Out of any other men the hold the Cajun had on Tara might have been solicitous but the iron grip over her elbow just downright hurt. She yanked loose as she came through the door of the shanty. She honestly had no idea where she was besides way out in the bayou country. She could hear the bouncing cadence of Cajun-English.<br/><br/>"I ain't got me no use for no girlie girl, me. Feed her to the gator when we know where it is, no?" a man was saying, making no gesture to lower his voice.<br/><br/>Tara stood stock still as she looked around the room at a group of swampers, some with three day beards and some with ragged bandanas on their heads. She didn't recognize any of them and that let her know that none of them belonged to the Boss or the family. Tara suddenly realized that she was on her own.<br/><br/>"Tommy ain't gonna like dis, him."<br/><br/>"Hist. No names, moe -ron"<br/><br/>"Never mind," a commanding voice said, as a man wearing a mask over the top half of his face. entered the room. His smile was malevolent and fangs framed his beautiful front teeth.