I listened to my heart beating as I regained clarity of the world around me.
Ba-dump.
Ba-dump.
Ba-dump, ba-dump, ba-dump, ba-dump, ba-dump.
I tried to push myself up, but I could feel pieces of glass biting into my skin. Blood trickled down my arm, my leg, my side. Every nerve screamed, but my body wouldn’t move.
I opened one eye, and the first thing I noticed was my wedding ring on my left hand. I looked at it intently, as it was my anchor to her, the only thing that could help me stay calm amid this chaos. I was fighting forher.
I could do this.
I wanted to yell for her. I wanted her to hear me. Hear my voice. I wantedher.
I pushed myself up, wobbling on shaky legs as I blinked at the world around me.
Two gas pumps.
A whispering fog curling low over the asphalt.
Glass at my feet.
And then?—
A hand seized my wrist.
I tried to twist free, but I was too slow.
I felt the needle in my neck before I could react. Fire spread under my skin. The parking lot spun, colors bleeding together. The masked men blurred into silhouettes. Through the static roaring in my ears, a voice slipped closed.
“Congratulations, Mr. McKinnon,” it murmured. “It’s initiation day.”
Darkness swallowed me, and I went down.
My head was fucking pounding,like a hangover and a concussion had joined forces behind my eyes.
Everything hurt—the back of my neck, my jaw, even my teeth.
I blinked slowly, as light flickered against the metal surfaces. The air smelled strongly of gasoline, rubber, and a sterile scent reminiscent of bleach and latex gloves.
My wrists were restrained with zip ties, the plastic cutting into my skin as I moved. My mouth was parched, coppery with blood. My temple was sticky.
I tried to sit up, only to realize I couldn’t. My ankles were zip-tied as well. I was on the floor of a moving cargo van, the lack of seats and rattling steel walls giving it away.
What. The. Fuck.
I dragged myself across the floor, clawing for the wall until my fingers found cold metal. Pain tore through me as I forced my body upright, a raw scream ripping from my throat. Shards of glass jutted from my hands, arms, and legs, blood sliding down in slow, sticky streaks.
I pressed my back to the wall, fighting to steady my breath.
This wasn’t random.
This was calculated retribution because of her.
Mackenzie.
Maybe she hadn’t really left me. Maybe they had taken her, too. The thought of it made my fists clench until the zip ties cut in deeper.
