Chapter 17
Lacey
Cowering as low as I can in the SUV, I hear the gunshots and watch helplessly as Cameron drops to the ground outside. My heart kicks into overdrive and fear clutches my throat. He’s been hit and my only goal is to help him.
Struggling to suck in air, I slide the SOS button on my cell phone on with shaking fingers. Before I can punch in a text to Beckett, the passenger door whips open, and I drop the phone to the floorboard.
“You’re coming with us,” a masked man grunts, dragging me out of the SUV.
I scream, but he stops my yell, pressing cloth over my nose and mouth, then ties it behind my head. I inhale a sweet, slightly fruity odor like nail polish remover and gag. Dizziness assails me, rendering me incapable of putting up a fight, and I grow limp in his powerful grip.
I peer through half-shut eyes as he carries me away from the SUV. I see Cameron on the ground with a line of blood smearing the concrete. The man carrying me kicks Cameron in the side and I don’t hear an answering groan.
Despair washes through me. These men are taking me who knows where and the only protection I had might be dead.
And I never told Cameron how I really feel about him. Because I didn’t know if I could handle his missions whenever he had to go away for weeks on end. But what I really can’t handle is the pain of losing him forever.
Car engines and tires screeching to a halt echo in my ears but the men who’ve captured me shove me into back. One stays with me, zip ties my hands behind my back and then pushes me face down onto the worn, scarred leather seat.
Within seconds we’re peeling out of the garage, and I roll into the back, then pitch forward, and I’m facing the driver’s seat. He’s still wearing the full head covering and mask as is the bastard beside me.
I squirm a little and the guy beside holds me in place to prevent my falling onto the floorboard.
“Don’t try anything stupid,” he orders. “Or you’ll die sooner than later.”
Holy shit. I recognize his voice from the day Adrian got murdered.
Dimple Dude. Ice forms along my spine and clogs my veins.
There’s no way I’m going to live, but for now I’ve got time on my side.
I hope it’s enough for people to find and rescue me.
God. I hope it’s enough time for Cameron if he isn’t…
pain pricks behind my eyes, but I refuse to shed a single tear in front of these jerks.
Fighting to calm myself, I gulp in air but I’m unable to withstand the pungent odor assailing my senses. Nausea and bile crawl into my throat and I swallow them down, gagging.
The dizziness grows stronger, and black spots dance in my vision until finally I surrender to complete darkness.
When I come to, I’m on a dingy mattress in a dark room and my hands are free. A metallic tang clings to the air inside, mixing with the musty scent of damp concrete. My wrists burn from where the zip ties bound them behind my back, my body aching from hours on the craptastic mattress.
Overhead, a single bulb flickers, casting long eerie shadows against the steel beams and rusted shelving. I blink and wipe my eyes to clear the sleep crud from them. Then I notice the faint glimmer of light coming through the crevices surrounding the door opposite me.
My throat is dry, parched. And I can barely make enough saliva to alleviate the thirst. The only good thing about my current situation is that I’m still alive.
And I have to pee. Bad.
I notice a bucket in the corner for exactly that purpose.
Gingerly, I toe off my shoes, crawl to my knees and then grope the wall beside me to stand on legs that are like rubber bands with no snap.
Keeping one hand on the warm wall beside me, I make my way over to the bucket and push it to a corner with one foot.
I hike my skirt and ease my panties down far enough to relieve myself while I hover over the damn bucket, bracing myself on the two walls cornering it.
Just as I’m pulling myself back together, I hear a scraping sound and more light floods the room.
“Good. You’re finally awake,” the Dimple Dude says.
I turn toward the open door, hugging my waist as the now unmasked guy walks toward me. Dread hollows out my lungs and I suck in air to steady nerves.
Dimple Dude isn’t worried about hiding his face which means I’m as good as dead at some point. But I’m not going to give him the satisfaction of showing my fear.
I’m not dead yet.
And I won’t be dead if someone, anyone, Cameron—please be alive—figures out where I am and rescues me first.
“How long was I out?” I rasp.
“Too long. But now that you’re awake, it’s picture time. Gotta prove you’re still alive,” he says as he holds up his cell phone. “Say cheese.”
Thinking fast, I touch the corner of my mouth with my index finger and paste on a fake smile. I hope beyond hope that this small movement will send a signal about the dude’s identity to the people they’re communicating with.
“Why am I here?” I ask, then lick my dry, chapped lips.
“You know why.” Dimple Dude says, then tosses a bottle of water onto the mattress. “My boss wants the USB your friend gave to you. We’ve told them we’ll release you unharmed if they return the USB and release the funds they’ve currently frozen.”
I ignore the bottle for now, refusing to scramble around like I’m desperate even though I am totally, completely freaked out. “I guess that means Julian Vale isn’t in custody.”
“He’s too smart to get caught. But he can’t disappear without money. Once we get what he wants, he’ll go underground, and we’ll get a huge bonus.”
“Won’t they want you to let me go first?”
“That’s already on the chopping block. No USB, no deal.” He sneers. “We can’t lose our only bargaining chip.”
My heart dips and rolls straight down to my toes and the concrete floor sways beneath my feet.
I brace myself on the wall beside me, fighting to stand.
“I doubt you’ll keep me alive after you get what you want,” I say, knowing that the feds aren’t going to cave for one person, me.
I’m insignificant in the overall scheme of the crimes they want to stop Julian Vale and his meatheads from committing again.
“Not likely, but who knows? Maybe we’ll have some fun with you before we put you out of your misery,” he says as he withdraws a cell phone from his back pocket, ignores me to listen to the person on the other end of the call.
“No. We haven’t got the device. You want me to sit on her another night?
” A pause. Then his head jerks back to me.
“They’ve got their proof of life and they’re working with the feds right now.
I’ll handle taking care of her after we get what we want. ”
The call ends, and my stomach hollows out, and a sick feeling crawls into my throat.
This man will kill me no matter what happens.
I’ve been shunted aside before. By my father who created a whole new family and life that didn’t include me or my sister.
Despite the pain of that emotional abandonment, I carved out a decent, happyish life for myself.
I want, need, hope for a second chance.
Until I met Cameron, I didn’t expect to have anyone who’d fight for me, for what I wanted and desired. I want to be that woman for him too.
A partner in every way. Someone who has my back and I have his.
I may never get that second chance.
Unless he’s still alive and he finds me before these assholes commit horrendous crimes against me before they pull the trigger and destroy my lost shot at having it all.