4

Ike loped forward, bringing his tall, skinny frame too close. Some color had returned since he’d first gone pale, and his satisfied smirk gave Skylar goose bumps as he withdrew a zip tie from his pocket. He waved it at her face. “This ought to help keep you in line.”

He bound her wrists together. The thin, black plastic cut into her skin, instantly bruising.

She held up her hands. “There are three of you, one of me. I’m hardly a threat.”

The driver took a step closer. “It is a necessary precaution.” He clasped thick fingers together. “Seems we have met under the most unfortunate of circumstances. Allow me to introduce myself; Aston Barnes, private financial advisor. And you are?”

Skylar swallowed. He obviously didn’t know who he’d kidnapped. But was that a good thing, or bad? She didn’t want to reveal her name, but they had access to her driver’s license. They would find out one way or another. “Skylar Hart.”

“And Hayworth’s your uncle?” A shadow passed beneath Aston’s irises.

She nodded, anxiety knotting her stomach.

“You don’t share the same last name.”

“Uncle Winston’s my mother’s brother. Hayworth was her maiden name. Why does it matter?”

“Oh, I assure you. It matters.” Aston turned on Ike. His mask of civility melted, leaving a hard-edged demeanor as he drew himself to his full height. Although not as tall as the other two men, he intimidated with soulless, black eyes and a low, gravelly voice. “Seems my colleague can’t tell one woman from the next.”

“That’s not fair.” Ike ran knuckles through his scrappy blond hair. “It was dark. Besides, look at her. She is a pretty strawberry blonde with green eyes. Just like Hayworth’s daughter.”

Aston turned his gaze on her, eyes narrowing into slits. “The family resemblance is remarkable.”

Skylar’s stomach dropped. As Winston’s only child, Willow was heiress to his vast fortune and, therefore, a target. They must’ve assumed they’d come across Willow leaving the office. She had to escape. She had to warn Willow.

She twisted against Cowboy’s hold.

Cowboy tightened his grip. “Settle down.”

Not likely.

She glared at him, but it did no good. He stood still, rock-solid and emotionless. She might as well be attached to a brick wall. “Let me go.”

He ignored her demand.

Aston paced the area, agitation evident in his quick, jerky movements. Then, he stopped and pivoted toward Skylar. “I remember now. I’ve seen you before.” He waved an index finger. “You work for Hayworth, too. You and Willow are close, aren’t you?”

Shivers raced along her spine. Skylar considered Willow not only a cousin and co-worker, but also a genuine friend. Willow had been kind to her, never accusatory or judgmental. “I won’t help you find her.”

“As if I need you.” Aston scoffed and continued his back-and-forth trajectory across the stained cement floor. “You are of no consequence.”

Skylar felt sick to her stomach. She would reassure these men her uncle would pay a ransom for her, too, but she’d never suggest such a thing. Uncle Winston had already gone above and beyond for her. She couldn’t and wouldn’t expect anything more from him. “Let me walk away. You can disappear before anyone knows what happened.”

Aston waved away her suggestion. He smoothed hands over his wide, clean-shaven jaw and stopped, facing Cowboy. “We need to dispose of her tonight.”

Blood drained from Skylar’s head to her toes. Her legs wobbled, and if not for Cowboy’s steady hand she would’ve lost her balance. His fingers flexed on her bicep, and a muscle in his jaw twitched. His subtle reactions gave her pause. In the van, he’d told her everything would be all right. Why had he bothered to reassure her? Then, he had set her off his shoulder when she’d complained. Why now, did Aston’s remark invoke a response?

Ike swiped a hand under his elongated nose. “I know where we could hide her body.”

The room spun and Skylar felt faint. “No. You don’t have to do this. You have other choices.” If only she’d known five years ago that she had options, she would probably still be living in North Carolina, and she wouldn’t be standing here fighting for her life.

“I’ll take care of her,” Cowboy offered in a monotone voice, as if killing was a daily routine.

Aston shook his head. “I’ll do it.”

“You pay me to handle situations, remember?” Cowboy drew Skylar closer. “Besides, you should get out of here in case you need an alibi.”

Aston hesitated, as if considering all possibilities. Finally, he nodded. “Right. No need to take unnecessary risks. Give me time to drive home first.” Aston withdrew a wedding band from his pocket and slipped it on. “I’ll let my wife know I’m on my way.”

Skylar sucked in a breath. She knew nothing about these men, where they came from or what they did with their lives, but it was easy to label them as career criminals with no civilized relationships. Did they pretend they were upstanding citizens during the day, only to carry out nefarious acts at night? Did Aston’s wife even know the true man she’d married? Or, was she involved as well?

“You don’t have to do this. Think about your kids.” Skylar took a shot in the dark.

“My little girl adores me.” Aston smirked, not the least bit rattled.

So, the man did have a family. Unfortunately in her case, that meant he had more to lose if caught.

Aston stepped toward the van. He tossed Skylar a dismissive glance as if her life meant nothing and then looked at Cowboy. “Leave no evidence behind.”

Cowboy nodded but remained silent.

Fresh fear washed over Skylar. She couldn’t draw in enough oxygen. She couldn’t breathe.

Cowboy smoothed his thumb over her arm as if sending a silent message. But what did he want to convey? That he’d make her death quick and painless?

Ike climbed into the passenger seat, tossed out her purse. It landed on the cement floor. “Burn it.”

Skylar pretended indifference but eyed the bag. If she could reach the pepper spray inside…

At least Cowboy didn’t move toward her purse; he didn’t move at all as Aston took the driver’s seat, cranked the ignition, and then pressed the garage door remote.

The door whirred upward. Aston pulled the van through, red taillights glowing through the darkness as he drove away.

Cowboy released a breath and faced her. “Now that I have you alone—”

Skylar dropped to the floor, ripping from his grasp. She landed, rolled onto her knees and grabbed her purse. Fumbling with bound hands, she popped open the back flap, withdrew the pepper spray canister and aimed.

“Don’t.” He held up hands. “I am not going to hurt you.”

Yeah. Right.

She pressed the trigger.

Cowboy turned, shielding his face with an arm. The streaming liquid splattered in all directions. He coughed and sputtered. “Enough.”

She didn’t agree; she could empty the entire contents and it still wouldn’t be enough, but it would take too long—the garage door had started to close. Dragging her purse along, Skylar scrambled toward the outdoors.

“Wait.” Cowboy doubled over, continuing his coughing spree. He braced hands on his knees, his eyes swollen and red. “I…can…h-help you.”

Skylar stumbled. She could not have heard this guy right. He’d volunteered to make her vanish. She’d sprayed his eyes with liquid fire, and now he claimed he wanted to help her? Did he think she was stupid?

The gears lowered the garage door toward the ground. Skylar crouched and rolled through the opening. Gravel dug into her palms and knees, the sharp edges piercing her skin.

The door snapped shut behind her. Darkness impeded her vision and with only the moonlight to guide her, she climbed to her feet, hugged her purse, and ran. In her haste, she dropped the remaining pepper spray but didn’t dare take the time to retrieve it. Cowboy wouldn’t be far behind. She had to find refuge, fast.

Rural acreage encased the building, seeming to stretch for miles. Rolling hills, forests, and mountains prevailed in all directions. The gravel road cut a path through the trees, and she rushed to follow the winding passageway. But if she took the easiest route, she’d be too exposed.

Skylar abandoned the road and cut left toward a thick expanse of trees. The pine-scented air promised freedom, which gave her hope; but even if she managed to find her way to civilization, what kind of future lay in wait?