59. Waverly
CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE
WAVERLY
I do my best to control my breathing so I don’t give away that I’ve made him, but my flight reflex is screaming at me to get the fuck out of here.
In the back of my mind, I’m planning out my next steps. If I can get back to my apartment, I can throw a few things in a bag and then make my way to the train station.
I won’t go to Grand Central Station, that would be too obvious, but if I hit one of the smaller stations, I might be able to make a clean break without anyone tracking me.
But the thought of leaving Kade and Emmett has my plans stalling.
I can’t go without telling them, and even if I did, they’d track me. They’ve proven that they can do it time and time again, so I guess they would catch up with me eventually.
The couple in front of me catches my eye and waves me over, forcing me to put my customer service hat back on for the moment. It will be too obvious if I run out of here like a bat out of hell, so I need to keep up the pretense that I’m okay.
“Another glass of Pinot?” I ask, my voice as even as I can manage.
“Are you okay?” the woman asks gently, her head dipping closer to me. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“Oh, I’m fine.” I force a smile to my face.
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but you don’t look okay.”
There’s nothing but concern in her eyes, and when I look up at her partner, he looks equally as worried. Maybe I can trust them. I’ve seen them around the club, so they must have been through the background checks.
I nibble at my bottom lip as I consider my options. Trusting strangers isn’t something I often allow myself to do, but they might be my only choice right now. “I think I might be in danger,” I say softly.
“The man in the corner?” the man asks, his dark brows tugging together with concern.
I give a slight nod, but neither of them looks his way. “I’m not sure what to do, and the other waitress won’t be back from her break for a while yet.”
The man taps the bar a couple of times, and I can tell he’s thinking something through. “Okay, here’s what you’re going to do. I’m going to order something you can’t make out here. Whether or not you actually can is irrelevant, but it will give you a chance to call the other bar, where Abigail can alert Wyatt or Elias.”
“I don’t think they’re in tonight,” I tell him.
“Okay, what about Brodie then?”
The thought of the hulking security guard, who I quickly realized was nothing more than a big teddy bear, has my heart rate settling slightly. He won’t let anyone hurt me or anyone else here.
“Okay, I can do that.” I nod slightly.
“Oh babe!” The woman pats her partner’s shoulder, her voice loud enough that Emmett and Kade’s father should be able to hear. “You know what I could really go for? One of those cheese boards they do inside!”
“Did you want to head in?”
She sighs. “Not really, I just wanted a quiet drink before we head home, but I’m snacky.”
“Is there any chance we can order one of those for out here?” he asks.
I nod. “Yeah, let me call the other bar and get one sent out.”
Without missing a beat, I step to the phone and press my back to the wall beside it, making sure I have a good view of the whole room.
I dial the other bar, and Abigail answers on the second ring. “Hey, bestie! I miss you over here. How’s it going out there?”
I can’t help but scoff at the name. “Um, it’s okay. Listen, can you send a cheese board out here with Brodie?”
“With Brodie?” she asks, clearly confused by the request.
“Yeah, can you have Brodie bring it to the front bar?” I’m hoping she’ll take the hint, but I have no idea if I’m hinting enough for her to understand what I’m getting at.
“You need security?” she asks, her voice suddenly serious.
“As soon as possible,” I say. “Is Emmett in there?”
“No, he hasn’t shown up tonight, which I thought was odd, especially on a night you’re working.”
My brows knit together, he said he was going to be here while Kade worked. But something must have held him up. I probably have a message from him.
“I’m getting Brodie and Easton to come to you now, but can you slip into the back office for me?”
“Oka—” I don’t get to finish the word before I feel a gun press to my ribs. The owner of the weapon takes the phone from my hand and slowly places it back onto the receiver.
“Silly girl,” he murmurs. “Now, you’re going to walk out of here with me, and you’re not going to make a fuss unless you want me to kill everyone here?” I don’t need to look up to know it’s my guys’ father holding the gun, and honestly, looking up would probably make matters worse at this point.
I shake my head. “No, please don’t. I’ll go with you.”
I can’t have that on my conscience, even if this might be the stupidest thing I’ve ever done. But maybe Abigail will get someone here before he can get me out the door.
He presses the barrel of the gun into my bruised ribs, and I let out a hiss as pain washes through me. “Shut up,” he snaps.
“I have a broken rib,” I grit out.
“I don’t really give a fuck what you have.” He pushes me toward the side door, and panic laces itself into every breath.
If I let him get me outside, that could be it. At least while I’m here, there are witnesses, people that might care if I live or die. But as soon as I’m out on the street, no one will be able to save me.
It’ll be all over.
I finally look up at the couple that was helping me, only to find them being held by two men I noticed at one of the back tables.
Of course he didn’t come here alone.
“Please don’t hurt them,” I whisper. “They were only trying to help me. Please don’t kill them for that.”
He chuckles. “I think you should be more worried about your own life, sweetheart.” He shoves me out the side door and into the parking lot, and I go without fighting. I need to save my energy and fight when I have the chance, because right now all fighting is going to get me is shot.
I catch sight of a black van, and my stomach bottoms out. Fuck. They could take me anywhere, and no one would know. No one would know where I am. They wouldn’t be able to find me.
The closer we get, the harder my heart beats until I’m certain it’s about to thump right out of my chest, and yet my feet continue to carry me to my own demise.
The door opens, and I’m shoved inside, my body hitting the metal ground hard and tearing a cry from my throat.
“Shut the bitch up, you know how I hate listening to women cry,” he barks out, but I’m too distracted by the pain and panic as they war for dominance.
Another set of hands grasps my shoulders, and I’m tugged up into a sitting position at the same time someone else secures my wrists with cable ties, but it’s all a blur through the tears I refuse to shed.
I don’t want these people to see my weakness. I don’t want to give them the satisfaction of my tears.
Except when they move away from me, and I realize there’s someone else across from me, a sob breaks free.
Emmett is tied up, his face black and blue and his knuckles torn and bruised from where he put up a fight. His dark eyes lock on mine, and I see every single emotion I’m feeling swirling around in the depths a moment before the van jerks forward and I almost topple over.
“Stay calm,” he whispers.
I nod, my neck moving of its own accord.
At least I’m not alone.
At least someone knows where I am.
Even if they’re just as trapped as I am.
At least if they’re about to kill me, Emmett can be the last thing I see before my life ends.
That small amount of comfort allows me to rest against the side of the van, conserving my strength for whatever awaits us on the other side of this drive.