Page 72 of Savage Guardian

Then he gifted the head to her, like a cat bringing a dead mouse as a prize to its master.

But this wasn’t a cute owner-pet situation, it was a terrifying kidnapper-victim, stalker-object of obsession situation.

Her blood pounding through her body, she sucked in a breath to stop the rising panic. Panic wouldn’t help her, and neither would passing out. She needed to stay calm and think.

Calm? Yeah, right.

How was she supposed to be calm when she’d been held at gunpoint, forced into the trunk of a car, and then dragged, blindfolded, into a secondary location where she had no idea what the hell Teddy was going to do with her? On top of that, she was out of her mind with worry for Hawk.

Was he okay? How hard had Teddy hit him? Had Jenkins or Madden found him yet? Were they on their way to save her?

Groaning at the headache forming behind her eyes, she closed them, took five deep breaths, then opened her eyes again.

Okay. Look around. Figure something out.

The room was a wreck. Graffiti blanketed nearly every flat surface. The old drywall was patchy, with large chunks lying on the floors, like someone kicked it until it fell to pieces. The two windows were shoulder-height, but they were boarded over from the outside, which meant that even if she could get out of the zip-ties, she wasn’t going out the windows. The door was solid steel, and she only knew that from the loud clanging it made when Teddy slammed it behind him. There was no knob on this side of the door. So she wasn’t going out through the door unless Teddy opened it from the other side.

The floors were covered with drywall debris, old beer cans and bottles, crushed cigarette butts, and old food packages. From that alone, she could guess that wherever she was, people used it as a crash pad or party place. Which meant it was far from where people could see or hear their late-night activities. Which meant that even if she screamed, no one would hear her.

Think!

She would not die like this! Not after she’d spent her life hiding, letting bullies win. Not after all the work and sacrifices she’d made as Aoibheal—before her step-sister got her hands on her. She was twenty-four years old and was just now living her life! She was in Vegas. She’d met kickass women. And she’d met Hawk…who’d fucked her, then broke her heart.

But what did that matter now? Just like the bruise on her shoulder, the pain from what Hawk had done to her would ease, fade away, become a memory. If she lived.

The sound of someone messing with the door made her tense, her heart racing.

With the clank of a padlock and the screech of unoiled hinges, the door opened and Teddy popped his head into the room, grinning at her.

How had she been so easily fooled by him? Certainly, he was unobtrusive, mostly only noticed him when he spoke to her. When she was deep in her writing mode, she didn’t even know he was there. And once she left the studio, he never crossed her mind.

That face that he could blend, that he could be forgotten, was why it had been so easy for him to slip into her life. All along, he’d played her—had probably really enjoyed her terror at finding that head that he’d, apparently, hand delivered right to her. Then he waited around, acting like nothing was going on. Then he’d acted horrified, jumping in to provide witness testimony to Benson and SA Tyler. Oh…and then he’d gotten weird, talking about taking her to the hotel room and staying with her.

God, she was such an idiot, remembering how out of place that had been. It should have been a red flag. A warning that something wasn’t right. But she’d been so caught up in the head, and then the knowledge that Hawk was on the way, that she’d brushed that anxiety aside.

Now, she wished she’d paid more attention, that she’d thought to mention it to someone.

Hindsight is a bitch!

“Hey there, Fae,” Teddy said, his grin twisting when she simply glared at him in response. What did he expect—a return smile and a wave?

“I know this isn’t ideal. I had plans to take you somewhere more comfortable, but I couldn’t wait. That fucking biker never should have come to the studio. He wasn’t supposed to figure out that you were Aoibheal. His head was so far up Carrie’s ass, I was surprised he could still breathe.” Fae cringed, and Teddy snickered.

“So, what’s the plan now? You have me here. Now what are you going to do with me?”

He moved closer, his dark eyes drifting over her seated body, a disgusting heat filling his gaze.

“If I had my way, I’d cut off all your clothes and show you how a real man could make you feel. I’d make you feel better than that filthy biker ever could.”

Panic torqued her heart. “H-how did-did y-y-y—”

He snorted. “How did I know you were banging the biker? It’s written all over your face. And—come on—a song about a shattered heart with the titleSeabhag? It’s a little on the nose, don’tcha think?”

Yes, but she would not tell him that.

Pulling on her wrists, she nearly choked on rising tears when the restraints only seemed to tighten. The flesh beneath the constricting plastic rubbing, rubbing, rubbing until it stung like hell.

“Don’t bother with that, girl, it’ll only make you bleed, and that’s messy,” he remarked, as if he hadn’t beheaded a man and put the head in a box.

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