Page 32 of Savage Angels

“Kat, I…” She pauses, her gaze locked with mine for a heartbeat before she reaches over and pushes open the passenger door. “I’ll always be watching. I will do everything I can to protect you… always.”

Not wanting her to change her mind, I quickly get out of the car. Whatever crazy thoughts she has running through her head, Stella thinks the guy on the bike is a threat. I glance at him, but he is sitting in traffic, not paying Stella or me much attention.

“Go on. And remember… this was all just a misunderstanding,” Stella urges.

My heart pounds in my chest as Stella gets out of the car, her gun hanging from her hand. I immediately begin to walk backward away from her, scared she’s going to kill me. Instead, she approaches the man on the motorcycle, gun raised.

“Stella, no!” I scream.

The man is too quick, pulling out his weapon and firing before Stella pulls the trigger. The shot rings out like a thunderclap, echoing through the street. Time seems to slow, and I watch in horror as the bullet tears through Stella’s head, blood and gore erupting like a grotesque fountain.

People on the street scatter like frightened birds, and screams fill the air as they run for cover. My scream feels lodged in my throat, a strangled sob of disbelief and pain.

I turn to run, desperate to get away from the nightmare that has unfolded before me, but before I can take more than a few steps, a strong arm wraps around my waist, hauling me off my feet and into a waiting car.

“Let me go!” I scream, thrashing against my captor as he shoves me into the back seat.

“Shut up!” he snarls, speaking in heavily accented English before switching to rapid-fire Japanese.

He gets into the driver’s seat and speeds into traffic. The man has his cell phone to his ear, his words foreign and unintelligible, but the menace in his voice is unmistakable.

My pulse races, and fear claws at my insides like a living thing. I’ve gone from a mad woman to this maniac.

Who the hell is he?

What does he want with me?

“Please,” I whisper, my voice shaking. “Please, let me go. My name is Katarina Saunders. Perhaps you’ve heard of me? I’m in the band The Grinders. My family, my husband, will be looking for me.”

But my captor ignores me, continuing his conversation as if I wasn’t there. I pull on the door handle, but it doesn’t open. My only option for escape is through the man who’s driving. He glances at me in the rearview mirror, ends his call, and lets his cell phone drop onto the passenger seat. The car accelerates through traffic, and he weaves in between cars. If I am going to attack him, I need to do it before he kills us both. He sharply turns the wheel, and we drive down a one-lane road. Instead of buildings, cars, and people, we are surrounded by trees, manicured gardens, and flowers.

The car comes to a sudden halt, jolting me back into the seat. My captor sits there in silence. I glance out the window, my heart pounding as I take in the vast estate before us. He’s stopped in front of a house, its huge white pillars with gold accents towering above us.

“Where are we?” I choke out, fearing the answer.

He ignores me, steps out of the car, and opens my door with a jerk. I hesitate, then reluctantly exit the car, my legs shaky beneath me.

“Kat,” a woman’s voice calls out, and I look up to see a stunning Japanese woman standing on the steps of the opulent house. “Come inside,” she says, her voice firm but gentle. “You must be tired.”

“Who are you? What do you want with me?”

“Questions later,” she replies, her eyes softening. “I am Kiyoko. First, you need to take care of yourself. Shower, change, and then we’ll talk.”

“I need to call my husband.”

Kiyoko waves a hand in the air. “Patience,” her tone is soothing yet authoritative. “You can call Dane soon. But first, you must clean up.”

Whoever she is, she knows Dane as I didn’t tell her his name, and as much as I want to fight her to demand my freedom, I know I don’t have a choice.

Entering her lavish home, my captor closes the door behind us.

Kiyoko leads me along a hallway to a luxurious bathroom, complete with marble floors, gold fixtures, and an enormous tub that seems big enough to swim laps in. A set of fresh clothes lays folded neatly on the vanity, awaiting me.

“Take your time,” Kiyoko instructs, closing the door behind her as she leaves.

Take my time? I think bitterly as I strip off my soiled clothes and step into the shower. How can I take my time when Dane and the kids might be in danger?

The hot water cascades over me, washing away the blood and grime. I do feel a tiny bit of relief. When I’m done, I dress quickly, pulling on the soft cotton shirt and jeans she provided. The door creaks open as I step out of the bathroom, revealing my captor standing guard in the hallway. His expression remains impassive, his hand gesturing for me to walk ahead of him.

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