“Goddammit!” Toth’s scream punched through August’s haze of rage. “Don’t fucking shoot!” he commanded the group.
The senator moaned as two guards bent to help him to his feet. “You’re a dead man,” Roy said, seething. Blood leaked from a corner of his mouth, and his cheek flamed red where August had struck him.
Rami had dragged August away from the senator moments before, stopping him from delivering any more blows to the old fuck.
“Listen, we don’t want any trouble. It’s a misunderstanding.” Toth’s conciliatory tone didn’t do much to settle the testosterone-charged atmosphere.
“The fuck it is,” August bit out.
Toth spun on him, glaring daggers. “You’re not helping.” He turned back to the senator and his guards. “Our associate believes you have something to do with the fact that the cartel shot one of our men in the head and took the woman he was protecting.”
Roy’s face turned solemn. “I told no one of our meeting.”
“Well, someone found out,” August snapped. “They had to know our defenses would be low.”
Again, the senator held out his hands. “I told you. I’ve got nothing to do with it. Why would I risk you leaking anything to the press? I agreed to this meeting and you can have Todd.”
August’s chest expanded on each inhale. The asshole was lying through his perfect fucking veneers. He might not be able to kill him now, but the sonofabitch would pay for endangering Gigi.
“Where is he?” Rami asked. He too sounded on the verge of snapping.
Roy pressed a white handkerchief to his lip and mopped up the trickle of blood. Gesturing to one of the guards, he waved toward the house. The man with the ponytail disappeared inside. Tension bounced from man to man, radiating like a giant ball around them.
No one spoke. No one moved.
The door opened and Todd walked out ahead of the guard. He wore jeans, a white dress shirt, and the same wire-rimmed glasses August had seen on him the last time they met.
Seeing Todd in the flesh made new rage surface. Rage that made August’s senses fizz and his vision blur.
Todd glanced sheepishly from August to Toth to Rami to Ghost, from whom he shot his gaze away quickly, as if afraid. Todd had every reason to be fearful of the dude, but August was the only one who’d relish breaking every bone in Todd’s body.
August opened and closed his fist at his side. His hand holding the gun itched to rise and pull the trigger.
Not here.
Soon, he’d make Todd sorry he’d ever met Gigi. But not right now. Not when August’s next move could cost someone their life or worse—delay him from getting back to Seattle and finding Gigi.
“I held up my end of the bargain. Give him to Alvarez if that’s what you want. Just forget I was ever involved.”
Rami moved forward and snagged Todd’s bicep, hauling him away from the safety of Roy’s house.
“Are we done here?” Roy demanded.
August gave a nod. “Yeah, we’re done.”
“Fine. And if you know what’s good for you, don’t you dare tell Alvarez I had him here.” The senator’s threat beat the air.
“Understood.” He understood all right, but he didn’t give a damn. He’d tell Alvarez whatever necessary to get Gigi home. Toth motioned for everyone to move toward the dock.
“Roy, don’t do this,” Todd wailed. “They’ll kill me.”
“Shut the fuck up.” Rami punched Todd in the kidney and Todd yelped, his knees folding. Rami jerked him back up and propelled him down the cobblestone path. “This will be a helluva lot harder if you don’t keep your mouth shut.”
August glanced over his shoulder to see Roy heading inside. The guards stood with crossed arms watching them leave. Once they got to the boat, August tucked his weapon in his waistband.
Rami shoved Todd in, and Toth, Ghost, and August jumped in after. The rope was quickly untied and the motor powered up. In seconds, they were speeding away from the dock.
August sat staring at the shitty excuse for a man who was Gigi’s ex. He could look at the guy a hundred times and never understand what Gigi had seen months ago.
There’d been a time when she’d chosen this rat over him, and he’d never figure out why. Regardless, it didn’t matter because Gigi was very much his woman now. If he could, he’d wipe every damn memory Todd had of her. Erase every memory of touching her, of kissing her, of . . .
