A leopard could track his truck. He knew because he was a shifter and he could track almost anything, including vehicles. He should have guessed. He slammed the flat of his palm against the steering wheel. Rafe Cordeau had to be a shifter.

Eli glanced over at Catarina, his gaze narrowing. Focused. He didn’t have reactions to women like he’d had to her. His leopard didn’t tolerate a woman for more than a night or two, but Catarina had been different. When he’d been with her, his leopard had been content. A time or two it had even risen close to the surface as if wanting to be near her. The fact that his leopard recognized her meant Cat’s leopard had to be close to emerging.

What did Rafe Cordeau want with her? He already knew, he’d figured it out, but he wanted confirmation. “He took you when you were eleven years old. Had you had your first period?”

She shot him a single look. That blank stare. He wanted to shake her.

“Damn it, answer me. Do you think I’m asking for my health?” He spat the question at her, allowing his anger to fill the cab. She couldn’t know that his anger was at himself, at the damage he’d done to her, and at Rafe, for what he’d done to her. She was an innocent caught between two powerful men who played for keeps. He had a very bad feeling she would continue to be caught between them.

“I’m not going to ask you again. Answer me now.”

She didn’t look scared. She looked . . . broken, and he felt like a damn fucking bully, kicking the little kid that was down right there in the play yard.

“Yes. I had my first period at eleven. But Rafe couldn’t have known that. My mother was a junkie and she took me to him and offered me to him.”

He shook his head. “Think back. It didn’t happen that way. He had to have come to your house when you were younger. He had to have looked you over. Decided on you. He was the one who first made the approach. There’s a reason he wants you.”