Broken Honor by Tonya Burrows Page A

going to suck. I can’t do anything about that.”
    Nodding, she covered one of his hands with her own. “I know.” Then she let go of him and glared daggers at the thugs before yanking her sweatshirt off over her head and throwing it to the floor.
    Even before they finished undressing, Alexei hit them with a powerful spray of icy water, nearly knocking them both off their feet. It was like needles piercing Quinn’s flesh, stealing away his body heat almost before he could produce it, and it transported him back to his days in Coronado when his need to become a SEAL had been the only thing keeping him going during Hell Week. His BUD/S instructors had loved pushing him to the brink of hypothermia and even one step over, and he’d never forget how cold the Pacific was at oh-dark-thirty when your body was beyond exhausted and you’d taken only the briefest of naps in the last twenty-four hours.
    This water was colder.
    He gritted his teeth to keep them from chattering and caged Mara between his body and the wall, shielding her from the worst of it. He couldn’t do anything to help the other women and winced with each new scream as the water sprayed back and forth over the line of them.
    Mara huddled against his chest. Her skin was warmer compared to the ice of his, but not by much. She was amazing, never making a sound, enduring the torture silently each time the water rained over them. Trembles raced just under the surface of her skin, and he rubbed her back, trying to generate more heat.
    Finally, the damn hose was shut off, leaving the room silent except for dripping water and chattering teeth. Alexei and Pyotr laughed as they led the other women away, one by one, until only he and Mara were left.
    “Oh, God,” Mara whispered against his chest. “They’re going to separate us. Travis, please don’t let them take me away. I’m scared.”
    He looped his cuffed hands over her shoulders and squeezed her tight. “Shh. I’ve got you. You’re not going anywhere.”
    “They’re going to—” Her voice caught on a sob. “They’re going to sell the baby.”
    Yeah, that would be their plan. He hugged her closer and eyed the two thugs standing guard by the door. They hadn’t come back into the room since removing the last of the women. Seemed to be waiting for something. Or, possibly, someone.
    The door opened moments later to admit a man in a white coat. A doctor. They wanted confirmation she was pregnant.
    “I need to examine the woman,” the doctor said with a deadness in his voice that chilled Quinn more than the cold water had.
    Christ, he hated doctors.
    “I don’t think so.” He removed his arms from her shoulders and stepped in front of her, again using his own body as a barricade. She pressed her face into the middle of his back. Hot tears trickled down his spine to mingle with the water still clinging to his skin.
    He had to get her out of here.
    He lunged for Pyotr first because out of the three of them, that guy was the most dangerous. He had soulless eyes that spoke of the depths of his brutality and depravity. But for all of that, Pyotr wasn’t trained, and the surprise attack threw him off guard. Quinn had him disabled and on the ground, gasping for breath, in half a heartbeat. He sneaked his hands into Pyotr’s coat pocket, found his cell phone, and drew it out as he spun on Alexei, knocking a knife out of the guy’s hand with a roundhouse kick.
    “Travis!”
    Pain stabbed into his shoulder, but with his hands cuffed, he couldn’t reach around to dislodge what he thought was a knife. Fuck. He’d miscalculated, had focused too much on the thugs and hadn’t thought of the doctor as a real threat.
    The room fuzzed and wobbled around him. Not a knife, then. Drugs of some kind. He dropped to one knee, gagging as bile threatened to come up. A boot connected with his gut, bending him double.
    “Stop it!” Mara shouted. “Leave him alone!”
    There was a strangled cry of pain, and Quinn glanced