Get out get out get out.
The urgent voice in her head was back again, and she knew she had to escape this place, no matter what, even if she got shot doing it.
Leyla squirmed onto her side and pressed her elbow against the floor mat to prop herself up so she could look out the window. She’d tried to look before, but the Viking guy and another man had been standing just a few feet away. They could have been brothers, or even twins, but one of them was slightly taller. She thought the taller one was the driver, but she’d only gotten a glimpse of the man before the other one shoved her to the floor.
Twisting around, Leyla peered out the tinted window behind her. It was dark, and they were in some kind of windowless garage or warehouse. She sat forward and craned her neck to check out the other side of the room. A narrow band of light came from a door that was slightly ajar.
The taller Viking stood there now, his face lit by the glow of his phone.
Leyla ducked her head down.
He was distracted. Now was her chance. Yes, he was standing only a few feet away, but now might be her only moment. She couldn’t just sit here, waiting for whatever they planned to do to her.
She pulled against the zip ties, desperate to get her hands free. The skin on her wrists was already raw and bleeding, and tears filled her eyes as she used all her might to try and snap the plastic.
No use. Her heart hammered, and she felt another wave of panic coming on.
Think! Don’t panic.
She had to get out of here. Even with a guard standing there, she had to find a way. She couldn’t just sit.
She should have tried to run back at the Beanery, but the sight of that gun had sent her into shock. She’d had the presence of mind to nudge her phone out of her apron pocket and drop it on the ground. Would someone find it? Would they realize it was an SOS? Anyone who knew her knew she never went anywhere without her phone. Siena would figure out that she was missing and call Owen or Joel.
Wouldn’t she?
Or maybe Leyla’s phone was still baking on the sidewalk, and no one was looking for her at all. And even if they were, how would they ever find her here? She didn’t even know where the hell she was.
Leyla’s chest squeezed. She tried to breathe, but the air was hot and stifling, and she felt like a fist was clamped around her heart.
Was this how Amelia felt in her final moments? Had she had time to realize what was happening? Leyla somehow knew, with certainty, that Luc Gagnon was the reason Amelia was dead. Had one of these armed thugs killed her?
Get out get out get out.
She sat forward again and craned her neck to look out the window. Tall Viking was still looking at his phone.
Leyla twisted her body around to reach for the door handle behind her with her bound hands. Slowly, quietly, she pressed the button to unlock it.
Nothing.
She pressed the button again. Again, nothing happened.
Fear gripped her. They must have the child safety locks on. She’d have to squirm into the front seat to get out of here.
A door slammed, and Leyla slumped back onto the floor.
Muffled voices. The Viking was talking to someone. She didn’t know what language they were speaking, but it wasn’t English.
The locks clicked, and she jumped, startled, as the door near her feet swung open.
“Let’s go.”
Two meaty hands reached in and grabbed her ankles. She kicked him, and he whipped his gun out and pointed it at her.
“Watch it, bitch.”
He shoved the gun into the front of his pants. Grabbing her ankles again, he dragged her out. She thought she’d land on the ground, but then another hand clamped around her arm and roughly hauled her up.
“Let’s go. Move.”