Chapter 23
Twenty-Three
A headache pulsed through Asher’s skull and into his eyes. He struggled to focus as he came awake. The low hum drumming through his ears didn’t help. Where was he?
He rolled—or attempted to—but didn’t get far. His hands were bound behind his back. The fabric of the unicorn costume bunched around him, twisted, further restricting his movement.
So did the seat back in front of his face. He was in the back of his rented SUV.
And the car was moving.
But who was driving?
Lifting his hips, he tried to free up some of the fabric so he could sit up, but it refused to budge.
Asher growled and tried to muscle his arms apart. The costume swished, and he kicked the tailgate as he strained against his bonds, but he stayed stubbornly bound up.
The vehicle made a sharp right turn; hard enough to tip him to the side, and he rolled into the wheel well, smashing his face on the plastic.
“Watch it, asshole!” He didn’t care if the guy knew he was awake. He probably already did with all the thrashing he’d been up to.
The world outside dimmed, and the car slowed. Asher struggled to right himself, so he could see where they were. The costume fabric had loosened some, but it was slick, and in the tight space without the use of his arms, he kept sliding against it.
A moment later, the car stopped and the engine cut. The interior light came on as the driver got out.
Instead of getting up, Asher wiggled onto his back. He’d kick this jackass in the face the moment he opened the hatch.
A shadow passed the window, then a few seconds later, the tailgate lifted. Asher lashed out, but connected only with air.
Light blinded him from a flashlight, and the man’s low chuckle sounded from several feet away. “Did you really think I was that stupid?”
“I don’t know. You kidnapped me in broad daylight. That’s pretty dumb.” He squinted, turning his face away from the brightness. The guy had one of those megawatt flashlights—the kind that were as bright as the sun. With the headache he already had, the light made it a million times worse. But maybe that was the man’s plan. Disorient him so he couldn’t think well enough to plan an escape.
“In that neighborhood, even if someone saw something, they won’t tell. There, the cops are the enemy. Who are you?”
Asher froze, confused. “What? Why did you abduct me if you don’t know who I am?”
“Because you were in my way. Who are you? Who hired you?”
“No one hired me. I was there with a friend.”
“Esther, yes.”
“How do you know her name?”
“I know a lot of things. But not who you are. Again, what’s your name?”
Asher hesitated, but decided for now, to play the man’s game. “Asher.”
“Asher what?”
“What does it matter what my last name is?”
“Because I like to know who I’m dealing with. Don’t make me hurt you.”
Asher didn’t need to see past the bright light to hear the hammer being pulled back on a handgun.
“What’s your name?”
“Asher Horn.”
“See? That wasn’t so difficult. How do you know Esther?”
“I told you; we’re friends.”
“Funny. I’ve never seen you around before this past week.”
Asher’s focus sharpened. Just how long had this man been watching Esther? “I don’t know what to tell you, man. We’ve been friends for a while.” He decided to feed the man the lies they’d constructed to tell others. “I live out of town for now. I’m here looking for a job and staying with her while I job search and house hunt. Now, how about you tell me who you are?”
“No. But thank you for that information.”
Asher heard rustling. The light bobbed. Then, in one quick movement, the man leaned into the car and plunged a needle deep into Asher’s thigh.
“What the hell, man?” He tried to move away, but with his hands behind his back and the limited confines of the car, he could do little more than twist.
It wasn’t enough. He watched the man inject something, then back out of the car.
“Enjoy your nap.”
The guy stepped back and shut the hatch. A moment later, the horn honked once and the locks engaged.
Muttering a curse, Asher kicked at the window. His vision swam and what should have been a powerful kick barely thudded on the glass.
No. This shouldn’t happen so fast. Intramuscular injections took time to be absorbed.
Unless the guy got lucky and hit a blood vessel.
Or he was a pro and knew how to make one stick count.
That thought didn’t fill him with comfort.
Seconds passed, and the car interior swam wildly in front of Asher’s eyes. Blackness edged the corners of his vision. He fought against it, weakly kicking at the window again.
But it was no use.
The blackness took hold, and he sank onto the cargo area floor.