Free His to Take by Shayla Black

speaking, no. But I figured better kidnapped than tortured and murdered.
     The lesser of two evils.” He shrugged. “Not a perfect choice, but I didn’t have many
     other options in the few hours I had before this sick bastard came for you.”
    And she supposed that pointing out once more that he could have talked to her first
     would again fall on deaf ears. Besides . . . would she really have listened? She’d
     probably have written him off as a psycho.
    “That government agency you work for condone kidnapping, Joaquin?” She couldn’t resist
     taunting him a little.
    He did a double take, then frowned. “So Thorpe told you my name? Fine.”
    After jerking something from his pocket, he flipped open a little leather case to
     reveal a badge of sorts and an ID that stated his name was Joaquin Muñoz and he worked
     for the NSA. Bailey stared. Even though he could have forged it, the document looked
     pretty official. Maybe it shouldn’t have, but seeing his credentials made her believe
     that he probably wasn’t a completely crazed weirdo—just mostly.
    She glanced again at him. Manly. A little exotic. Interesting. And there she went
     into stupid-ass territory again.
    “You get enough to eat?” He gestured toward her half-empty tray.
    Bailey nodded, glad to have a reason to look anywhere but at him. “I don’t know where
     Thorpe got the food, but it was good.”
    “He told me he was the master of takeout.” Joaquin grinned.
    She smiled in return, then caught herself. Wiping the expression off her face, she
     crossed her arms over her chest. “I need to call Blane and tell him I won’t be home
     tonight. He’ll be worried.”
    “Thorpe told me you two talked about this. I agree with him. You disappearing will
     throw this killer off guard. Maybe he’ll slip up. Maybe he’ll act out. I need to find
     some way to figure out who’s responsible and be able to prove it. Blane will be safer
     if he knows nothing.”
    Before she could respond, the phone in his pocket buzzed. He pulled it free and read.
     For a moment, Bailey considered grabbing it from his hand and calling 911, but he’d
     take it from her before she could get the call out. He’d even dismantled the lock
     on the bathroom door—she’d checked—so she couldn’t hope to outrun him there and keep
     emergency dispatchers on the phone long enough to trace the signal.
    Holding in a sigh, she decided to wait for a better opportunity. At least he didn’t
     seem menacing anymore. In fact, he almost looked . . . friendly. Because Thorpe had
     duped her into trusting them? Bailey didn’t want to be stupid, but what if someone
     really was after her? What if she truly was safer here?
    Suddenly, Joaquin cursed, a low, ugly growl. Then he stared at the ceiling as if grasping
     for patience. When he looked her way again, his expression had gone bleak.
    “What is it?” The words slipped out. She shouldn’t be concerned about him, but he
     looked genuinely upset. It simply wasn’t in her nature to stand back and watch people
     suffer.
    “Remember the missing girl in Oklahoma I told you about?” When she nodded, Joaquin
     shoved his phone under her face. “Here she is.”
    Bailey stole a quick glance, then looked away. The photo was every bit as stomach-turning
     as the last one he’d shown her—maybe more. The woman wasn’t a brunette this time,
     but a blonde. She’d bled more before she died. Her face looked permanently contorted
     in pain.
    Everything about the sight made Bailey’s stomach recoil and fear zip through her.
     Maybe she’d been too trusting? How did she really know Joaquin was telling the truth
     about the who, where, and when or this victim?
    “Is there a news item about this murder? Anything to read?”
    He sent her a crafty stare as if he saw right through her question, then gave her
     a decisive nod. “I’m sure there is. I’ll find it. Because then you’ll know that I
     was here with you and couldn’t