Free The Shaughnessey Accord by Alison Kent Page B

on the lid of the plastic storage crate when Danh ordered, "Stop where you are, Miss Brighton."
    She mentally flipped him off, opened the crate and gathered a handful of napkins. "I will not stop. This man is bleeding."
    She handed the napkins to the professor, then crossed her arms and faced Danh directly. "I'm done here. You obviously don't expect to find anything in his clothing. You're just playing some sick game, and it's got to stop."
    Even as she said it, she sensed the professor removing his belt on her right, Tripp pushing up to his feet on her left. She was in deep shit, she knew it, and she no longer cared. If this was going to be her end, so be it. She just wanted this ridiculous siege of her property over with.
    And then Danh began to laugh, a chuckle that was part desperation, part admiration, and a lot of disbelief. When he finally spoke, it was to call out in his language for one of his henchmen, to whom he issued orders while never breaking eye contact with her.
    She ignored the professor's offering of the belt, turned to Tripp for help and mouthed, What now?
    He cast a brief glance toward the professor, gave an even briefer nod before looking at her again and answering with a silent, Bathroom.
    He wanted her to go to the bathroom. He wanted her out of here. She could only imagine that he had a plan and was sending her out of harm's way. She longed to go, felt she should stay. After all, she was on a roll, albeit a reckless one.
    She inhaled deeply, exhaled, and hurried forward before she lost her nerve. "Mr. Vuong ," was all she got out before his man had taken hold of her upper arm and started propelling her toward the door.
    "What's going on? What are you doing?"
    "I think you need to freshen up, Miss Brighton, and leave the business of negotiation to the men." And that was all she heard.
    Seconds later, she found herself being shoved through the door and into the women's restroom.

Ten

    Glory gripped the edges of the white porcelain sink and hung her head. A part of her wanted to do nothing but break down and sob. Another part of her wasn't sure she'd ever be able to cry again, or if she'd ever have reason to.
    If she couldn't come to real tears over this, the most horrific experience of her twenty-seven years . . .
    Her eyes stung. It was impossible to blink. But still there was nothing. No reaction. Just nothing. Here she was alone, momentarily safe, yet none of the tears that had welled before would come.
    She supposed the mind-racing processes of logic and reasoning had squashed all emotional response. And then she snorted. At least they could've put out some effort to answering her number one burning question.
    Who the hell was Tripp Shaughnessey ?
    She'd only begun to ponder all the possibilities when she heard a quiet scratching against the ceiling tiles overhead. She brought her gaze up slowly, remained absolutely still but for her eyes that searched the mirror's reflection of the small room behind.
    A ceiling tile shifted, dislodged from the frame. A second followed until there was a gaping black hole in the corner nearest the door. She froze, this time not even moving her eyes, staring as a face smeared with camouflage paint appeared in the opening.
    Her heart thundered. She tried to swallow her fear but choked. Her palms grew slick with sweat against the cool porcelain sink.
    The man put a silencing finger to his lips and she nodded, watching mesmerized as he vanished, then reappeared feet first, dropping to the floor behind her.
    She turned around as a second man followed, indistinguishable from the first in the same camo gear. He remained silent and still as a third man appeared.
    This one had black hair pulled to his nape in a ponytail. He also seemed to be in charge as he was the only one who spoke. "Are you all right?"
    She nodded.
    "Is anyone hurt?"
    She shook her head.
    He pressed his lips together as if satisfied, then asked, "Where's Tripp?"
    "In the storeroom," she whispered, her