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My action tipped me forward. I landed on my face and shoulder before tumbling to my side with a clatter on the hardwood floor.
“For fuck’s sake,” my kidnapper said. He righted me with a huff of effort. “Calm down. You’re still alive, so assume you’re useful for now.”
I gritted my teeth, forcing my brain to wake up faster to assess the situation.
Memories flooded me. He’d appeared in the woods and Tasered me with a shock of electricity outside my car. Dropped me to the ground before I’d had a chance to move. He’d followed the rules of weapon training—finger on the trigger if you mean business, and don’t hesitate.
Somehow, he’d got me here.
I glanced around at the tidy living room, trying to identify the location. Typical comfortable space, with blankets on the back of the couch and family pictures on the wall, no one I knew.
A child in one photo seemed familiar, but I couldn’t place her.
Almost as if I’d seen her on a TV show or a video of some kind.
It was still daylight, so I hadn’t been unconscious long, which probably meant we weren’t far from home. He must’ve gagged me, too, because fibres clung to my tongue.
My jaw ached from my fall, but it only added to the catalogue of minor aches.
I wasn’t badly hurt. Why, I had no idea.
Larson took a seat opposite me. Set down the Taser he’d still been holding and lifted a phone.
“How did ye knock me out?” I asked.
He squinted at his screen. “Blood choke hold.”
Compression to the neck, a technique used in martial arts. You clamped down on the person’s carotid artery and jugular vein and could render them unconscious in seconds. It didn’t even take much effort. It also didn’t last long.
“I should’ve woken up when ye released my throat,” I said.
Larson spread his arms. “Sometimes people die from it. Probably mixing it with the Taser was a bad idea. Whatever, it worked for me, and it gave me enough time to carry you to the car. Drugging your ass would’ve been such a pain.”
He was stronger than he appeared. He’d so easily been able to capture me.
I’d wanted this, to come face to face with the man who’d terrorised Ariel, but he had me at his mercy.
I needed to regain control. The rule of thumb was to create a connection and generate sympathy. Kinship with your kidnapper.
“My arms hurt. I think my right one is broken. Can ye unlock the cuffs?” I asked.
He shook his head, his gaze still on his phone. “The fucking camera has crashed. Cheap piece of crap.”
“I’m pretty good with electronics. Let me help,” I tried.
Larson sighed and raised his gaze to me. “With a fake broken arm? Just be quiet.”
He wasn’t what I expected.
Skinny and tall with fair hair, as per the CCTV footage we’d seen, but he was also intelligent-looking. No feverish glint in his eyes. No real emotion, except for perhaps slight boredom.
I didn’t know who I was reasoning with.
I tried another approach.
“Ye want me to be quiet? After everything you’ve done? Ye terrorised my girlfriend, tried to kidnap her then stalked her through her friend’s house. Ye even burned my fucking car to smoke her out. Doesn’t that earn me a voice?”
This got me his attention. Larson leaned on the armrest, regarding me. “I’m here for Ariel, boyfriend, but none of that was to do with me. I didn’t touch your car.”
