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“Huh?” The unexpected question distracts me, if only for a moment.

“I’m Shadow. What's your name?”

“Ha—Harper,” I get out through my chattering teeth.

“Nice. It's a pretty name. Pretty name for a pretty bride.” I shudder against him. Pretty bride? I'm still not ready for that, kidnapping or not. “Hey, we're not gonna hurt you, okay. Now, the big bruiser over there is Thunder, and the asshole driving the car that looks just like him, but without the common sense, is Lightning.”

“Fuck you,” snaps Lightning.

Then he gestures next to us. “And pretty boy over there is Outlaw.”

Outlaw smiles, and in spite of how terrifying he looks with all those tattoos, it's one heck of a smile, I'll give him that. He flicks his tongue, and a piercing sparkles at me.

“Um… nice to meet you?”

“Honey, we know you don't mean that,” Shadow says. “But we didn't have much choice. This wasn’t exactly the plan, but the timing got fucked up and we couldn’t exactly let you get fucking crushed on your wedding day, right? We'll let you off as soon as we're clear so you call your Daddy and get a cab back.”

We corner again, the wheels screaming, and Shadow's arms tighten. Why is it that a man like him makes me feel safe, when a hug from my father does the opposite? What if… what if I didn’t call Vincent? What if I just went home and put all of this behind me? It's a stupid fantasy, because they could still execute me and leave me in the desert somewhere, but… maybe not? They’re obviously dangerous, but they don’t seem like monsters.

We leave the Strip behind, along with its fancy hotels and casinos, and head into much rougher looking neighborhoods. You don't think about stuff like that when you think about Vegas, but I guess every city has them, even the ones famous for their glitz and glamor. This feels much more like where Mom and I live, to be honest, a bit more like home. Poor neighborhoods, full of ordinary people, who don't have billions of dollars to spend on a chandelier that literally no one other than Vincent cares about.

I don't hear sirens anymore, so does that mean that we got away? Relief floods me at that for some reason. The sensible thing would be to actually want the cops here.

“We need to ditch this thing. A limo sticks out like sore fucking thumb,” growls Thunder. I'm not sure he communicates in any other way.

“Pull over there,” says Outlaw, pointing at a strip mall that looks like it's been closed for years. “Around the back.”

We come to a stop behind the building. Thick strips of paint are peeling off the walls and the asphalt is pocked with wispy, brown weeds growing through it. Outlaw pops open the door and a dry, hot gust of wind rushes into the car, making the AC kick into overdrive. “C'mon.”

A moment later, it's me and four giant bikers in an abandoned loading zone, and I'm hugging myself despite the heat. “What happens now?” I ask nervously.

Lightning stretches, showing off not just his powerful chest and arms, but also the grip of his gun sticking out of his belt. “You got a phone?”

“Yeah,” I admit reluctantly. What if they take it? “If my luggage is in the trunk like it’s supposed to be. We were supposed to go straight to the airport and fly to Hawaii for the honeymoon.”

“Lucky you. Nothing that fancy waiting for us,” says Outlaw. “But with a daddy like that, I'm guessing there aren't many places you haven't been.”

I snort. “This is the first time I’ve even been on this side of the country.” I shake my head. “I haven't been… been anywhere! Just home with Mom and—”

“This isn’t a fucking tell us your life podcast,” interrupts Thunder. “Get your phone, call yourself an Uber or something and go home to Daddy. We're getting the fuck outta here.” In spite of his growly demeanor, I swear he’s giving my cleavage just as much attention as his twin.

“You're seriously going to leave me here? A single woman alone wearing… this?” I gesture up and down my dress, where my little train has taken on a distinctly gravelly tinge, even if the rest is still beautiful. “I'm going to get mugged or worse before anyone gets here.”

Maybe I shouldn’t have drawn their attention to the dress that shows off my breasts and snatches my waist perfectly, since the way all four pairs of eyes follow my hands up and down makes me wonder if I might be in trouble faster than I thought. The thought doesn’t scare me as much as it probably should.

“Sorry, babe,” Lightning says, sounding almost like he means it. Like he regrets giving me back. “We can't stick around. We got some things to figure out, a limo to ditch, and I'm pretty sure that when your ride comes, there's gonna be a fuckload of the city’s finest coming with it. I don’t really want to be here when that happens, you know?” He adjusts the gun in his belt.

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