Page 54 of Hideaway Reunion

Jess made it look as if they’d stopped because she was out of breath, drawing him to the side of the dancers. “Text her.”

He grabbed his phone and sent the message. Waiting for a reply was excruciating. Jess was guiding him back toward Nash and the others. Still nothing.

Finally, a message came through: Some bodyguard. She was easy picking.

His heart stopped and his blood ran cold. Calmly as possible, he showed Jess the message. She snatched his phone and demanded the terms.

The documents for the woman. One hour. Wait for my call.

“Not waiting,” Brayden growled. Roni would fight. She wouldn’t make it easy. She had a deep understanding of anatomy. She was strong. Unless she’d been drugged or wounded. Restrained. His vision hazed and he had to rein in his temper before he lost her forever.

He turned to Bobby and Cav. “Tell me everything you know about Vanbeck’s enforcer.”

“He’s got Veronica?” Bobby’s expression went stormy. “What do you need?”

“We think so,” Jess interjected calmly. “Do you know anything about him? Where he lives or what he drives?”

“I’d say he lives out of the truck,” Cav said. “Old, rough paint job. Shell over the bed.”

While Jess asked reasonable questions, Brayden’s mind filled with unreasonably violent action plans. He stormed off in the direction of that original observation nest, using the flashlight on his phone to scan the ground for any clue.

He’d promised her he’d be there. Always. And now she was missing. For a second, he swayed, overcome with a worst-case scenario. “Not happening,” he whispered to himself. “Hang on, sweetheart. I’m on the way.”

“Hey, man.” Trent was suddenly in step with him. “Backup’s better than going alone.”

“Sure,” Brayden grunted. He didn’t care if the agency sent an army to flank him. He was getting Roni back. Right now.

CHAPTER 18

Roni was cold and sore. She blinked her eyes open. Or thought she did. Everything was dark and blurry. Not just dark, there was something covering her face. When she breathed the fabric moved with her inhale and exhale, but it was scratchy. Uncomfortable.

When she tried to sit up, she discovered her hands were pinned behind her back. Zip ties on her wrists. She shivered and metal scraped against metal, scraped against her bare legs. Her shoes were gone and her dress was hiked up above her knees. The surface beneath her was lumpy and unyielding. Chain and tools, she guessed as she surreptitiously explored.

Her movement hadn’t caught any attention so far. She held her breath to listen for other clues. Wherever she’d been taken, she was stationary, and unless her kidnapper didn’t need to breathe, he wasn’t nearby.

She let her head fall back as the attack flooded her mind. She’d been mingling, eagerly waiting for Brayden to come down and dance with her. They’d goofed off occasionally, but tonight would be their first dance as a real couple.

Everyone seemed happy with the event as the dance instructors started their demonstration. The crowd continued to grow and she’d been marveling at all of it. Brayden had been right. The Hargrave sisters made hospitality look easy.

When a text came through from Brayden asking her to meet him on the deck, she’d practically flown to him.

Except it hadn’t been Brayden.

She’d been rushing by the garden shed when she was caught. A heavy, gloved hand clamped tightly over her mouth, cutting off her reflexive scream. A hard, muscular arm banding around her middle, yanking her backward and dragging her straight into the blackened shadows of the trees.

She’d put up a struggle until an ugly voice had hissed at her ear. “Shut up if you want to keep breathing.”

Breathing, yes please. Captive, no. She’d refused to go easily with this brute.

Riding a wave of panic-induced adrenaline, Roni fought back. She stomped her heel down hard on her attacker’s foot, elbowing backward with all her strength, catching him flush in the ribs. He fell back, cursing her, and she lurched out of his grasp.

Only to get caught again and slammed hard against a tree. The impact knocked the wind from her lungs, making her head spin. Before she could regain her balance, the attacker pulled her hands behind her back, the sharp zip of a plastic cable tie tightening painfully around her wrists.

That was the last detail she remembered. She hadn’t even gotten a good look at him. How long had she been out? Where had he dumped her?

None of that mattered. She wasn’t done fighting.

Wiggling her hips, she tried to determine if she had her cell phone, but her pockets felt empty. Odds were low he would leave the device with her. If she could get this hood off her face, maybe she could improvise a weapon to use when he came back.