Page 81 of Untamed Protector

I hurry back inside as Gabriel shows up at the door, wearing only his jeans, and shouts, “Get in! It’s a trap. You shouldn’t have come out.”

“No, it’s just a dog. There he is.” I point to the little bundle in my arms. Gabriel reaches beside me, wraps his arms around me, and looks around, scanning the area. He taps the phone with one hand and turns off the alarm.

“Run inside the house immediately. It’s an ambush.”

I don’t get what he means, but I make my way to the door.

A sharp crack, followed by a brief whistling and a distant, echoing thud, cuts through the air. I spin around, my heart pounding, desperate to figure out where it came from. Then I see Gabriel, gasping and groaning, clutching his shoulder. Blood wells up between his fingers, staining his shirt. He’s been shot!

The second bullet whistles through the air, its sharp sound cutting through the tense silence, and I stare at him in horror.

“In the house! Now!” he yells as he collapses.

Panic takes over my body, starting in my stomach and spreading fast to my limbs. My knees feel weak, like they’re about to give out. I stumble toward the house, barely able to run, more like crawling. I set the dog down and turn around to check on Gabriel.

Out of nowhere, I get kicked from behind and lose my balance. Then, someone covers my mouth and nose with their hand. A pungent smell fills my nose, and everything goes silent and dark.

I come to my senses later, rattled by the van’s bumps. My head throbs, and everything feels shaky. I’m in a small, closed van, only lit by slivers of light at the edges of the doors. It looks beat up, with a few boxes in the back. Panic surges through me as I realize my hands are tied in front with a tight plastic band. I feel like I might throw up.

Thoughts fly chaotically through my mind, unable to form a logical thread, and I feel overwhelmed with a sense of helplessness. My eyes widen in horror as I realize I’m all alone in this, my dilated pupils absorbing all the surrounding light.

It’s as if I’m trapped in a nightmare I can’t wake up from. My senses are on high alert; every sound is like nails on a chalkboard, every shadow menacing. I scan the cramped interior, on edge for any lurking danger. But the real threat is outside. The van careens wildly, slamming me into the walls at every turn. The jolting motion rouses me, though it also threatens to make me sick. I glance at my hand and see my ring is still there. Gabriel will find me. Unless they’ve killed him. The last time I saw him, he collapsed as bullets started flying from afar.

What if they take my ring? Or search me? What if I lose my only chance of being found? Are they trying to keep me alive or just take me out immediately?

The van stops. I desperately grab the ring with my teeth and stuff it into my mouth. When the door opens, I close my eyes and pretend to have lost consciousness.

“He said we should take her shoes off and check if she has a phone or some GPS tracker on her before we get to the port,” a voice says. So, there’s more than one guy. I don’t recognize Vargas’s voice.

“Let’s go, move it,” I hear another voice. “I can’t leave the car parked here much longer.”

“Maybe we gave her too much. She’s been knocked out for too long,” the first voice says. “I hope she doesn’t kick the bucket. That bodyguard will come after us.”

They know Gabriel; maybe they’ll talk about him, so I know he’s okay. My heart pounds in my chest. They take my shoes and my belt off, checking every seam in my clothes. One man reaches down and searches my bra. My breath catches as his hand lingers, squeezing. They’re pros and know where to look, but they’re still animals with primal instincts. Maybe they’re scared of Gabriel. Maybe that will stop them. I clench my jaw and decide to keep quiet and not fight back, hoping they won’t find my ring.

They finish searching me, slam the door behind them, and the van drives off again. At the next turn, I smack my head hard against the wall and nearly black out.

The car lurches to a stop. I fight to stay awake, my eyelids heavy. A door creaks open, and rough hands grab me, hoisting me up. A few steps later, a loud slam echoes, followed by silence. Heart hammering, I stay put, eyes squeezed shut, head tucked low. Minutes tick by, filled only with my ragged breaths. Finally, I dare to peek. Darkness. A musty smell fills my nose. A faint glow catches my eye in one corner. Sensor lights flicker on the ceiling, like those in a closet, casting brief bursts of illumination before fading again. I test them, giving my arm a small shake. The lights flicker back on, bathing the room in a dim, temporary light.

I stand, blinking in the dimness. This feels like the inside of a container. There’s a large object in the back, covered by a tarp. I pull on it, wincing as the plastic strap digs into my injured wrist—the one Vargas hurt yesterday. Ouch! They tightened it too much. Luckily, my hands are in front. I yank off the tarp, revealing a car that looks just like the sports model I’ve been searching for. The lights flicker off again, plunging me back into darkness. I wave my arms around. Anything to keep those sensors on. It’s hard to see, but reaching right next to the car, I spot the same symbol I saw before—the Celtic knot. Could this be where they’ve been hiding it all along? A container somewhere in the port? Remembering my time at Grain Inc., I try to guess the size of the space. Based on the feel, it seems like one of those big containers, maybe forty feet long, eight feet wide, eight and a half feet high.

I no longer have any doubt that Vargas is fully behind this. I look around and see a table and two chairs next to a wall. Was he coming to visit his car? What a weirdo!

I move to the other side of the car, at the back of the container. Suddenly, I hear a groan as a man faintly gasps when he senses me next to him.

I crawl toward where the noise is coming from. There’s a person curled up on the floor, leaning against the wall. Quickly, I go next to him and spit the ring into my hand so I can talk.

“Are you okay?”

“Lexi? Is that you?” I hear Lucas’s muffled voice. “Lexi, where are we?”

I don’t know what to say. Looking at Lucas, I see a nasty, bleeding bruise blooming on his temple. Quickly, I slip the ring back on my finger, hoping I can hide it if someone walks in. Grabbing a scrap of Gabriel’s shirt, I dab at the blood around Lucas’s eyes. Cradling his head in my lap, I wipe as gently as I can. The stupid light sensor flickers off again. Hunched low, it can’t detect my movement. Suddenly, I remember the chairs a few feet away.

“Can you walk? Are you hurt?”

“I’m not sure. I don’t know what’s happened to me,” Lucas mumbles as his head lolls to the side, and he slumps unconscious. I scoot out from under him and gently pull him toward the table. The sensor light flickers on again, but it’s still dim. I manage to get close to the first chair and try to wake Lucas.

“Come on, Lucas, help me get you up. Can you hear me?”

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