Page 38 of Marked

“Yeah. The sedative’s probably already worn off. But he won’t be able to move.” He opens the trunk and there he is.

Fearful eyes land on me as the man looks up at us.

Dread rips through me, and I have to take a step back from the trunk. I need space from this man.

“What’s wrong?” Zack turns to me.

I shake my head.

“I don’t know. He’s…I think I’ve seen him before.” I swallow. “Do you need help with him?” I force myself forward. There can’t be any hiding from what needs to happen. If I’m ever going to find out the truth of what happened to mysister, to find those responsible, I need to be brave. I can’t let the anxiety and fear drown me.

“I got him, but can you open the door?” He hands me a ring of keys from his pocket. “The square one.” He’s already bending into the trunk, grabbing the guy.

The metal door bangs as I yank it up, and it rolls back on the tracks. Inside is a small space. The concrete floor is covered in thick plastic, and there’ a chair in the middle of it. A toolbox sits on a card table.

“This is your place?” I ask him as he passes me, the guy draped over his shoulder.

“In a way.” His voice is strained, but that’s not surprising with the massive man weighing him down.

“In what way?” I draw the garage door back down until it slams shut. A shiver runs up my spine. Pulling my shoulders up to my ears, I try to block out the sound.

There’s a grunt, then plastic rustles in the dark. A light turns on.

Zack’s on me in the next second.

“Are you all right?” He cups my chin and drags my face toward him.

I swallow.

“Yeah. It’s just…” I take a calming breath. “That sound. The garage door. The metal…it hurts.” I tap my temple.

He glances at the man slumped forward in the chair.

“Do you want me to handle this? You can go to the car if you feel more comfortable.”

I shake my head. “No. I’m fine.” I take another deep breath. “It just startled me.”

He searches my face, then gives a short nod. “All right, but if you need me take over, little bird, you tell me.” There’s a warning in his tone that sends warmth coursing through my veins.

My protector.

“I promise.” I tug my chin from his grasp. “Let’s get what we came for.”

I walk behind him as we circle the man slumped in the chair. His arms dangle off to the sides and his chin is buried in his chest.

Zack grabs his hair, yanking his head back so we can see his face better.

Drool slides down his cheek.

“Gross.” He looks half dead the way his face slouches.

“It’s the drug. He’s completely paralyzed from the neck down. But it makes the muscles of the face pretty numb too,” Zack explains.

Faded blue eyes frantically search the space, and us.

“I think he’s scared,” I say, leaning over him a little.

“He should be.” Zack laughs.

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