THE PERFECT TEN (Boxed Set)

garage long ago.
    Other than a five-gallon plastic bucket next to an office-type door, the room was void of any furnishings.
    She should go check the door, but common sense, fickle animal that it was, came to her aid. Sometimes common sense told her to do something she’d really rather not. Other times, like now, it convinced her to sit still since she felt sick as the devil and that door was very likely locked. And, even if it wasn’t, there was a good chance someone guarded the other side.
    Sliding back down to a horizontal position, she tried to use mind over matter to will her body to stop hurting, but a full night’s sleep and an ice pack would do more good.
    She massaged her forehead and worked to recall what had happened. Blurry images of running through the apartment and being knocked to her knees were the first things she remembered. Most details were vague, but not the chilling gray eyes belonging to a behemoth of a man.
    What had he done? She took a quick mental inventory of her body. Of all the pain coursing through her, none indicated she’d been sexually attacked.
    Yet.
    An attacker with restraint? Morals? Her mind rambled back to the apartment and Trish stepping into the room. She’d yelled at Trish to run.
    The fact that Trish was not here with her should indicate she’d gotten away. Or, had the man left Angel alone because he’d attacked Trish?
    Her stomach flopped again. Had Zane’s sister been hurt or worse? Guilt pushed through her physical misery. She’d brought this danger into Zane’s home. What a way to repay his generosity.
    If he returned to find Trish hurt he’d never regret anything more in his life than the night Angel had stowed away on his airplane.
    She sucked in a breath, rolled over, and eased into a sitting position, then slapped a hand over her mouth in a feeble attempt to stop the coffee she’d drunk that morning from showing up again.
    Her head pounded in complaint over the thirty-inch change in altitude. Little by little, stars chasing around in front of her eyes disappeared. Her watch was missing, along with one of her shoes. How long had she been there?
    Prepared for the ache in her side, she struggled to a standing position. The room listed to one side, then righted.
    Careful not to make a noise, she tiptoed across the room. She pressed her ear against the scarred door, but her gaze traveled down to the five-gallon bucket half-filled with sand. A roll of paper towels sat beside it.
    Her litter box?
    Muffled voices came through.
    She recognized the first one as belonging to the man who’d caught her.
    “ – me back a double burger, two fries and a big Coke. Make that two double burgers. I worked up an appetite dragging that bitch here.”
    “How long we staying, CK?” came from a second nasally voice.
    “Until ML gets here. Says he’ll deal with her himself.”
    So her attacker was called CK. What could that stand for?
    “What about the storm? How’s ML going to get here if the airport shuts down?” the whiny one asked.
    “He’ll get here. It may take a little longer, but he’s coming. Don’t doubt it. The man wants her bad,” CK said.
    Angel couldn’t come up with anyone she’d met whose initials were CK, but ML had to be Mason Lorde.
    Through the door, she heard high-pitched laughter fade with footsteps. CK must have stayed to guard her.
    She knew exactly what Mason meant by dealing with her himself . He’d physically punish her until she gave him the location of the coins.
    Then he’d finish her off.
    How could she tell Mason where the coins were if she didn’t know? The only person who knew was Zane, but she refused to inflict any more pain on him or Trish. She would not sacrifice Zane for her own safety.
    Angel steeled herself for what was to come.
     
    Chapter 41
     
    Zane closed the door behind Heidi and Trish, feeling bad over rushing them out, but he had to go after Angel. Once more, he was thankful for Heidi’s friendship with his sister. Trish had been so distraught over Angel she almost wouldn’t leave.
    His sister had always appeared unconcerned about the world around her, at least to him, but she’d been ready to ride shotgun with him to get Angel back. In that instant, Zane realized he’d severely underestimated Trish’s resilience.
    Angel had tried to point out Trish’s strength to him.
    He’d assured Trish that Angel meant a lot to him, too, and he wasn’t coming back without her.
    Now that he had the coins, he knew what