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“I guess we’re doing this the hard way.” Kodiak slaps his hand over my mouth and forces me onto the floor. He proceeds to tie me up like Eden, binding my wrists to my ankles. It all happens so fast, I can’t even be sure when I stopped fighting. I just know at some point along the way, I lost the battle.
My body is exhausted, and without any food in me, I’m about ready to pass out. But I can’t give up. Not yet. With tears streaking down my cheeks, I lift my gaze to the faces staring back at me.
“What the hell is wrong with you people?” I demand. “Don’t you see what he’s doing to me?”
“Looks like you got yourself into a spot of trouble, sweetheart,” the bartender snaps. “And it’s not any of our concern.”
With that sentiment, everyone goes back to drinking and ignoring me while Kodiak hoists me over his shoulder and carries me out the door. I’m not sure where we are, but judging by the dusty landscape, I’m guessing it’s in the middle of the desert.
The man who picked us up on the side of the highway is climbing into his truck when he calls out to Kodiak. “Toss her in the back. I’ll give you a lift.”
“Thanks, brother.” Kodiak carries me to the truck bed and plops me onto the hard surface without an ounce of delicacy.
“Ouch,” I hiss.
“Did that hurt?” he clips out as he takes a seat beside me. “That was me being gentle, peaches. Just remember that if you get any bright ideas along the drive.”
He seems awfully salty as he tears his gaze away and stares off into the distance. It isn’t hard to figure out why when my eyes drift over the angry red scratch marks on his arm. There’s a tiny, insignificant part of me that feels a hint of regret for hurting him, but then I remind myself that he started it by kidnapping me.
His buddy starts up the truck and takes off. The road is bumpy and dusty, and I cough as it invades my lungs. I have to squeeze my eyes shut to stop the tears from falling, and all I can think about is how much I wish we’d left last night instead. But wishing won’t change anything. All I can hope for now is saving myself and Eden.
“Where are we going?” I ask.
Kodiak ignores the question, but it isn’t long before I get my answer. When his friend pulls to a stop, Kodiak hoists me out of the truck again, and I catch a glimpse of a white stucco house. Although house really isn’t the appropriate term. It’s a behemoth of a property, with all three exterior sides wrapping around an open courtyard with palm trees in the front. It’s at least two stories, with a terrace on the second level and a large arch adorning the entryway. At first glance, I think it might be another clubhouse of sorts, but there’s a two-car garage off to the side, so I know that can’t be the case.
Before I can give it any more thought, Kodiak calls out to his buddy.
“Thanks, Ace.”
The truck drives away, and just like that, I’m alone with the man I know nothing about. He hauls me up to the door and sets me belly down on the concrete slab without much care. As if it weren’t uncomfortable enough, the ropes are chafing my skin, ratcheting up my anxiety. This position is incredibly painful, and it feels like I’m losing blood flow in my limbs. I’m not sure how much longer I can endure it.
Kodiak punches a code into the keypad on the door and lifts me up again, lugging me inside. And once I see the place, there’s no question it’s a home. We pass through the entryway with a living and dining area off to the side, but he carries me farther into the shadows to another secure door.
“You don’t have to do this,” I plead before he punches in the code. “I can help you find whoever you’re looking for. We can figure out another way.”
“I already found who I’m looking for,” he answers. “So you can dispense with the fucking games, Bianca. Your lies won’t do you any favors here.”
I slam my lips shut, deciding to focus on the battles that really matter, like escaping. I crane my neck, but I can’t see the numbers Kodiak enters before he opens the door. When he flips on the light switch, it reveals what appears to be a rec room with some recliners and couches, gaming tables, a bar, and a giant film screen on one wall. But that isn’t where we stop. He carries me through another door into the adjoining bathroom. And this time, when he lowers my stomach onto the cold tile floor, I can’t tell if I’m getting used to being tossed around or if he’s actually being gentle. When he pulls a pocket knife from his jeans, my heart thrashes in my ears.
