Ignacio now had men who took care of things for him. But those men weren’t here now and there was simply no way he was going to let that little puta get away from him. She wasn’t in the room now and he could finally think. Finally. Every time she touched him, his ability to think just shut down, but she’d been gone for a little while and his mind was his own once more. His mind, his body . . . his rage. How long, he wondered? How long had she been controlling him? His wrists were slick with blood, but the cable tie wasn’t coming loose. It wasn’t going to come loose, either. He had to figure out a way to get free. Of course, she had decided to do all of this in her room. Naturally, she had no weapons in here. A bunch of silly baubles and useless female sundries on the dresser but nothing he could use, even if he could get manage to get the chair he was tied to over there.
What do You think about The Protected (Fbi Psychics)?
