Chapter One


NEW ORLEANS
Two weeks later

Dalton felt more at home in the bayou than anywhere else. Moss providing a drapery of darkness, the dank smell of stagnant water, the humidity and the feeling of being closed in all suited his nature. Well-hidden, a place where no one could find him. No one knew about this place, no one would connect him here, so he knew it was safe to bring Isabelle.

The cypress trees bent low in welcome as he paddled the boat through the thick mud of the swamp bottom, keeping watch over the woman who sat ramrod straight on the metal seat in front of him.

For the past two weeks Isabelle had said very little. Like a robot, she'd followed orders, eaten, showered, and slept when he'd told her, but stayed mostly silent. No conversation other than a few verbal affirmations to his questions regarding her comfort level.

He'd hoped to draw her out, to talk to her, to begin the process of healing her. But he'd gotten nothing. Instead, she'd gone further into her shell.

Shock? Maybe. She was probably confused as hell and completely disoriented. He'd circled them around Europe before chartering a plane back to the U.S. When they arrived in New York, he'd bought a car and driven to New Orleans, not using the direct route to do that, either. Instead, he'd gone east and then south. Good thing he had a stash of cash he could utilize to do everything he'd needed to do. No way could he have accessed Realm money to fund this venture.

The only good thing about Isabelle's silence over the past two weeks was the time it had given Dalton to think, to plan. He'd known then where he was going to take her, what he was going to do. Hopefully, it would wo...