I didn’t get another chance. The other man moved in and grabbed my arms, wrenching them behind my back as he held me in place.
“She's not part of this,” Godfrey said, struggling against the guy who pushed him toward the car. “Let her go. She won't snitch."
In the center of it all, a single man stood with his arms crossed over his chest. He was taking in the scene while pinching a cigarette between his thumb and index finger. He was the only one not wearing a bandana, as if he didn’t fear being seen, and didn’t care about the consequences. He had an air of authority about him that the others didn't, and everyone seemed to be waiting on his word.
“Boss doesn't like to fuck with women. Just leave her,” another man said.
Huh. Guess even criminals could be chivalrous.
But the word “boss” slithered down my spine.
“We need to get gone,” someone else said. “Johnny Jack’s guys have eyes on them.”
I blinked. So this wasn’t Johnny Jack’s people. Which meant that someone else was kidnapping us. But why?
The authoritative one puffed on his cigarette again before tossing it at his feet and crushing it with his boot. “Bring the girl. We'll let the boss decide. Just don't tie her up and shit. You know how he gets since Rachel,” he said. I debated on using their kindness against them and trying to kick the guy in the balls, but then he said, “If she fights, bind and gag her. Or maybe we’ll take it out on one of these boys,” he said thoughtfully, watching my reaction.
I looked at Rogue, who now had duct tape placed over his mouth. Three men were struggling to hold him back as they hauled him away. He jerked against their strong grips, cursing against the tape covering his lips, and watching me with fiery eyes. But I wasn’t going to give the men any excuse to rough up any of my guys. So with a shaky exhale, I didn’t struggle against the guy behind me still holding my wrists as I made my way towards the SUV.
Once I was in the bench seat in the back, Rogue was shoved inside too, and he immediately pressed up against me protectively, and I felt safer, even though his hands were bound behind his back with zip ties and his mouth was covered. In his eyes, I saw the fear that he'd been trying to avoid since first pushing me away. This was what he'd been trying to protect me from, and here I was, captured anyways. Willingly with them, kidnapped right alongside my best friends.
And I wouldn't have wanted it any other way, because I meant what I said. I was in this with them, come hell or high water.
Chapter Thirty-One
As if an afterthought, one of the men decided to blindfold us once we were well out of Savannah. The further we got from the city, the more my stomach seemed to sink. My hope was a flickering thing, dimming every time the stout man I’d punched breathed down my neck from his spot behind me. His strange fingers were shaky as he covered my eyes with the black blindfold. He smelled like tobacco, and I cringed at his touch. Although there seemed to be some sort of code of ethics about women for this gang, something told me that it didn’t necessarily amount to much. It could simply mean that they wouldn’t torture me before they slit my throat.
We drove for what felt like hours. Each mile that took us further away, I knew that this was it, this was how we were going to die. I had so many questions. I had no idea who this gang was since they weren’t with Johnny Jack’s Macon Mob, so I had no idea what was going on and what this new threat wanted from us.
The only comfort I had as we traveled was the feel of Rogue’s denim pants against my chilled fingers. Throughout the ride, I occasionally stroked my pinky along the seam of his jeans, reassuring him that I was still here. The other guys had been put in the second SUV, and I hated being separated from them.
“How much longer do we have?” I asked, after the glow of daylight that had been filtering through my blindfold disappeared. Even though I had no sense of time, I knew it was nightfall. None of our parents would even know we were missing. That’s what happened when your kids basically raised themselves. We were on our own.
I waited for someone to answer my question, but no one did, which meant that they were ignoring us for the moment. In a burst of bravery or stupidity, I lifted my hand to Rogue’s arm, trailing all the way up to his neck and jaw. I felt for the duct tape on his mouth, and I peeled the edge away slowly, hoping like hell that no one was watching me and that it was dark enough in the car for no one to notice. I’m sure it hurt, pulling away his scruff with it, but I didn’t dare go too fast and make noise. When it was all the way off, my knuckles brushed up against his lips, and he pressed a kiss to my fingers in thanks. I dropped my hand again, balling the duct tape in my fist and letting out a relieved breath.
The car started driving along hard gravel, jostling us as we traveled down the rocks. Every time the road winded, I tilted over, discovering that the man sitting in the third row behind me had his arm hanging over the edge of my seat, so my body pushed against him. I flinched away, scooting as close to Rogue as I could, and the man behind me chuckled. “Shy, huh, sweetheart?”
Rogue tensed beside me and then lifted up his leg and settled it over mine. It was the only hold he could have on me, but it instantly made me feel safer.
But without being able to see or anticipate the turns, I couldn’t stop my upper body from continuing to run into the man’s arm. By the fourth turn, the man rested his hand on my shoulder, purposely holding me and using my movements as an excuse to touch me.
“Guess your code of ethics stops at touching girls without their permission,” I said through gritted teeth, the bite in my tone lacking its usual zing thanks to me feeling so vulnerable.
Beside me, Rogue went deathly still.
“I’ll break every goddamn bone in your hand if you touch her again,” Rogue growled, but the guy just laughed and didn’t remove his hand. I bet he wouldn’t be feeling so cocky if Rogue’s hands were free.
“That’s hard to do when you’re tied up, boy,” the man replied, his breath flowing over my neck as he leaned in over my seat. “You take his tape off, girl? Naughty, naughty. You should be punished for that,” he snickered.
“Logan,” a different voice barked from the front seat. “Ease up on the girl.”
Logan finally backed off, and I fixated on Rogue, putting all of my attention on his strong thigh braced over mine. I rested my head on his shoulder and continued to move my pinky finger over his leg. I had to focus on something, or I’d go crazy with fear. Rogue placed a kiss on the top of my head before tucking me under his chin, trying to soothe me.
Finally, after what felt like forever, the truck came to a stop. The moment the doors opened, the man that kept pushing into me the entire ride disappeared. I let out a shaky sigh of relief, but the reprieve was short lived. Within seconds, I felt Rogue get hauled out, and then a meaty hand landed on my shoulder. I was yanked from the seat, my body flung like a ragdoll into the chilly Georgia air—or at least, I think we were still in Georgia. There was no telling.
I yelped and landed on my ass on the dusty ground, causing sand to billow up around me. I groaned from the soreness in my tailbone, and then yanked the blindfold from my eyes. “You should really watch your step, sweetheart,” Logan said mockingly, before grasping my upper arm and pulling me to a standing position. His terrible body odor made me want to gag. “Did I say you could remove your blindfold?” he asked, this time his voice more of a sneer.