Chapter Forty-One - Elise #2
For the first time tonight, I stop thinking about Joshua and evaluate the man sitting beside me.
If I hadn’t been so caught up in my own problems, I might’ve noticed the stiffness in Ryder’s posture.
I might’ve noticed that he called me Elise, not Elli.
I might’ve noticed his knuckles turning white from how hard he’s squeezing the wheel.
I might’ve sensed the chill in the air surrounding him.
And I might’ve noticed that the silence between us is far from natural.
Something is wrong, and though I don’t know what it is, I’m sure of one thing.
Ryder isn’t taking me to Joshua.
I try to convince myself that Joshua had to go somewhere else for the conference, but I can’t. This instinct is the same one I felt when I followed Joshua to the warehouse, and I had been right then.
Just the idea of Ryder being a traitor is enough to make me spiral, so I can’t dwell on my emotions. There will be plenty of time for that later.
Right now, I need a plan.
As inconspicuously as possible, I scan Ryder up and down. As predicted, his gun is strapped to his right hip, and there’s a good chance he has a knife in a holster on his left.
The gun is my best bet.
The plan forms quickly in my head, and I pray it works.
“I’m going to puke,” I abruptly announce as one hand flies to my stomach and the other covers my mouth.
When Ryder turns to look at me, I see sincere concern in his eyes and wonder if I’m making a mistake.
“There isn’t a gas station anywhere near here,” he huffs.
“Pull over!” My shout is louder than necessary, but I need to sell it.
He grunts but obliges.
As soon as the car pulls to a stop, I swing the door open and climb out. Leaning over, I dry heave in a performance that truly deserves an Oscar.
As expected, Ryder appears at my side. “Uh, should I hold back your hair?”
I nod, and when he’s only a foot away, I make my move.
Ryder once told me that my biggest advantage in a fight is that I can use my opponent’s weight against them, but he was wrong.
My biggest advantage is that my opponent will underestimate me every time.
Right before he grabs my hair, I swing an elbow back into his gut. He doubles over, but I don’t stop there. I jerk my knee into his chest and bring my elbow down on his back. Before he has a chance to recover, I grab a hold of the gun and scramble toward the thick woods.
Within ten seconds, I’ve bested the very man who trained me.
“What the hell, Elise?”
“You never call me Elise.”
“And that warrants an assault? Put that gun down before you hurt someone.” His wide eyes are disbelieving, but there’s a darkness there that keeps my gun firmly in place.
“Where were you taking me?”
“To Mr. Moreno! What the hell is going on?”
“Joshua is back at the base, isn’t he? He has a conference call that he wouldn’t have rescheduled just because of our fight. So, I’ll ask you again,” I say as I casually flip the gun’s safety off. “Where the hell were you taking me?”
Lifting his chin, Ryder lets the act fall away. “Put the gun down, and we can have a conversation.”
“We are having a conversation, and I suggest you start talking because I’m getting impatient.”
He lifts his hands defensively. “You’re making a mistake.”
I laugh at that. “I’m not the dumbass betraying Joshua. I saw what he did to Tripp, and what he does to you will be so much worse.”
He ignores my threat. “Put the gun down, Elise.”
It’s obvious that he’s not going to tell me what I want to know, so I try a new approach.
“Give me your phone,” I demand, cursing myself for leaving mine in the garden.
“I’m not going to do that.”
Shifting the gun just slightly to the left, I cock it back and pull the trigger. The boom pierces the quiet night, but I don’t let it rattle me.
“You sure about that?” I ask sweetly.
“Dammit, Elise! Are you insane?”
“I’m not messing around, Ryder. Toss your phone over here before I blow your head off.”
Ryder glares, but slowly reaches into his back pocket, and I prepare to catch the small device, but it never comes.
In a flash, Ryder’s arm snaps out, and a metallic shard flies through the air. Before I know what’s happened, the knife slices my upper arm.
My scream echoes against the trees. The searing pain is immediate, and my grip on the gun falters.
In my dazed state, I barely notice Ryder darting forward, knocking the gun from my hand and dragging me toward the car.
Blood flows down my arm, but it doesn’t stop me from thrashing in his hold.
“Get off me! Ryder, get off! Let me go! I’ll kill you, you bastard!”
Streams of insults pour from my mouth, but Ryder doesn’t acknowledge a single one.
He slams me roughly against the car, pulling my arms behind my back and securing them with duct tape. He does the same to my legs, rendering me powerless to escape him.
“Shut your mouth before I have to do it for you,” Ryder snarls in my ear.
I’m shoved carelessly in the back seat and he settles in behind the wheel, pulling onto the road.
Despite his threat, I rattle off every insult that comes to mind. If nothing else, I want to get under his skin. But when all my spiteful words have no effect, I try a crueler tactic.
“Your daughter should be ashamed to have a traitorous bastard like you for a father,” I spit.
The car jerks to the side of the road so fast that I slam painfully against the door. When Ryder whirls around in his seat to face me, true fear grips my heart at the fury in his eyes.
“That’s it,” he mutters as he grabs a handful of my hair and drags me toward him.
I writhe against him, but it doesn’t matter. He silences me with two layers of duct tape and tosses me back into the seat before driving off again.
Instead of struggling, I lay idly in the back to conserve my strength as much as possible.
We drive for another twenty minutes or so when the car finally pulls to a stop.
“Don’t make me regret this,” he warns as he pulls me from the car, but I have no idea what he means until the tape is ripped from my mouth.
It burns, but all I can do is glare daggers at him.
He uses his knife to cut my legs free, but my wrists remain bound. When I can walk, Ryder drags me up the cracked sidewalk that leads to the building that I finally take in.
An abandoned factory.
When we enter the worn doorway, I don’t have time to take in my surroundings because I’m pushed into another man’s arms.
Nate.
My mind works unsuccessfully to put the pieces together. I look to Ryder. “Wait, you work for my dad, too?”
Why would Ryder treat me so harshly if he was taking me back to my father?
“No. They work for me,” a new but familiar voice announces.
My heart nearly stops as the voice’s owner enters the room.
“Mason.”