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I hang up, frustrated but also comforted that Z’s working on the search and brothers are on their way down.
Jigsaw cracks his knuckles. “Please tell me he’s got a name or a lead. Anything to go on?”
“Not yet. Wrath, Murphy, Steer, Hustler, Remy, and Griff will be here in a few hours, though.”
He lets out a somber laugh. “Good. I hope Pants gets a chance to show off his hog farm while they’re around.”
I hadn’t even thought that far ahead.
No, my thoughts revolve around the letters Shelby received. The ominous rabbit-in-a-cage threat. Where the fuck are they? He can’t have taken her far. Traveling is too risky. What if she suffocates in her trunk? Did he tie her up on top of drugging her? She’s going to be so scared when she wakes up alone with this monster.
The more fear consumes me, the quieter and stiller I become. Jiggy’s the exact opposite. He’s vibrating menace—eager to punish someone in the most brutal way.
Right now, I need to rescue my girl.
I’ll shift into punishment mode later.
Chapter Four
Shelby
A man, singing or humming.
Mouth so dry. Mine.
Head hurts.
Limbs ache.
Drifting for a while...
Again, the singing. Bad singing. Off-key. Unpleasant.
Sleeping sounds better.
I slip under again.
Bright lights flare and I moan in pain.
The quality of the singing doesn’t improve, but the words become clearer.
Little rabbit. Little rabbit. I finally caught my little rabbit.
It all comes back in a painful burst of images firing through my sloggy brain.
Mr. Creepy Letters.
He stuffed me in my own trunk!
Not wanting to alert him that I’m awake, I shift my body a millimeter at a time, trying to figure out if I’m still in my trunk or not. Pain sizzles through my skull, and I vaguely remember banging my head at some point. My arms drag, like I’m swimming through mud.
He drugged me.
Ice-cold fear slides through my stomach. A tear slips down my cheek, lands in my hair.
Rooster will find me. I know he will. He’ll tear apart the whole state of Virginia if he has to.
Oh, shit! What if we’re not in Virginia anymore?
How long have I been out?
Panic overwhelms me as I consider all the awful options. I could be in another state or even another country. There’s no way to know. How will anyone be able to look for me?
Quiet.
I focus on inhaling a long, deep breath and try to use my senses to figure out my surroundings.
We’re not moving. There are no tires bumping over the highway, and no gentle rocking of a boat or thrum of an airplane. That’s a good sign.
A crackling sound.
I sniff the air but can’t smell anything. Nothing at all.
Again, I attempt to move my fingers, brushing them along the surface I’m curled up on. It’s smooth. Fabric lining—my trunk. I think. It should smell like lavender. But I’ve been in here so long, maybe I’ve gone nose-blind.
The singing moves closer and I still my body. Better to delay any interaction with my kidnapper for as long as I can stand it. Maybe Rooster will find me before anything bad happens.
Well, before anything worse happens.
There’s a creaking above me. Cool air floats around my body—both a relief and a new source of terror.
“Little rabbit,” someone whispers in a singsong voice.
I work hard not to cringe or signal that I’m awake. I’m in deeper waters than I can swim here, which isn’t saying much, since I can’t swim at all. What’s the right course of action? Play possum? Try to reason with him to let me go? Befriend him until I can make a run for it?
Something whispers over my cheek. My nose twitches. That would be a normal reaction, even if I was asleep, right?
“Time to wake, my little sleeping beauty, before you end up with more aches and pains.”
Now he’s worried about my aches and pains.
Clearly, he’s not fooled by my sleepy act. I groan and press my cheek to the bottom of the trunk—like a little kid resistant to getting out of bed for school. Dryness forces my mouth to remain glued shut. My cracked lips sting as I peel my tongue from the roof of my mouth.
Another pathetic groan bubbles out of me. Not even a fake one this time.
There’s a sweep of light, and I cringe. After the deep blackness, even the dimly lit room hurts. I blink and turn my head. A man starts to take shape above me.
With the light at his back, he’s not much more than a vaguely human-shaped shadow looming into my space. That’s fine. My brain can’t handle detailing the features of my captor yet.
I curl my toes, feeling the familiar confines of my cowgirl boots.
I am so kicking this asshole the first chance I get.
“Momma?” I whisper, trying to sound as pathetic and confused as possible.
“Sweet little rabbit.” Something brushes my cheek again. His fingers. Eww. “When I’m sure you’ll behave, you can call your mother. I know how close you two are.”