The artery in August’s neck ticked. Jesus, he was bent out of shape.
Todd shifted his nervous, watchful gaze to August. “They’ll kill me, you know that, right?” he called over the drone of the boat.
August laughed. He couldn’t stop it. A full-blown fucking belly laugh that teetered on the edge of hysterical. The dumb shit hadn’t just tried to make August feel sorry for him, had he?
Leaning forward, August glowered. “The only reason I hope they don’t kill you is because I want them to make you suffer in every way imaginable first. Now, you’re going to tell me everything you know about Val Alvarez and where the fuck he could be hiding Gigi.”
Todd’s face went blank. “They—They have her?”
“Don’t act like you don’t know. Somehow, the cartel figured out about our meeting today. I’m going to bet you alerted Alvarez as soon as the senator told you we were coming for you.” Either Todd or Radcliffe had told Alvarez. Putting the heat on Todd might elicit a confession.
Todd shook his head. “I—”
“Did you know Roy was giving you up? Did he tell you before we arrived?”
Todd swiped his hand down his sweat-streaked face. “I—Yes. I knew. He told me if I tried to run or escape, they’d kill me. Said you knew about their work with Alvarez and he couldn’t hide me anymore.”
“And then he called Alvarez.”
Again, Todd looked panic-stricken. “I don’t know. I swear. They had me locked in my room.”
Satisfied the guy was telling the truth, August sat back. Once they got to land, they’d call Alvarez and give him what he wanted.
Todd’s head on a fucking stick if necessary.
* * *
Just great.
The one thing she’d been trying to avoid for months and here she was, at the mercy of the cartel. Needless to say, her future didn’t look bright.
Especially from her current location: the inside of a damn trunk.
Sweat dampened her scalp and brow as she struggled against her tied wrists. The rank stench of her own panic filled the confined space. Her lungs ached with every inhale of the stale, musty air. Her heart pumped tirelessly, erratic and frantic.
She wet her lips and tried counting down from ten while breathing slowly, but nothing short of getting out of the car and seeing August would help.
Focusing on stilling her trembling limbs, she tried again. If she didn’t calm down, she’d pass out.
Come on, just think. Ivy was in a way-worse situation. If she could survive that, you can get out of this.
Bringing her twin sister’s face into her mind’s eye, Gigi felt her pulse reduce to a non-life-threatening rate. By now, August or one of the guys would’ve tried to reach Taschen to check in. They’d know something was wrong. August might be hours away, but he’d send someone to the apartment to make sure everything was okay. They might already know she was missing.
All this could be over as fast as it’d started.
She just had to keep the faith and stay alive. Stay alive and pray that somehow Taschen had survived. She swallowed over the lump in her throat as the memory of being taken from the apartment replayed in her mind.
She’d kept her gaze down as she was ushered quickly through the lobby. Desperation had made her want to scream, to make eye contact with anyone and give a sign that she needed help—but she hadn’t dared. The man who’d walked at her side and slightly behind her had his gun concealed, but the recollection of those silent bullets and the harm they’d caused was seared in her brain.
And if the men kidnapping her had shot Taschen without blinking, they’d certainly shoot innocent people, too. She couldn’t allow it.
Worry churned in her stomach and fresh tears burned her eyes. Taschen was likely dead because of her. Oh, god, would August blame her? Would the others?
Tears coursed down her cheeks. As if it freaking mattered. She’d never see August again. There was no way out of this. They were probably taking her to the woods to chuck her body off a cliff. She’d be lucky if her remains were ever found.
It might not matter if August blamed her for Taschen’s death, but it sure as hell mattered that she’d never see him again. That she’d never get to thank him for doing everything he could to protect her, that she’d never get to bury herself in his arms or tell him she—
Her heart stopped and started.
Loved him. God, did she ever love him.
