‘You keep giving me water; it has to come out some time.’ ‘Wait until Rourke gets back.’ ‘Why? Can’t a big tough guy like you handle things on his own?’ Rourke was the man who’d been lewd towards her when Huffman had been in the room. After Huffman had left, Rourke had gone further. He had delighted in ripping off her blouse and bra and it was all that Kate could do to hold on to her jeans. Rourke had enjoyed her humiliation more than any titillation he’d gained from seeing her breasts exposed. She was glad he was out of the room. He’d gone off on an errand, leaving Nixon alone with her. Nixon, for all he was a hired gun, didn’t appear to be as cruel as Rourke, and it was he who had given her back her clothes after Rourke had attacked her. He was a big guy, with short sandy hair. His cheeks bore freckles and he had watery blue eyes that seemed large behind round spectacles. He had a wedding ring on his finger, which struck Kate as unusual among these kinds of men.
