Page 105 of Extracted

“Please,” she cried to Shane. “I’m not who they think I am.” She tugged on the restraints, leaning forward in her chair.

Shane shifted his weight from one foot to the other as Silas pulled him closer with his arm around his shoulders.

“Shane needs a little initiation. Don’t you think, Adam?”

Shane swiveled his head and staggered a few inches away from Silas. “What? No. I was just about to go in and see the guys.”

“Nonsense.” Silas dug into his pocket and slapped a lighter in Shane’s hand. “You can do the honors of setting the bitch ablaze.” He signaled to Adam. “Let’s go.”

Adam grabbed the jerry can and unscrewed the nozzle, turning the plastic piece over so the spout faced the outside.

All the warmth drained from Gemma’s face. Blood juiced through her brain, blasting against her vessels and making her face throb.

Vomit rushed to the back of her throat again. She turned and emptied her stomach of the foul liquid, and it splattered on the concrete. One of the men let out a sound of disgust.

“Hurry up. Enough with the drama.” Silas’s cold command set Adam in motion.

He stepped forward, and Gemma turned her head as fuel splashed over the front of her dress with an icy zing. He poured the liquid over her shoulders, arms, and legs, and the stench of gasoline rushed into her nose and mouth, burning her throat and nostrils.

She choked and sputtered. Her body trembled violently. Her teeth chattered, shaking her cheeks and jaw. Her throat closed as sobs racked her.

Adam backed away, and sheer dread pulled at Gemma’s consciousness. Her brain flickered. Darkness clouded around her as the men backed up, creating a trail of gasoline from her body to them.

* * *

Dallas balanced his weight on the balls of his feet as he skirted the overgrown grass surrounding the property. They’d parked the car down a narrow gravel road in case another of Silas’s men arrived.

The rustling of grass behind him assured him Cole was close. The driveway was a good hundred feet up ahead.

A woman’s scream split the air.

Gemma.

He launched forward. Cole’s hand snatched his shoulder, drawing him back before he could break into a run.

Dallas whirled around and shoved Cole’s hand away. “It’s her!”

His brother held up his palm as if placating a horse. “No shit. You need to calm the fuck down or you’re going to get her killed.”

He dragged a hand through his hair. “I can’t.”

Cole’s face turned hard. “You still need to use your fucking head.” He jabbed his own temple with his forefinger. “I’ll go through the grass. You find a way around the house. If you need me sooner, fire a shot.”

Dallas gave a sharp nod and Cole ducked into the overgrowth.

He brought the gun to hover near his chest as he broke into a jog around the perimeter of the property.

She’s still alive.

There was no way he’d be too late now. No way god would take her from him when he was so fucking close. He reached the driveway. Sweat torched the neckline of his shirt. The SUV they’d followed was in the driveway, parked closer to the single detached garage. The house was as Lorenzo had described—a shitty-looking green color and more than a little run-down. Lights were on inside.

The sensor light screwed into the side of the house bathed part of the driveway in a yellow glow.

Voices carried on the night air, and a jovial, condescending laugh struck a nerve of familiarity.

Silas.

Somehow the fucker had survived. Not for long.

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