Page 56 of The Forbidden

At the distillery, I enter through the same door I brought Kat through a few days ago, a different security guard meeting us and waving us on. Ethan follows me through the mash house portion of the plant, the sweet, cereal-like aroma washing over me. Ethan eyes the large grain mills and mash tuns where we mill the corn, rye and barley down into grist before mixing it with water. It goes into the tuns to convert the starches into fermentable sugar, and from there, it goes to an annexed building and into huge fermentation tanks.

We don’t go that way though, instead exiting out the back of the mash house and walking across the campus. We pass the distillation units and finally approach the aging plant which houses row upon row of charred oak barrels, stacked ten high on shelves. This building is different from the others in that in addition to requiring a key to get in, it requires a passcode. These barrels are the epicenter of our business and the most valuable part of the plant, so they are protected with the highest security.

I punch in the code and we enter, moving down the center aisle of the long brick building with concrete flooring. At the end is another door with another security panel that requires a different passcode, this one known only to me and my Uncle Terrance. My father used to have it but I changed it the day he was ousted.

I press in the nine digits that unlock the door and glance at Ethan watching with interest. The door opens to an anteroom that has a table with two leather chairs to sit in but what causes Ethan’s eyes to bug out is the massive steel door before him. It’s as large as those used in bank vaults and just as secure. It requires my thumbprint to unlock and then I spin the large wheel to slide the bolt free. I pull the heavy door open and flip on the light.

“Whoa,” Ethan says as he takes in the custom-built wooden shelves that hold a variety of steel lockboxes. On one side of the room is a large bookcase stacked with leather-bound journals, records of all the bourbon production from the time our doors first opened in 1849. Other boxes hold important documents regarding the Mardraggon empire from land grants, trust agreements, contracts for sale and even some prenup agreements that were used down the generations. There are even some old diaries and letters, all perfectly preserved as this room is temperature and humidity controlled.

None of that interests me now because it’s the case of 1921 Shadow Reserve I’m after. It’s on its own shelf along with a handful of other rare bourbons. While the Shadow Reserve is our oldest, it’s not the only one worth money. However, I’d give up every single case right now to get Kat back because it suddenly seems silly to have such things sitting in here accumulating age with no enjoyment.

I snag the case off the shelf and turn to Ethan. “Let’s go.”

He hasn’t said a word since we set foot on the property and I see a million questions in his eyes. I can tell he’s interested in the plant, the processes and all the secrets this room holds, but now isn’t the time.

We have more important things to do.

CHAPTER 22

Kat

I have no clue how much time has passed and while I expected the cruel man named Bellamy to fuck around with me, he’s been strangely quiet. I can still feel his ominous presence though, and every once in a while, he leaves the small office we’re in.

I only know this via sound because when the brown-eyed man came back from parking the vehicle, I was blindfolded and zip-tied to the metal chair. While the plastic ties aren’t overly tight, I can’t help but struggle against them. My skin is chafing, so I try to hold still.

I can’t see anything but a thin haze of light at the bottom of the cloth tied around my face, and my cheek throbs from the two backhands I received. I don’t need a mirror to know it’s bruised and swollen because I’ve taken enough falls from horses to know what such abuse does to my body.

Try as I might, I could not get either man to answer my barrage of questions once the blindfold went on. My first one I asked tentatively, afraid I might get hit again. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because we can.” This was from Bellamy, his voice deeper and more gravelly than his partner, his words sneered with contempt. I can only glean he’s a woman hater with the small bit of knowledge I have.

But the other man added, “It’s not for you to worry about. If everything goes according to plan, you should be released soon.”

“If everything goes according to plan?” I echoed. “What does that mean? Why am I involved? What’s this really about? Am I ransom for something, because my parents have money and will give whatever is needed to get me back? If you let me make a call, I’m sure I can speed things up.”

Neither one answered and it made me more desperate. My voice was nearly hysterical. “Please tell me something. Anything. Are you going to hurt me? Is this retaliation because if so, I don’t deserve this.”

Something hard pressed against my head and I knew instantly it was a gun. Bellamy spoke close to my ear, punctuating his words, “Shut. The. Fuck. Up. Or. I. Will. Shoot. You. In. The. Head.”

“Enough,” the other man barked and the gun was gone. It fell silent in the office, but I was scared enough to keep my mouth shut.

Since then, I’ve had time to think of all the good things waiting for me in my life. My family, my horses, my sweet little Sylvie.

Gabe.

I wonder what he thinks that I never showed up to his place tonight. There’s a part of me that worries he’ll take it as a blowoff and this tenuous relationship we’ve tried to reestablish will be shot all to hell. He’ll learn differently once he finds out I’ve been kidnapped.

More than likely, Gabe is going to be worried. I’m assuming my phone is still back in Lexington near my vehicle where I dropped it. I expect he’s probably tried calling but has enough time passed that he’d call the police? Would he potentially call my parents or Ethan? If he did that, it would expose our relationship and that’s not something I want.

But I don’t want to be kidnapped either. I don’t want the threat of rape or death hanging over my head because it’s done nothing but cause a constant roll of nausea in my belly and heart-pounding fear in my chest. I think I’d gladly take Gabe exposing our relationship if it meant the police will be storming in here to rescue me.

Except… how will they know where I am? I have no clue why I’m even here because my captors have frozen me out.

I mull over their reluctance to talk or show me their faces, and the best I can figure out is that they have no intention of being caught. They are limiting my knowledge and the more they keep secret from me, the more hopeful I am that I’ll come out of this alive.

The door rasps open and I listen intently to the scuff of shoes across concrete flooring and then the closing door. My ears strain to pick up anything and I believe I’m alone.

Not that it is of import, because I’ve dutifully followed the order that I keep my mouth shut. I try to roll my shoulder, aching from the position I’ve been sitting in. I twist my wrists slightly and wince at the rub of the zip ties against my tender skin. I stretch out one leg, then the other, and try to shift on the hard seat because my ass hurts. My cheek hasn’t stopped throbbing and the pain has overtaken my entire head in the mother of all headaches. The intermittent bouts of tears I’ve shed haven’t helped at all and my throat is so parched, I’d kill for a sip of water.

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