Risky Romance (Wolf Security #4)

5. Whisper

CHAPTER 5

Whisper

My heart jammed in my throat as I sprinted toward the farm, splitting my attention between the steep incline ahead and the distant shed, desperate to see Dane again. My pounding heart matched the rhythm of my pounding feet, and I skidded to a halt, breathless.

I can’t just run in there!

That brute wouldn’t be happy to see me, and I doubted he would let Dane go without a fight. I needed to be smart about this—sneak down, assess the situation, and make a plan.

I scooted off the road, and the wiry bushes scraped my bare legs as I tried to keep my speed up. At the edge of the first corn paddock, I made a snap decision to cut through the shoulder-height stalks, rather than navigate around the massive field.

The large leaves slapped my face as I darted through the corn that narrowed my vision to a tunnel of green. High above me, a star emerged in the darkening sky, the North Star, Polaris, and I tried to focus on it, rather than the bedlam crashing through my mind.

Finally reaching the edge of the field, I gasped for breath and crouched down, studying the buildings ahead. The massive floodlights on the shed lit the bitumen area directly in front of the open doors. I would stand out like a beached whale if I approached that way, but I still couldn’t see inside. Was Dane still in there?

Was he alive?

Fucking hell. Not helpful, Whisper.

After checking the dirt track to my right to make sure the dude on the tractor wasn’t returning, I sprinted across the grass to the old barn. I slipped into the shadows, pressing my back against the warm weatherboards, straining to hear over the rapid thud of my heart. I listened for voices. Or worse, Dane’s screams.

The silence was just as terrifying.

I peered around the corner. The area was deserted. Holding my breath, I raced from the side of the barn to a massive piece of machinery that had a purpose I couldn’t even guess. The hulking equipment reeked of oil and rust as I crouched behind it.

The distance between me and the massive shed was about seventy feet. I squinted into the open shed doors, trying to make out shapes inside, but the bright lights over the entrance stole that possibility.

The silence was shattered by a muffled cry.

Shit! Was that Dane?

Clenching my fists, I darted from the machinery, aiming for the tall weeds beside the shed. The gravel crunching beneath my feet was so loud, but my heart thundered louder. I reached the side wall and pressed my backpack against the tin.

Huffing out a calming breath, I peered around to the front of the shed. Empty.

I stepped onto the bitumen and as I inched along the wall, the only sound was my heart hammering in my ears like a battle drum. I reached the edge of the doorway, and holding my breath, I peered inside. Crates were stacked into a tower in the center, and an immobile conveyor belt snaked between pieces of equipment, holding unlabeled cans that were lined up like soldiers.

The dim interior was a stark contrast to the blazing lights outside and I squinted, desperately searching for Dane amongst the equipment.

A double semi-trailer was parked against the far-right wall and the back doors were pinned open. My breath hitched. Was Dane required to drive that truck? That was part of his job description at the wharf, and he’d been proud of the fact that he was the youngest man to drive those big rigs for his boss, Roger Newton.

Did Roger get Dane involved in this mess?

Oh God. I hoped not. I liked Roger and he’d been working at the wharf for fifty years.

A person stumbled out of the shadows at the back of the shed. I peered across the dim warehouse and my heart stopped.

Dane.

He jolted forward and the agony on his face nearly crushed me. Behind him was another man who was just as big as the brute who had kicked him outside. The man shoved Dane again, and he staggered and tripped, falling without even using his hands to save himself.

I gasped.

“Get up, you fucking idiot.” The brute kicked Dane’s hip.

Oh God. Dane. No. No!

I needed to get him. I needed a weapon. Scanning the equipment inside, I spotted a large open toolbox near the stack of crates.

A hand slapped over my mouth. I screamed against the palm as I was yanked back against a solid wall of muscle.

Dane’s gaze swept toward me.

“No!” His cry echoed about the shed.

The asshole kicked Dane again.

I punched over my shoulder and kicked backward, but the hand clamped tighter over my mouth, making it impossible to scream.

“Who the fuck are you?” he barked in my ear.

I thrashed against him, fighting with everything I had, but he was too strong. He lifted me off the ground, holding my back against his body as he carried me to the old barn. My mind splintered in dozens of directions as I screamed and kicked and punched.

But he was a machine, carrying me to the barn like I was a sack of corn.

I scraped my nails up his arm. I rammed my fist over my shoulder aiming for his eyeballs.

Fuck. Fuck. I searched for the man on the tractor but couldn’t see him.

“Help!” I screamed into the fat hand over my mouth.

“Shut up, or I’ll snap your neck,” he growled in my ear.

“Fuck you! Let me go!” I tried to twist out of his grip, but he was too strong. His fingers bit into my flesh as he marched into the barn. I scanned the rusty equipment, desperate for something to grab onto. He manhandled me into a stall and grabbed a rope off the wall.

No. No. No!

He kicked my legs out from under me, dropping me onto the wooden floor so hard the wind punched out of me.

I fought against him, but he pinned me down, crushing me with his weight.

I twisted and jerked. “Get off me!”

He yanked my hands behind my back, and I screamed until my throat burned.

Ropes bit into my wrists, and I cried out as he tugged tighter.

“No. Please. Let me go,” I begged, thrashing beneath him.

The ropes scooped around my ankles, and he pulled tight, hogtying me.

“Please! Don’t do this,” I said around tears, but my cries were futile. The rope was too tight.

He flicked open the blade on a pocketknife. Tears prickled my eyes as fear burned my insides.

He cut the straps of my backpack and shoved me over to face him.

“Let me go, you asshole!”

He swept a rag off the wall and shoved it into my mouth and the foul stench made me gag. Fighting nausea, I pushed it out with my tongue and screamed.

“You little bitch.” He tried to shove the rag into my mouth again, but I clamped my teeth so hard my jaw trembled.

He pinched my nose. “You wanna die?”

His hot breath swamped my face as I glared into his yellow-tinted eyes.

I gasped for air, and he shoved the oily rag back into my mouth. He strode to the wall, to grab another rag, and before I could spit out the first one, he tied the second rag around my head, pinning the gag in place.

My shoulders heaved as I fought to breathe through my nose.

“Now,” he said, scooping my pack off the ground, “who the hell are you?”

“No!” I tried to yell, but it was pointless. I fought against the ropes, but they strangled my wrists and ankles tighter.

He dug into my pack and pulled out my phone. Dropping it to the ground, he stomped on it with his boot.

Tears pooled in my eyes, blurring my vision.

He found my purse.

“Here we go.” He flipped out my driver’s license. “Jewel Wagner. You must be related to Dane. Stupid bastard.”

I whimpered.

He pulled out another card and sucked air through his teeth.

“Well, well. No wonder you put up a good fight.” He waggled my Border Force ID in my face. “Come to rescue your little brother, did you?”

I shook my head.

“I think that was exactly your plan.” He sighed like he was bored. “Well, Jewel Wagner of Wishbone Avenue Rosebud, thank you. Because with you here, Dane will do exactly as I say.”

Fear gripped me in a vice, and my body turned to mush.

What have I done?

Now Mom and all my brothers are in danger too.