Page 173 of Revere: A Legacy Novel

“Good. You know my name.” Catherine sneered. “As long as you know who I am and where I come from, I don’t give a fuck who you are.”

The man smiled. “Shame.”

His shoe hit under her jaw, and sent her sprawling to the floor as blood bloomed in her mouth. Catherine tried to spit it out, but only choked when his shoe stepped down on her throat with enough force to take all her air away and hurt like a bitch.

She clawed at his leg and shoe, desperately trying to take in a breath.

He simply laughed above her.

“Scratch my shoes, pretty girl, and I’ll have you lick them clean before you buff them out.”

“Go to hell,” Catherine hissed.

She had no air left. The man clicked his tongue chidingly, and shook his head. His shoe pressed harder. Catherine saw stars.

Soon, she didn’t see anything at all.

“Wake her up, or carry her to the boat. I do not care which you chose, Rami.”

“Girl.”

Catherine heard the voices echoing in the back of her ringing skull, and then felt a tap to her cheek. She blinked and tried to focus, but it wasn’t easy. The second tap to her cheek came harder than the first.

“Up now,” the man said.

Catherine found it was the same man who had dragged her into the plane. “Rami, that’s your name?”

Her throat ached with every word, and her voice was hoarse. She supposed that was to be expected when you were choked unconscious again and again. It seemed her captor took great enjoyment out of trying to get her to converse, only to choke her back into a black oblivion when she did not respond, or worse, when she acted out against him.

He lifted a single brow. “Name not important, girl. Up now.”

Rami yanked her up from the seat of the plane by the rope keeping her wrists bound. Catherine wet her lips, and tasted dried blood on the corner of her mouth. She was sore in more places than one, likely from being dragged and tossed around, not to mention kicked and choked.

“We go from plane to boat, girl,” Rami said. “You get seasick over side, not on deck.”

Catherine glowered at the bright sunlight as she was pulled down the stairs from the private jet. Ahead of them, she could see the eight other men who had kidnapped her, and the big man who continued to antagonize her on the plane.

The one they simply called their boss.

The hot, humid air soaked into Catherine’s lungs, as did the taste of salt from the ocean. The private airstrip seemed to be right beside the damn water. Two black and red speedboats waited at a dock, and like she was a dog on a leash, Catherine followed Rami when he pulled her along.

Her fight was not gone.

She simply needed a recharge.

“Rhys, sir, your drink,” a man on one of the speedboat said as the large man stepped onto the first speedboat.

Rhys.

Catherine filed that away for later.

The man who handed Rhys a drink did not look like the others who had taken her. He was thinner, older, and dressed in a simple black suit. Like a fucking butler or something.

But on a speedboat?

“Thank you, Curtis,” Rhys said.

Catherine was tugged past the first boat to the second. She was practically tossed from the deck onto the boat with little care, and her already sore wrists throbbed as she caught herself on a seat. Rami climbed in after her.