Page 128 of Stay with Me

Every female in the world was taught to never let a kidnapper take you from whatever location you were originally at. That the risk of fighting back and getting an unexpected hole in your body was far less than allowing yourself to be taken to wherever.

That realization, something I’d learned ages ago, snapped me out of my shock.

I jerked forward, the movement catching my kidnapper off guard. He stumbled, but his grip tightened until I cried out. I twisted back toward him, catching a flash of an unfamiliar face. I opened my mouth to scream louder than I ever screamed in my entire life. I got a small shriek out before the man cursed, yanking on my arm fiercely. My back was suddenly pressed to his front and his hand smacked down on my mouth.

I smelled cigarettes and some kind of antibacterial hand sanitizer, and immediately panic rose as I tried to breathe through my nose, but I realized something important. With one hand on my mouth and his other arm clamped around my waist, that meant he wasn’t holding a gun or weapon unless he had a third arm.

So I bit down on his hand, biting down until I felt the skin pop. My stomach roiled, but I kept biting.

“Shit!” Mo exploded, jerking his hand away. I was free for a second and then spun out about a foot from him and twisted around so I was facing him. I saw him raise his hand and that was the only warning I had.

Pain burst along my jaw and mouth, and I stumbled back. Tiny starbursts exploded in my vision as the ache radiated down my neck.

“What the hell?” the guy in the SUV demanded, and then let out a string of curses.

“The bitch bit me!” Mo shouted back. “I’m fucking bleeding.”

“You fucking pussy. Jesus. Get her in the car and let’s—”

I didn’t hear the rest, because my blood pressure was through the roof, drowning out all sound, and I wheeled around and ran.

The flats I was wearing weren’t really conducive to booking it, but I ignored the pieces of gravel that dug through the thin soles. I ran toward the front of the building, letting out an ear-piercing scream that pitched high as I was slammed into from behind. I toppled forward, cracking my knees on the ground.

An arm circled my waist, hauling me up, and this wasn’t good. This was bad. So bad. Mo spun around, all but carrying me toward the SUV, which now had the driver’s door open.

I struggled like a cat about to be dunked in a bathtub. I was pulling my legs up and moving my arms like windmills while Mo wrestled with me, and my actions slowed him down. The whole time I screamed.

“What the hell?” shouted a voice from behind us.

Hope sprung at the sound of the voice. “Clyde!” I screamed, putting everything into throwing my weight to the side by pushing off the sidewalk with my feet. “Clyde!”

The driver’s door slammed shut and the man holding me cursed in my ear, and then he let go, freaking dropped me. Not that I was complaining, but I fell to the ground on my knees and palms.

“Holy crap,” I gasped, trying to get control of my breathing as I pushed off my hands and looked up to see Clyde’s heavy frame jogging toward me. “Holycrap.”

My hands shook as I raised them and pushed my hair back from my face. I noticed then that there were more people outside, near the corner of the front of Mona’s.

As Clyde reached my side, the SUV tore out of the parking lot, tires spinning and kicking up gravel, pelting the group of people near the front. There was shouting. Someone threw something at the SUV. Glass shattered.

“Calla,” Clyde huffed out. “You okay?”

I was pretty sure I was seconds from having a full-blown freak-out, but other than the pain in my jaw and the aches from hitting the ground, I was alive. “I’m all right.”

“You sure?” he wheezed, and that sound made me forget about what just happened. It was the wrong kind of sound—a sound a human shouldn’t make.

I settled back on my calves, getting ready to stand. “Are you okay, Clyde?”

His head moved in jerky motions, and I wasn’t so sure about that. “I saw you walk ... outside. I didn’t ... recognize the man. I ... wasn’t sure. With everything that’s going on ...”

Hands were suddenly on my shoulders. Jax was there, kneeling down beside me. His face was pale, strained like it had been the day we were almost run over. “What the hell is going on? People are saying someone tried to grab you.”

“Someone did try.” My words sounded weird as I stared at Clyde.

Jax’s hands tightened on my shoulders. “What in the world were you doing out here?”

“I didn’t come out here because I wanted to. The guy wasinside. He told me that if I caused a scene, he’d light up the place,” I said, and my gaze shifted to Clyde. He was looking better. A little pale, but he wasn’t wheezing anymore. “I thought he had a gun.”

“Jesus. Fuck,” muttered Jax. One hand slid around my neck and he tilted my head back. My gaze finally shifted to his, and I sucked in a sharp breath. Fury and concern were etched into his face and then anger won out. “He hit you.”

---