She’d fallen in love with him two years ago, and no amount of time, distance, or anger had stifled that. No matter how hard she’d tried, she hadn’t been able to set aside her feelings for him. And if by some chance she got out of this, she’d let him know.
She sucked back a sob and wiped her cheek with her bound hands. The smooth duct tape rubbed her lips. The sensation jolted her from her misery, and she brought the rough, rubbery material to her lips again. Sinking her teeth into the adhesive, she chewed and pulled at the binding.
The men were brutes, but they sure as hell weren’t going to get points for smarts. They’d been in a hurry when they took her to the alleyway behind the building, shoved her in the trunk, and wrapped the duct tape around her wrists—leaving her hands in front of her. Not a wise move on their part. The plasticky taste of glue was heavy in her mouth but she didn’t care. She’d gnaw her freaking hand off if it gave her a shot at survival.
Snap
A small piece of tape ripped. Hope flared inside her with the force of a flashfire, making her almost choke on relief. If she could get her hands free, she might have a fighting chance. Not a large one, considering she didn’t have a weapon, but she had two feet and a heartbeat and would run both to the ground if it killed her.
Taking the flapping piece of tape between her teeth, she yanked on it and pulled her hands away from her.
Riiiiip
A hiccup of euphoria sounded from her throat. She sent out a thank-you prayer. Now all she had to do was scream, fight, and run. She kept the tape stuck to her wrists. Maybe if she pressed her hands together, at first glance it’d appear she was still bound. Shaking her hands to bring blood flow to her extremities, she tried to pay attention to how fast the vehicle was traveling.
Newer vehicles had an emergency latch inside. With any luck, she could open it and draw attention to herself if they were on the highway. But they’d already been driving a good thirty minutes—they could be in the middle of nowhere by now.
The car slowed and made a sharp turn, causing her to roll onto her hip. She grunted and braced her hands against the wall of the trunk so she didn’t hit her head. The vehicle slowed and made another turn, then another.
Either they were deep in the woods or they were in a residential area. Although the road seemed smooth and free of gravel. Where—
The vehicle lurched to a stop and all the saliva evaporated from her tongue. Tears of panic burned her eyes as she scrambled to put her wrists together.
Gigi’s breath rasped in and out of her nose in frantic pants. Her plan to run had just been shot to hell. Without knowing the lay of the land, she was screwed. For all she knew they were in a garage somewhere.
Voices spoke in Spanish and a peal of laughter followed.
Goosebumps broke out on her skin and her flesh turned icy cold. Slow footsteps grew louder. There was no way out of this. Not right now. All she could do was focus on not getting herself killed. The button on the trunk beeped and the metal creaked open.
She pressed her wrists to her thighs as light chased away the cloak of darkness. She blinked rapidly, but before her eyes adjusted, rough hands seized her by her elbows and yanked her out of the trunk. A yelp escaped her lips as she was tossed over a heavyset man’s shoulder.
Her hands were crunched uncomfortably between her abdomen and his back, but at least the loose tape was hidden.
Part of her wanted to fight and struggle. To kick free and make a run for it, but every instinct told her to wait.
She held her breath, biting back the scream that crackled at the back of her throat. Lifting her head, she took in her surroundings. The brute was carrying her out of a detached garage. They’d exited through a man door and now moved through a backyard. The other man followed closely.
Scrap metal and junk littered the tall, unkempt grass. Her assailant carried her over a chipped cement walkway and climbed the rickety steps of a wooden back porch that didn’t have a railing.
The violent taste of hysteria flooded her mouth. “No!” she screamed, bucking and stiffening herself as straight as a pencil to make him lose his grip.
He staggered at the top of the steps, nearly pitching over the side. He reached up and snagged a handful of her hair, snapping her head back and choking off her scream.
Her scalp howled as strands were ripped from their beds. He half carried, half dragged her into the small house, dropped her onto her feet, and slammed the door shut. Before she could take in the tiny kitchen, his fist slammed into her cheek. Gigi’s face whipped to the side and her body followed, connecting hard with the stained yellow linoleum floor.
