. “I just don’t want you.”

“Because I make you nervous,” Margo taunted. “I do understand.”

Curtis moved Tipton forward and pushed him roughly into his lounge chair. Tipton bit back an agonizing groan. “Sit in the chair, old man, and don’t move.” Then he grinned at Toby. “You know, I’m starting to think she might be right. Does the little lady scare you?”

“No.”

“She’s...what? Five-four? Maybe weighs a buck-ten?”

Margo shrugged. “Height is right, but you’re off by seven pounds.” Sneering, she added, “Maybe it’s those extra seven pounds that concern old Toby.”

Taking the bait, Toby stopped his unwelcome caress on Yvette and glared at her.

“What?” Margo said, and she prayed Dash would understand. “You want me to play the victim, Toby? Is that it? You want the helpless little woman to cower and cry over the big, bad man?”

Dash’s head jerked up and he breathed harder.

“Yes.” Pushing Yvette aside so roughly she almost fell, Toby took a step forward. “That’s exactly what I want.”

“Toby,” Curtis said in soft warning. “I have plans for her. Do not even think about stealing my fun.”

Filled with evil intent, Toby put his gun and knife behind him on the dining room table, right next to Margo’s purse and weapon. “I won’t kill her,” he said. “I’ll just get her warmed up for you.”

“Don’t be stupid.” Curtis handed over the heavy can. “Douse the men in kerosene first.”

Yvette was nearly hysterical, but Toby grabbed her hair and licked her cheek. “No more on you, honey,” he said against her skin. “I’m going to play with you and I don’t want that shit on me. But if you don’t stand there quietly and be a good girl I’ll fucking drown you in it, then just give you a bath before I have my fun.”

Wanting their attention on her, not anyone else, Margo got snide again. “Chickenshit bastard.”

Forgetting his order, Toby started for her, his intent plain.

Dash struggled to free his arms.

Margo ignored him—and his lack of trust. “Afraid of a real woman, aren’t you, Toby? It’s easy to dominate a girl, to play caveman and conqueror against someone so young and—”

Reaching her in three long strides, Toby backhanded her.

Margo staggered but didn’t fall. Her cheek throbbed, her jaw ached, but luckily he hadn’t broken anything. She didn’t show any pain, didn’t rub her face or tear up.

“Toby,” Curtis chastised, but he sounded entertained.

“You’re going to watch,” Toby said, “as I rape her.”

Margo made herself stare into his black eyes, her own gaze unflinching. “That makes you more comfortable, doesn’t it? Attacking a child instead of a woman? Bullying someone who’s so young and afraid. Maybe,” she continued, “because you can’t get it up otherwise.”

“Jesus,” Cannon mumbled under his breath.

Dash just stared at her. Did he remember their game of victim, how she showed him her ruse? Please don’t let him interfere, she thought. If he pushed them and got shot, or... She almost shuddered at the awful thought. No, they wouldn’t burn anyone. Not yet.

“I bet none of you prickless wonders would know what to do with a real woman.”

Toby reached for her—but Curtis said, “No.”

Breathing hard, Toby stopped, even stepped back from her.

Maybe because she’d included him in her insults, Curtis went coldly furious. “You’re going to regret that smart mouth, bitch.”

“A smart mouth is better than a dumb ass any day.”