Her father had taught her to judge people as individuals--by their actions rather than their race or looks.And she found Jose to be a warm individual....He wouldn't take advantage of her, she felt sure. Holding his hand was a comforting thing. She could feel strength passing from him to her. And the way he kissed the back of her hand so tenderly was very reassuring. She wondered how such a gentle giant could be mixed up with kidnapers. Pico was obviously the boss of the gang, with mean Faustina. She had changed clothes into a fluffy, short purple sweater and streaked, bleached, painted-on jeans. I did appreciate that small tight ass. But she was too young. I had no interest in jail.My ‘guest’ took in the living room, then moved to the kitchen. She glanced longingly at the hall to the bedrooms but didn’t go further. The basement door received a glance, so too did the garage door. I followed the chocolate foot-long ponytail, as it took in the living area of my house. My eyes were well. More

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