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How the hell did I allow this to happen? I fucking know better.Stay calm, Paxton. You know how to get out of situations like this. Just don’t act too soon.
To help focus her mind, she listened to her breathing. The rumble of male voices penetrated.
Focus, Paxton. Put the pain behind you. Concentrate on what’s important.
She strained against the zip ties cuffing her wrists together. How to get out of this? She gnashed her teeth as pain slashed through her brain.
Think Paxton! Don’t fuck this up or you’re gonna end up as a sex slave!
Her hands trembled as she unobtrusively as possible pulled off the hood. She turned her head to gauge the strength of the two men in the front.
Two mistakes—tying her hands in front of her and they hadn’t fettered her. She sneered at their mistake at underestimating her because she was a woman. Now, with an advantage, she moved silently.
My iWatch! They didn’t take it off.
It was specifically designed to look like a normal Fitbit so no one would view it as anything more. Paxton had one made for each of The Red Reign team members in case of an emergency. With her hands tied, she couldn’t activate the distress signal. Moving unseen in the dim light, she pressed the watch against her chin to unlock the screen. It took four attempts before she managed to find the exact pressure to send a distress call.
She had no idea how long she had been out or how far they were from the safehouse but she prayed that her team, and hopefully, the Cobras, would find her before the signal was lost.
Her attention moved to the two men. They appeared scruffy but clean and sounded educated as she listened to them discussing the past weekend's football match. She frowned. They didn’t fit the usual kidnapper look.
She went cold all over as Jared’s words came back to haunt her.
“They make it their business to know everything, Paxton.”
Her luck had finally run out. Instinct warned her this wasn’t a random kidnapping. These bastards worked for Boneiro.
But how did they find me? We’re in an FBI witness protection safehouse for fuck’s sake!
Paxton squeezed her eyes shut as she bit back the annoyed groan threatening to crawl to the surface. She had played right into their hands. Jared had told her part of their investigation was to find corrupt government officials. Some mole with knowledge of the details of the release of Senator Wilson’s daughter was, without a doubt, the informant.
I am so fucked.
Boneiro was out to clean up his son’s mess. The timing of her abduction was too close to the sex party to be coincidental. He didn’t want her dead. He wanted her to pay for daring to interfere in Mafia business. She might very well be a fresh face to be added to themenu.
She scoffed in her mind.You’re in for a surprise if you think I’ll go along merrily.
Sounds of traffic wafted through the open windows. A church bell chimed in the distance. The van rocked as they crossed what Paxton believed to be railway tracks. She used the opportunity to roll over against the back of the seats. Lifting her head, she peeked through the passenger window as they drove past the Flowerland Floral Shop.
We’re at Woodland Memorial Park. Now’s my chance.
Paxton didn’t hesitate. In one smooth movement she went onto her knees and hunched low behind the seats. The van rocked to a halt. She straightened and struck. She delivered a sideward blow to the driver’s nose, to disorientate him while dealing with the bigger danger, the burly man in the passenger seat. The thug cried out at the excruciating pain of broken cartilage and blood splotching his shirt. He hunched over as he covered his nose, tears temporarily blinding him. The van spluttered and died as he removed his foot from the clutch pedal.
“What the fuck... agh!” The second blow Paxton delivered was a sharp downward strike with the side of her hands, hitting the vagus nerve of the big man in the passenger seat. He was visibly dizzy but it hadn’t been hard enough to render him unconscious. Maneuvering herself between the seats combined with the pain splitting her head, limited the strength of her blows. A second double fisted blow against his chin offered the desired effect. He slumped against the door.
“You fucking bitch!” the driver hissed as he tried to clear his mind of the pain. Paxton didn’t wait to test his theory as she shuffled to the back door.
“Open, you motherfucker,” she shouted as she kicked it for the third time. This time the lock gave in and the doors slammed open. She was out and running in a flash. The driver was incapacitated with blood pouring from a broken nose. He wouldn’t be able to catch her. There were times that retreat was a safer option. Paxton had no intention of staying and tempting fate, especially if they were seasoned criminals who packed firepower.
“Fuuck!” she cried as a hand jerked her head back and forced her to her knees almost immediately. The asshat was stronger than she’d thought. She snapped her leg out in a sharp backward kick. “Fuck you, asshole,” she sneered as her foot connected with his knee. His leg gave way but the hold on her hair tightened.
“I’m going to fucking cut you, you whore!” he snapped against her ear.
Paxton delivered a swift shot with her elbow directly to his solar plexus at a slight upward angle, knocking the wind out of him. He reared back, gasping for breath as she got to her feet.
“I’ve just about had enough of this shit.” She stood poised with legs braced apart and shifted her body weight from the ball of one foot to the other. She forced her breathing under control. The flying back kick wasn’t executed to perfection because of her tied hands but the satisfaction of watching his feet lift off the ground as her heel connected with his chin made up for it. He flew through the air to land on his back inside the van. “Now that’s what I call a perfect aim.” If she could, Paxton would’ve dusted off her hands as a sign of satisfaction.
The man in the passenger seat hadn’t moved. There had been no traffic throughout the intense struggle. She understood why as she quickly scanned the surroundings. They were in the cemetery.