Pain exploded across her skull and her face flamed.
“Got out of your fucking bindings, bitch.” Another brutal blow to her face. This one connected with her eye. Stars blotted out her vision. Her head lolled and she covered her face with her hands, waiting for another shot that would knock her out.
“Alec,” a voice growled. “Don’t rough up the merchandise.” Heavy footsteps shook the floor beneath her face. Firm hands pulled her to her feet, although not as ruthlessly.
She caught sight of the man’s tattooed face. His mouth was pressed in a grim line. A bandana was tied around his forehead. He was the man who’d tackled Taschen. His eyes held a note of . . . sympathy? She couldn’t be sure because he edged her ahead of him and down a hallway.
The brutish, heavyset man who’d hit her said something in Spanish that sounded derisive. Gigi quickly scanned the room. The stench of rotting food and urine saturated the walls. Garbage covered the floor and holes chewed through the drywall and doors. If she was a betting gal, her money was on the guy named Alec who’d caused the damage.
“Move,” Bandana Guy hissed. Okay, maybe he wasn’t so friendly.
They reached the end of the hall and he shoved open a door. A single mattress with a tattered blanket was pushed against the wall. Dirty clothes covered the floor along with more garbage.
A dog barked from behind the closed bedroom door across the hallway then scratched at the wood.
“Micha, no!” he hollered. He refocused on Gigi, his expression hard but also calculating. “Sit,” he commanded. Dried blood coated the skin between his nose and top lip. A bruise turning an ugly hue of purple swelled beneath his eye.
She curled her lip at the bed. There was no way in hell she was sitting on that thing. She lowered herself to the floor against the wall on the one bare spot near the mattress. Drawing her knees close to her chest, she waited for him to say or do something.
She heard Alec speaking in the kitchen. There was no response, indicating he was on the phone. Bandana Guy opened and closed his fists at his sides. “Don’t piss him off and he’ll ignore you.”
She swallowed. His advice lowered her guard a little. “He shot my friend.”
The man shrugged. “I don’t give a shit about your friend. We have orders to follow.”
“Orders to kill me.”
His throat moved as if in involuntary resistance to the idea. “Don’t move.” He left the room and she blinked.
Was he coming back? The dog’s scratches intensified and for a second, she feared it’d break through the cheap wood and come charging at her. Maybe she should run. At least attempt to escape. The only thing that kept her in place was knowing she’d run right into Alec if she did.
Bandana Guy reappeared with duct tape. He knelt next to her, and the stench of marijuana flooded the air. “Hands behind your back.”
Keeping her gaze locked on his face, she held her wrists out in front of her. “Please,” she whispered.
His dark eyes sparked with something that looked like compassion before evil chased it away. “Behind your back,” he spat.
She swallowed, turned, and joined her wrists at her spine. The duct tape screeched as he stretched the material over her skin. But he wound the tape only once. Huh. He’s giving me a shot. He gave her a hard nudge and she turned back around.
“If you shut up and listen maybe you’ll live.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Whatever you do, don’t say anything to him. If he wants to rough you up, I can’t help.” He stood.
Gigi nodded, taking whatever kindness she could get. This man wasn’t a good guy, but he probably wouldn’t be her executioner either.
“I’m going to let the dog out. She’s nice but will want to smell you. Don’t startle or you’ll freak her out.”
Gigi’s eyes bugged out. “No, I—”
But he was already in the hallway, pushing open the second door. A pit bull trotted out. Spotting Gigi, it raced forward. Gigi stifled a squeak as the dog ran up and snuffled around her, getting close to her face and ears.
Then Bandana Guy whistled and the dog followed him out of the room. The door clicked shut and a lock sounded.
Gigi leapt to her feet. Whether Bandana Guy was a killer or not, she had to get the hell out of here.