Page 112 of Smokescreen


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“I was jumped outside my house when I dropped my grandma and brother at home after the reception. They threw me in the back of a car and from what I can tell, we drove for about an hour. But I was blindfolded so I have no idea where we are. They must have drugged me because when I woke up, some guy was in my face about you. Kept saying I was his insurance.”

“What does that even mean? He told me he was paid to get rid of me but decided to sell me instead.”

Any color he had drains from his face and his breathing picks up. “He told me he was watching you, waiting for the right time to get you alone. He tried to force me to call you but I refused. That’s when his guys beat me up. It was a cycle until they brought me here.”

“Oh my God. Who would do this?”

“I don’t know, but let’s hope Max knows I’m gone. It’s part of my plan.”

“You’re too weak for a plan!” I insist.

“Bella, I’ll bounce back.” He looks at me with the eyes of a man instead of a boy. The reminder of abuse comes back to me when he met with Max. And when he calls me my nickname, tears come to my eyes. “Okay, Pedro, tell me about your plan.”

“He took my personal phone, but my work phone is in my shoe. I activated the GPS. But if you can help me maybe we can call.”

He’s so weak but tries to bend over until I push him back. As soon as the boot slides off, the phone falls in my hand. Once I see the screen, my hope vanishes. The battery is dead. His face falls too but I squeeze his hand tightly.

“Max will know it’s too much of a coincidence for us both to disappear. Lucky for me he doesn’t believe in coincidences. Now we wait.”

He nods and tried to grin but grimaces instead. I walk him to the bathroom and then help him back to the mattress. We talk for hours until we both fall asleep on the small, worn mattress. Through my broken sleep, I hear the door open and then yelling. Pedro and I are both yanked up and pushed against the wall.

“How you feeling now, sweetheart? Ready for me yet?” My kidnapper runs a finger along my jawline.

I shake my head but refuse to look at him. His hand grips my face tight and forces me to turn. The look in his eyes causes my stomach to drop. He jerks his chin and one of the other men puts a knife to Pedro’s neck.

“No!” I fight hard against his grip. “Pedro!”

“Give your goodbyes. The boy is dead after we leave this room.”

“I’ll give in!” I scream and the room silences. “Let him go. If you let him live and go back to his family, I won’t fight you.”

“Fucking no way.” Pedro spits through a bloody mouth. His assailant holds him back as he struggles. “Stella, don’t do this.”

“Why are you doing this to him? He’s just a boy.”

“The two of you seemed pretty close at the picnic. He was supposed to lead you right to me, but he stupidly declined. Now he pays the consequences.”

“Please let him go.” There’s a lump in my throat as I try to push back the fear.

“Isn’t that sweet? Begging for the life of a useless teenager. Since you seem to care for him so much, I won’t make you watch me kill him.”

The two men holding Pedro, laugh and move him to the middle of the room. A tongue is shoved down my throat while a hand gropes my breast roughly. My teeth bite down hard and I shove to get free but only succeed in pissing this man off even more. He’s so quick, I don’t see his hand coming until it makes contact with my cheek causing my head to hit the wall hard. Blackness clouds my vision.

“I’ll be back and let’s hope you’ve reconsidered.” He throws me to the ground and leaves the room, his men following.

Once my head clears, I crawl to Pedro, who is bent over, spitting blood. We both edge back to the mattress and lie down. As soon as his breathing evens out, I get up and try to reach the window. It’s no use because it is sealed shut, but in the darkness, I can make out the thick forest surrounding us.

My body sinks to the ground and a few tears fall. There’s no doubt this man will kill Pedro. The madn

ess in his eyes tells me that. There has to be a way to get us out of here. My last thought before falling asleep is a prayer to Max.

Loud noises wake me and I inch closer to Pedro. The door cracks open and a slight scuttle scratches across the floor. A hand wraps around my mouth, muffling my scream.

“Miss Sullivan?” a gruff voice asks barely audible.

I nod.

“Is that Pedro behind you?”

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