Page 68 of Sway (Shady Valley Henchmen)

In what felt like mere seconds, I was gagged, bound, and being lifted and tossed in the trunk, landing hard on my shoulder, sending a white-hot jolt of pain through my system once again.

Then the trunk lid was closing.

And I was all alone.

There was comfort in that. Being in a trunk. Knowing no one’s hands were going to reach for me, do twisted shit to me.

It gave me time to focus, to think.

I’d lost my guns.

And the closest thing to another weapon I had on me was the buckle on my belt.

Not ideal, but if you were determined enough, damn near anything could be used to cause massive damage to a shithead who meant you harm.

I knew I had to fight and fight early.

Because if Cain Roth got me in his dungeon again, he was going to make sure there was no way for me to leave again.

He would probably have videos of my torture offered as a pay-per-view program like all the other poor women who found themselves locked down there.

So I couldn’t end up down there.

Or if there was no choice, I had to fight early to get away.

Or, if neither of those things were an option, I had to keep my wits about me. I had to be smart. I had to bide my time and find a way to sneak out. Or to charm Cain Roth enough to make him let down his guard.

I couldn’t imagine that guys like him put much stock in a woman’s ability to outwit him, outmaneuver him.

Sure, I’d gotten away before. But he likely saw that as a mistake on my part that made the gun malfunction, and me taking advantage of the chaos to get away.

He probably couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that I’d been planning and plotting against him.

I could do this.

I had to do this.

I was all I had.

Wait, no.

That wasn’t true anymore.

I wasn’t alone.

I had Sway.

And, by extension, I had his brothers as well. Men who would stop at nothing to find me.

Last we’d heard, Rook had been closing in. If Sway had managed to put things together about what happened to me, the pressure could motivate Rook to narrow down the location.

Then they would be coming.

But into what?

Would they stand a chance?

Would they be leaving behind wives and kids and brothers who cared about them? For me?

No.

I couldn’t do that. I couldn’t worry about all of them. They were grown, smart, trained, ruthless men. They could take care of themselves. I had to focus on myself, as harsh as that sounded.

The problem was, it was an endless drive.

And my mind got a chance to wander.

Like how long it would take for Sway to know something was wrong, to put the pieces together, to put the plans into motion.

Like what had happened to Cohen.

Poor, good-hearted, tormented Cohen.

And his dogs.

I mean, worst case, I believed that the club would take care of Miranda and Samantha for me. They’d gotten used to having the girls around.

But what about Mercury, Jett, and Bowie? Who would take care of them if Cohen was no longer around?

It was amazing how many worries a mind could conjure up when it was left to its own devices.

Incredibly, almost unbelievably, I was actually so tired I could feel myself dozing off with the smooth ride of the car before it finally seemed to turn onto some rugged back road, jolting me fully awake, my body feeling like it was buzzing, my mind racing again.

This was it.

The car idling, the engine cutting, the frame swaying as men climbed out, the slamming doors.

My stomach tensed as I tried to remind myself to keep breathing, to keep focusing.

There were the muffled sounds of male voices for a long time as I waited, wondering what was going to happen after I was tossed in a cell.

I didn’t get a chance to mull that over too much longer, though, because the lid opened, arms reached in, and I was dragged out.

What hit me was the deep wilderness of it all. Such a beautiful place. For such ugly deeds. For such heinous men.

I sucked in a deep breath, reminding myself what I was fighting for—freedom, nature, my dogs, love, a future.

I’d been determined to get free before when I had none of those things waiting for me.

I could only imagine how much I could use all these new passions to my advantage to get out once again.

I was surrounded by men.

The three or four who’d taken me, but several others too. All big. All armed.

It was useless to fight.

I needed to save my strength for what was coming, what I might have to endure, what I may have to do to get myself out of this.

Because as much as I hoped Sway was coming, that he would do anything to get me back, I also had to remember that the only person I had in that cell was myself. I had to be my own hero.

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