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“Shoulda listened,” he said, shaking his head. He turned her to face the man she’d kicked.
The guy was furious. Red-faced and sweating, he stormed toward her.
“Look, I won’t say anything about your poker game,” she spoke fast. “I don’t even know anything. Just let me leave, and you’ll never see me again.” He might get a visit from Lock and Spec, but he didn’t need to know that.
“Shut your fucking mouth,” he said with a growl. He wound up and slapped her across the face so fast she never saw it coming.
Fiery pain engulfed her cheek as her head whipped to the side with so much force her neck spasmed. Brenna cried out and cradled her face. She barely had time to process the strike before being lifted into the air and tossed over a broad shoulder. The world flip-flopped. She could barely make sense of it or think of anything beyond how much her face hurt. The man was strong as hell and had used much of his power to hit her. Something wet ran over her forehead and down her cheek before dripping to the ground.
She pressed a hand to her mouth.
Blood. Her lip must have split when he slapped her.
The fog began to clear, and Brenna realized she was in trouble. She screamed for him to release her. With all her might, she pounded his back and kicked her legs wildly, but it did no good. He carried her into the building and down a dark hallway, ignoring her screams the entire time.
Her voice cracked, and her throat ached, but she didn’t stop shouting for anyone to help her.
Blood rushed to her head, making it hard to focus on her surroundings. Toes passed through her limited field of vision, so she knew other people were around, but no one seemed to care about the upside-down woman hollering her head off.
She reached out, trying to grasp onto someone or something that could help, but she only managed to scrape her knuckles bloody on the wall.
The terrain changed. It took a moment for her muddled brain to realize they were walking down a long, dark staircase. With each step, the world grew gloomier and more rustic. Where the hell were they going? A goddamn cave?
After only a few steps, Brenna couldn’t see anything. She stopped thrashing and breathed, trying to conserve energy and let her vision adjust. Struggling proved useless, so she needed to be smart and think of a different strategy. Save the fight for when it had a chance of success.
The brute, Bolt, Oliver had called him, stopped walking.
Brenna held her breath as the sound of jangling keys broke the silence. Her captor stepped through a door and tossed her on the floor. She hit it hard, crying out as her bones crunched and bruises formed. Pain shot through her hip and back, but she scrambled as far into the space as she could. When she hit a wall, she plastered herself to it and prepared to fight if necessary. Everything hurt, but she forced herself to concentrate on her surroundings, not her battered body.
Bolt shook his head, laughing. “You’re gonna be a fun one to break,” he said in the most ominous threat possible. Her insides quivered, and her stomach roiled from fear and dangling upside down for so long.
The door slammed shut with the distinct click of a deadbolt ringing louder than a gunshot.
Brenna’s breath came so fast she had to be hyperventilating, yet she couldn’t control it. Fear clawed at her like an undead creature trying to pull her down to hell.
Lock wouldn’t get the chance to kill her for going behind his back. She had a terrifying feeling someone might take care of that for him.
Only they’d do it for real.
Her fingers and toes began to tingle. The sensation spread along her arms and legs. Her rapid breaths became strained and wheezy. Tears streaked down her cheeks, and she gagged, choking on air.
“Shh. Hey, breathe with me.” The soft woman’s voice made her jump and scoot along the wall away from the speaker.
“W-who’s there?”
Movement from the opposite corner of the small, dark room had her straining to see. A woman crawled into view and sat directly under the dim lightbulb hanging from the rocky ceiling. She didn’t attempt to stand but stayed low on the ground at Brenna’s eye level.
“We’ll get to that. Just concentrate on slowing your breathing.”
She did, following the young woman’s drawn-out inhales and exhales. After a few moments, the pins and needles subsided, and she began to breathe at a normal rate. “T-thank you.”
“My name’s Kelsie.”
“I’m Brenna. Um…” Brenna shook her head. It felt like her brain cells wouldn’t line up to function properly, and she needed to jostle them back into place. “I’m sorry, it’s hard to think right now.”
“Did they drug you?”
She frowned. “No. No, I don’t think so. I’m just overwhelmed and terrified.” She didn’t recall a prick to her skin as she’d been hauled there like a sack of flour, and she certainly hadn’t had anything to eat or drink. “You?”
