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I dig my elbow into the middle of his body again while trying to twist away, but nothing stops him from slinging an arm around my waist and trying to pick me up.
It may even be funny that he’s too weak or I’m too heavy for him to lift off the ground if he hadn’t just shot Thane and wasn’t trying to kidnap me.
Holding my ground, my feet scuffle as he begins to drag me slowly toward a long, dark row of parked cars. I lose one sneaker, then the other, so I’m dragging bare feet over abrasive pavement. My eyes frantically search for help, but there’s not another soul around, or if there is, they wisely dove out of sight when the shooting started.
Within seconds, I can’t breathe. I can’t think. I can’t believe this is actually happening to me.
Despite wanting to keep fighting to get free, my limbs grow weak while my lungs burn from a lack of oxygen. The sunlight dims until I can’t see anything but blackness. There are no sounds.
This is it. This is how I’m going to die – by suffocation, thanks to some psycho kidnapper.
And the last thought in my head – I wish I had more time with Barrett.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Barrett
I’ve spent the last few days trying to stay busy and not think about Lyla. Instead, I’ve been online reading about how to start a nonprofit, talking to several guys from the army to see if they want to come visit and find out more about prospecting. This project is going to be a lot of work, but I want to do this. I need to do something.
I throw myself into the endeavor until I lose track of time.
Sitting back in the crappy chair at the computer desk in the kitchen, I stretch my arms over my head and try to judge the time based on the level of darkness outside the window rather than just look at my phone.
Because if I pick up my phone, there’s no telling what I might do with it while it’s in my hand. I would probably do something stupid like ask Lyla if I can see her.
Instead of checking it for messages, I just get up and head out to my bike to ride down to Greer’s.
I knew something was wrong when I spotted a few extra bikes in the parking lot, then see the group of men gathered at the door. And I’m pretty sure my headlights flashed over a snarling dog logo on the back of the leather jackets.
As soon as I cut the engine on my bike and climb off, I hear someone say, “There he is.”
Great, Isaac came all the way out here to kill me?
Remy and Colt come up to me, but instead of looking angry under the glow of the streetlamp, their faces both seem concerned.
“What’s up?” I ask as I hurry to take off my helmet. “Did they come here to start shit?” I ask, nodding my chin over to the group standing by the door.
“Nice of you to return our calls and texts,” Remy grumbles sarcastically. “We were about to come looking for you.”
“I was busy. What’s going on?”
I’m not surprised he’s pissed. They’ve been outnumbered for no telling how long. “Where’s RJ?”
“He’s not answering his phone. Jordan either,” Colt mutters. “If those sons of bitches touched either of them…”
“Calm down,” Remy tells him. “If they had the kid or RJ, they would’ve bragged about it by now. No, they’re acting desperate.”
“Desperate? What are you talking about? Someone tell me what’s going on!” I demand. “Why are the Devil Hounds here if they’re not trying to start more shit?” I ask, but my brothers don’t respond. Oh no. “Did something happen to Lyla?”
“We don’t know the specifics,” Remy says. “But they showed up half an hour ago demanding to talk to you. There was a shooting at the Village Shopping Center today in broad daylight.”
“Okay. That sucks, but there are shootings all over the place every day.”
“One of the Devil Hounds was shot. He’s in critical condition.”
I glance over at the waiting group, relieved when I see Isaac looking impatient and annoyed. If it wasn’t him, then… I search for the fucker that kept showing up at the worst times, but I don’t see him.Shit.
“Thane was shot?”
