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out of sight of the girl, but with yesterday’s little stunt he had made sure Domenic would be implicated in her kidnapping should she be rescued.
    Of course Carlo had no clue Domenic hadn’t actually raped the girl, but that wouldn’t matter to the police. Domenic knew about Alexis Montgomery’s abduction and where she was being held—that would be enough to secure his guilt. That sneaky bastard boss of his knew what he was doing. If Carlo was going down, he wanted to bring Domenic with him. Once again, he wondered if Carlo had some kind of suspicion about him and his intentions. The old fox had been around twice as long, but they’d see who would win this game of cat and mouse.
    Satisfied he wasn’t being followed, he pulled down the long rutted path leading toward the back of the warehouse. Domenic parked the car, checked his weapons, and got out. Out of habit, he looked at his reflection in the car window and ran a hand through his hair.
    What the fuck are you doing, he thought impatiently. You’re going to see a captive, not your prom date.
    Domenic turned on his heel and headed into the building. As before, he had to wait a little bit in order to see the way in front of him. There were no voices, and he leaned his head to the side to listen closer. Still nothing. He stepped forward cautiously until he reached the large room. Vince was sitting there by himself, messing around with his phone.
    “Where’s Marco?” Domenic demanded, resisting the urge to snicker in disgust when Vince jumped, sending his phone clattering to the floor.
    “Fuck!” Vince said angrily as he bent to retrieve it. “You could have given me some warning!” He had his phone in his hand, brushing it off mournfully.
    “Are you fucking serious?” Domenic seethed. “What kind of guard are you? I could have been anyone! Where the fuck is Marco!” Domenic took a menacing step toward Vince and watched with satisfaction as the other man cowered back for a second.
    “He’s home probably,” Vince mumbled. “We’ve been doing shifts. It’s not like she can get out or anything,” he said, his jaw tightening like a vise. Domenic had a mind to smash it with his fist.
    “Fucking idiots,” he said under his breath before walking toward the door and pulling it open. The girl was kneeling on the bed, in the corner, eyes wide. She had obviously heard him yelling. He stepped in and gave her a once over. Besides the look of fear stamped on her features, she looked fine.
    “Make yourself useful,” he called over his shoulder. “Empty this fucking thing!” he said, pointing to the bucket in the corner. Vince scuttled past him and grabbed the handle, leaving the room. “Go for a walk. I don’t want to see your face back here for at least twenty minutes.”
    “But, Carlo—” he began.
    “I’ll handle Carlo. Get the fuck out.”
    Domenic glared at him. Vince nodded and walked out of the main room. When Domenic heard the door out in the hallway clang shut, he turned back to the girl. She was watching him warily, as if he was some kind of dangerous animal. Well, at least she had one thing right. He was dangerous.
    She looked horrible. Much worse than when he’d left her yesterday. Her hair was a mess, her face was still tearstained, and there was filth and dirt smeared over her hands and clothes. It was obvious from the bags under her eyes that she hadn’t been sleeping. Not that Domenic could blame her. He could feel the fear coming off her in waves, and yet she was crouched down, looking ready to spring at him. Her hands were clenched into fists at her sides, and her face was pinched in what he assumed was supposed to be a threatening expression. Claws on a kitten, he noted with some amusement.
    Domenic held his hands up and walked to the solitary chair in the room. Hooking it with his foot, he dragged it toward him and straddled it. The girl calmed, but still kept her defensive posture. Yes, she was a fighter. He felt a small surge of