Page 216 of Tangled in Knots

Sometimes it’s difficult to stay awake when you’re in a very comfortable place. The couch is a big fluffy bed, and if this was any other time, I’d feel badly about not allowing her to sleep. There’s a large blanket that’s fallen to the floor, and Damon grimaces as he picks it up.

The little rabbit is about to become a blanket burrito. Moving quickly, Damon has her tightly rolled in the material, and we’re leaving as fast as we broke in. It’s not until we’re outside that Adira begins to struggle, finally roused from her sleep.

Pushing my hand into the small hole at the top of the rolled up material, I shove my fingers into her mouth, making her cough.

“Shh, little rabbit,” I croon almost soundlessly. “Settle.”

Once at the wall, Jed whistles, nodding when Morris gives him an answering pattern in return.

Pulling away my hand, Damon tosses the little rabbit over the wall, her strangled scream the only sound as we leap over after her.

Morris holds her tightly against his body as she continues to fight him, as we were worried someone may be watching on Dad’s payroll.

We still don’t fucking have the drop-off location, as Rock is being a twunt about it. I’m about tired of his crazy ass.

Damon walks quickly, ready as Morris snaps the blanket, which forces Adira to roll out of it into the truck of the SUV. I make quick work of gagging her mouth with duct tape, the request last minute and non-negotiable from my father, while Damon ties her hands and feet together behind her back.

Pulling a knife in such a way that no one except we can see, Damon slips the blade outward between her hands, making sure she can feel the handle and hold it with her thumbs.

It's sharp enough to cut through the rope with a little work or defend herself. This time, we won’t leave her defenseless.

Adira stops fighting, because there’s no point now, and she knows what comes next. Morris wraps her in the blanket again because she’s wearing a thin T-shirt and pajama pants in an effort to keep her warm.

It’s also how Rock expects her deposited at his door. Asshole.

Leaving Adira, we close the door and get into the vehicle.

“I’m texting Dad now,” Jed growls, angry about being dicked around.

Blowing out a breath after he texts, he shows us what the message says.

Dad:

Drive toward Funkley, Minnesota. I’ll give you the exact address once you’re nearby.

“Fucker,” I mutter as Jed responds to him. Morris puts the town into his GPS while Damon sends out a text to the group message on the special phone we have for tonight.

Damon:

Drive toward Funkley. No more information until we’re closer.

A thumbs up is sent in response, and Morris begins to drive.

“I’m sorry about the tape, little rabbit,” I mutter, knowing she can hear me. “Rock’s orders.”

A grunt shows she can hear me and I sigh.

Half an hour later, the sign of Funkley rises to greet us as we drive past it. Jed messages him to explain where we are and Rock texts my brother back immediately.

“Turn right in two miles,” Jed reads from the text.

Damon messages the group message quickly, his fingers flying over the screen. I can’t see any headlights behind us, I just have to hope they’re nearby. If not, we’ll figure it out.

We have to.

For Adira.

Rock leads us along twisted roads, and for the next ten minutes, I begin to worry that we’re lost.

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