Cade moved his hand off her mouth, but before she could let out so much as a squeak, Mr. Big slapped the tape on. He pressed down hard, gloved fingers biting into her cheeks, and helpless tears sprang to her eyes.

“Aw, she’s crying,” he said mockingly, a hint of southern drawl in his voice. “Should’ve given ’em up, bitch.”

“Save it,” Cade said shortly. “Get her hands. You two, grab a foot. And watch it, she’s feisty.”

Olivia bucked hard as all three men moved in. Big took her hands in one of his, planting the other in the center of her chest to hold her down as Cade levered himself off her. She struggled against his hold, muffled noises coming from behind her makeshift gag as she tried to break free.

“She thinks she’s got a chance to get away,” Cockney said with a low chuckle, and firm fingers closed around her right ankle. “It’s cute.”

The third man spoke for the first time, his accent pure Texas. “Don’t underestimate her.”

“Nah, she won’t give us no trouble,” Cockney said, and his fingers loosened on her ankle just enough. Olivia kicked out, and her foot hit something solid.

“Motherfucker,” Cockney wheezed out in a very un-Cockney voice, and there was a hard thump.

“Jesus Christ.” Cade stood at the side of the bed, hitching a pair of sweatpants over his hips. He regarded the man on the floor with amusement. “I told you to be careful.”

“She tagged him in the balls,” Tex said, choking on a laugh. He managed to grab her loose foot, pinning it to the bed with its mate. She jerked her legs, trying to kick out again, but he held fast. “Heel strike. Nice shot.”

Big let out a low chuckle. He was bent over her slightly, one knee planted on the bed as he held her down. He was close enough she that could see the details of the mask, made of molded plastic or rubber, with eye holes and a small open space between the skeletal teeth. Both areas were covered with some kind of mesh or film to let in air and light while keeping the wearer hidden from view.

He cocked his head, twisting around so she was staring into the void where his eyes should be. “You got something to say, Princess?”

“Mmfph,” she said from behind the gag, her fuck you smothered by the duct tape, and snapped her head up, aiming for his nose.

He reared back just in time, so all she got for her troubles was a sore neck. “Oh yeah, she’s a live wire,” he drawled, the words dripping with a sort of sinister glee that had fear rising like bile in her throat.

“Let’s get her downstairs. I’ve got everything set up.” Cade spared her a glance. “Better wrap her hands and feet so she doesn’t kill one of you.”