AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I’m not back,” I grit out. “I left. We talked about this.”
“You went on vacation,” Tig counters. “And—”
“No, I left for good. We talked about this.” Well, I talked and then walked away. It was entirely possible he ignored me and didn’t absorb a word of what I said.
Tig shakes his head, not yet releasing me. “You’re out when I say you’re out, kiddo.”
It’s as if I’m back on the school yard with a chorus of “ooohs” for being in trouble with teacher. But here I’m in trouble with the bully.
“Besides, this job is too good to pass up.” He lowers his voice at my ear, and I can feel the smile even though I can’t see it as he adds, “And I’m going to sweeten the pot for you, kid.”
He snaps his fingers and the back doors to the shop burst open. Tig loves his dramatics. I’m about to break free from his hold when I spot two men flanking a young woman, barefeetshuffling, her hands tied with rope in front of her and a blindfold around her eyes and duct tape over her mouth.
Kenzie. Oh fuck, it’s my girl.
“Who’s that?” I choke out, keeping the mask on.
They can’t know I’ve got a heart. They need to think I’m just like Tig mentored me to be. And I keep my voice low. Hopeful she can’t hear me, can’t figure out I put her in this danger.
“Don’t be coy, lover boy,” Tig laughs, he signals again and they take her blindfold off.
Kenzie, baby, I’m so sorry for who you’re about to meet.
The worst side of me.
9
Kenzie
“You think he’s gonna go for it?” one man asks, but the question isn’t for me.
“If he knows what’s good for him. Tig don’t mess around. Bitch, keep moving.” He pulls on my arm, they’re tied in front of me and my head covered with a dirty cloth bag. I don’t recognize any of the voices.
I went out to get ice at the ice machine down the walkway outside and when I stepped out of the small room, the ice bucket went flying and my hands were twisted behind my back.
I tried to scream, but they gagged me. Then they blindfolded me. And then I freaked out. I fell to the floor and kicked one in the groin, at least it felt soft and yet meaty, and he did a really squeaky sound and grunted and I headbutted the other one. He finally got a grip on my arm and pulled me to stand, before whispering in my ear that I was lucky that the order was to bring me in alive.
And as soon as one said, “Damn, Dean got himself a fighter,” I decided to stop fighting.
He’ll save me.
After what seemed like a long ride in the back of a pickup truck, my bare feet pad on cold cement and the acrid scents of gasoline and oil saturate the air.
A man chuckles evilly and then says, “And I’m going to sweeten the pot for you, kid.”
My head jerks forward when the bag is pulled of my head. I blink for a few seconds and my eyes immediately land on the man who has my heart. I try to shake free of the guy who smells like cigarettes and whiskey, but his fingers dig into my upper arm.
Dean’s gaze connects to mine, but lightning fast, it’s gone. And in its wake, the vision leaves me chilled to my bones. It’s a look I’ve never seen from him. My heart clicks faster in my chest.
Dean? It’s me…
“Have you ever known me to give three shits about anyone?” Dean asks, spitting to the ground after making the declaration. The chill in my feet flashfires through my body. Every moment is crusted in a frost that he’s emanating.
But like always, I thaw from a man abandoning me and an irritation builds inside of me. My nostrils flare and my hands fist in the rope.
“How could you—” I start to say, but a greasy hand covers my mouth and I’m pulled backward into an office that is from the 70s, with green pleather chairs, a metal desk that has what looks like a splatter of blood across the top, and an ancient computer.
What’s going on here?
