“Hey, Sere. What are you doing up so early?”
“Well if it isn’t my little dove.”
Ice filled my veins, a shiver wracked my body, so strong it made me drop the coffee pot, the glass shattering at my feet.
“Where’s my sister?” I demanded, my voice trembling with fear.
“Your sister’s fine . . . for now. And she’ll stay that way as long as you do exactly what I tell you. You don’t, she dies. You try to call the cops or that fucking boyfriend of yours, she dies.”
“You can’t do this,” I cried, my whole body beginning to shake. “Your uncle said—”
“You think I give a shit what that old man says?” he barked through the line. “He’s a fucking fossil, on his way out the door, he just hasn’t accepted it yet.”
Tears blurred my vision. Of course this would happen now, right when everything in my life finally started going well. “What do you want me to do?”
“There’s a car waiting outside. I want you to get in it. Time is of the essence, so I suggest you hurry. Oh, and Stella?” I paused after two steps. “Leave your phone behind. My man has already been instructed to search you, and if there’s anything on you that shouldn’t be there, I’ll take your disobedience out on your sister.”
The call disconnected, and I didn’t waste any time. Dropping my phone where I stood, I jumped over the broken glass and started for the front door, stopping only long enough to slide my feet into a pair of my flip-flops resting against the wall in the entryway beside West’s tennis shoes.
Then I bolted out the door so fast I wasn’t sure it latched all the way, all the while, praying to every higher being I’d ever heard of that I could somehow get myself and Serenity out of this mess.
As O’Brien had promised, the man who’d been waiting in the car outside West’s house had patted me down, being a whole hell of a lot more thorough than was necessary. Once he’d finished that, quick as lightning, he’d cuffed my hands behind my back, pulled a bag over my head, and shoved me into the back seat of the black sedan.
At some point, he’d pulled off the road, and I was able to tell through the cheap, thin material of the bag, that we were at a seedy roadside truck stop. He pulled behind the building that was something out of nightmares or horror movies involving chainsaw-wielding psychopaths, and transferred me to a different car. Then we were off again.
I don’t know how long the drive was, but it felt like an eternity and the blink of an eye all at once.
However long it took, it was enough time for my fear to give way and righteous anger to take its place. How dare this asshole. Just when my life was going perfectly, he stepped in and fucked it all up. What right did he have to screw with my sister? With my family? With my own happily ever after?
By the time the car pulled to a stop, I was seething. Sure, fear was still there in the background, but I was pissed, and that emotion burned brighter than anything else.
The big, lumbering jackass who had basically kidnapped me, threw the back door open and reached inside, grabbing my arm with no finesse whatsoever and jerking me out.
I tried not to stumble over rocks and uneven ground as the buffoon shoved me in the direction of what looked like a warehouse. My hands were still cuffed behind my back, so falling would have hurt like a mother. We passed through an industrial steel door and into a big open space full of cars in all stages of disrepair before the bag on my head was ripped off unceremoniously. I was standing in the middle of this jerkoff’s illegal chop shop. Just freaking perfect.
“Ow,” I snapped, looking at the henchman with a murderous glare. “You mind not ripping all my hair out, asshole?”
“Seems you’ve got a bit of a mouth on you.”
It wasn’t the henchman who said that, and when I turned to face the man who’d spoken, I was surprised by what I saw. Grady O’Brien definitely was what I’d been expecting, that was for damn sure.
Up until now, I’d only dealt with his band of musclebound gorillas, so this was the first time I was seeing him up close and personal, and I was not impressed. The man was barely an inch or two taller than I was and couldn’t have weighed more than 130 pounds soaking wet. I clocked him somewhere between his mid-to-late thirties, but he already had an unfortunate hairline that had receded drastically and was trying to hide under a very bad combover.
The suit he was wearing was designer, from the tops of his padded shoulders to his overly-shined loafers, but the money draped over his shrimpy frame did nothing to make him look like a threat. However, the big gun he was holding—clearly overcompensating for a micro-penis, this one—was enough to make me swallow down the bile that was clawing its way up my throat.
“Where’s my sister?” I demanded, trying to melt the sallow skin from his sunken face with nothing more than my eyeballs. “I want to see her.”
He shrugged, the shoulder pads he’d had sewn into his suit jacket in what I guessed was an effort to look broader only made him look ridiculous. “I suppose I can grant you that one request.”
He let out a sharp whistle, and the motherfucker who’d beaten me to a pulp outside The Tap Room stepped out of an office to my right that was made up of cracked and broken dingy glass panels. He pushed a squeaky rolling chair in front of him that contained a very pissed-off looking Serenity. Her wrists were taped to the arms, her ankles were bound together, and there was a strip of duct tape over her mouth, but none of that did anything to shield the fury lashing from her eyes.
“Sere,” I gasped as I started for her at a run. Halfway there, I tripped over a crack in the dirty cement floor and fell to the ground, only having enough time to twist midair so I landed on my side instead of face-planting on the ground. It still hurt like hell, and my ribs were currently cussing me out for the added damage.
“For the love of God, will someone help her to her feet? And go ahead and uncuff her, neither of them are going anywhere,” O’Brien clipped in a bored tone. A second later, I found myself hauled off the ground. The cuffs were unlocked, and I was placed in a chair much like my sister’s.
Ignoring the pain flashing through my body, I rubbed at my wrists, pins and needles shooting through my arms at how they’d been bound behind me. With the feeling slowly returning, I looked back to Serenity and asked, “Are you okay?”
“As you can see, she’s fine.”
I threw a killing look at O’Brien. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to hear that from her.”
He shrugged insolently. “No skin off my nose.” He jerked his chin toward one of his goons to un-gag Serenity. I could only assume he was being so accommodating because he didn’t plan on either of us making it out of here alive. “When you’re done with that, go outside and stand guard. If anyone comes near this building, shoot them in the head.”
A rip filled the air, followed closely by my big sister’s shout of, “Son of a whore in church, that hurt!”
“Are you okay?” I repeated as Henchmen One and Two started for the door I’d just come through.
“I’m fine,” Serenity seethed, “other than the fact this this dickhead had me kidnapped last night at the end of my date. A real date, by the way, not a con. Big Foot out there pistol whipped him and kidnapped me. Now I seriously doubt he’d ever going to call again.”