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“This is a turnaround, hey, Mace?”
I looked up. A very happy Luke walked over to me, holding a baseball bat loosely in his right hand, swinging it around as though he were going out for a casual hit. I flexed my wrists against the ropes that tied me to the chair I was sitting in. I wasn’t going anywhere.
“You’re not a very smart man, are you?” he asked, leaning the bat against the wall.
He walked in front of me and crouched down. I studied his face. A black eye and some bruising was the only evidence of earlier. The blood, the sweat . . . it was all gone.
“You think I didn’t know you were following me? Did you think I was that stupid?” He laughed and then swung his fist at me.
I groaned as it connected with my chin, knocking the wind out of my chest.
“You know, the best part of all this is the fun I get to have with your pretty little girlfriend. I couldn’t believe my luck when you landed on my doorstep with her in tow. She’s a sexy piece of meat.”
“You touch her and I’ll kill you,” I spat, rocking violently in my chair.
“Yeah?” He laughed. “Pity you’ll already be dead. I just hope she’s as much fun as your sister was.” He picked up the bat and cracked his neck as his mouth broke into a grin. “You have no idea how much I’m going to enjoy this, Mace.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Leeta.
Where the hell is he?
I craned my neck and peered into the darkness, looking for anything that could be Mace. I glanced at my phone. Something had to be wrong. He’d been gone for more than forty minutes. It didn’t take that long to walk around a freaking building.
Come on. I tapped my phone on my leg as anxiety filled my stomach. Where the hell was he? Should I call the police? Go down there? No. Do not leave this car, Leet. Just stay here and wait. Wait for what?
Tap, tap.
Relief raced through me as I turned to face who I thought was Mace at my window—only it wasn’t. I froze, my eyes glued to the gun resting against the glass, aimed directly at me.
“Open the door, sweetie.”
Leaning forward, I unlocked the door and opened it. I wasn’t stupid enough to argue with a guy holding a gun. One hit and that glass would shatter. This would go so much better for me if I just did what they told me to.
“Get out of the car, nice and slow. Don’t try and be a smartass and I might not shoot you, okay?” he said.
I nodded, stepping out onto the footpath. My heart raced as I stood up. He grabbed hold of my arm and shoved me, sending me sprawling onto the concrete. I had no fucking idea who this guy was, but he seemed intent on hurting me and the sheer size of him scared the fuck out of me. I blinked back tears as I examined my grazed palms.
I stiffened. I felt the barrel of the gun in the middle of my back.
“Get up, or I’ll get you up myself.”
He laughed, using the gu
n to trail down my body. I shuddered, and struggled to my feet, refusing to let him see me cry. I couldn’t think about Mace. If I did, I’d break down. One foot in front of the other, I walked toward my target, the huge warehouse in front of me.
This is it. I’m going to die. So much for blocking out the negative thoughts. My head was a mess of what-ifs and worst-case scenarios.
What if Mace is dead?
You haven’t heard a gunshot, so stop thinking that way.
We neared the side door. The man grabbed me around my arm and yanked me inside. I breathed in, trying to calm myself. The warehouse had a distinct smell of grease and fuel.
As he walked me down the corridor, I tried to catch as many details as I could: that we turned left just after the wallpapered lining on the corridor had ended, the huge open space that it led into.
“Sit. Over there.” He shoved me to a chair. I sat down. He pulled out a set of handcuffs and slipped one over my wrist, and the other over the wood railing of the staircase I was sitting next to.
