Page 48 of The Bratva's Forced Innocent Bride

Stop. I had to stop panicking, or else I’d really die. I had to believe that wasn’t what my kidnappers wanted, or why wouldn’t I have ended up wrapped in a sheet like Pavel?

Oh, God, I couldn’t think about Pavel right now, and he wouldn’t have wanted me to. My desperate mind reeled back to all the times he’d glared at me for not listening right away, like the time I swam too far and then got stubborn, not wanting to come in just because I was being ordered to. During my time with Max, I’d become stronger and fitter than I’d ever been, since I always seemed to have to spend all my available time hunched over a book to keep my grades up.

Free time and being within spitting distance of the Pacific had built up not just my muscles, but my endurance and lung capacity. Endurance was mostly mental, and I needed to keep my mind together right now to help me survive whatever came next. That was easier said than done, but I started counting to keep my mind off the sweat pooling in every crease and flattening my hair to my forehead as it made its way to burn my eyes.

It might also help me keep track of time, which could be useful to know. But I only made it to six hundred, and somethingbefore a bump in the road distracted me and I had to start over. So, that meant we’d been driving for ten minutes or so? It felt much longer than that, like an eternity, and panic started welling up again. It was too hot; I wasn’t going to make it in this trunk much longer. Rubbing my face against the rounded edge of the tire well helped loosen the tape so that it only hung to one side of my face, freeing my mouth so I could breathe more easily.

I either passed out or mercifully just stopped thinking, because I jerked back to realization when the motion of the car stopped completely. The hum of the engine cut and I heard the crunch of boots on gravel heading toward me. Every muscle in my body tensed, preparing to make the fight of my life if they opened the trunk and just gave me the chance. Not that there was much I could do with my hands and feet tied, but the little rest I got had revitalized my spirit. I wasn’t out yet.

“This is a bad idea,” a voice said as there was a soft thump above me.

“Do you know how hot it must be in there?” was the reply.

I knew how hot it was as I was drenched in sweat and my insides felt like they were just shy of being medium rare. I didn’t mistake the concern in his voice for empathy, rather him wanting to deliver the package in good condition. It fortified my waning courage all the same.

The next moment, the trunk popped open and I was blinded by the sunlight streaming in. A cool breeze felt like an angel's kiss, but rough hands jerked at the band around my ankles. A few blinks and my eyesight cleared. Trees surrounded us, along with a lonely stretch of road a few hundred yards away. We were at a rest stop.

I let out a scream that could have rustled the leaves on the trees far above my head, shocking the hell out of both of them asthey realized I managed to get the tape loose. And now my legs were loose, too, somehow. I kicked at the same time I kept up the fire engine screeching, but one of the men only grabbed my ankle in a vice grip and laughed at me.

“No one’s around, you’re just going to wear yourself out.”

I looked around me as they hauled me up and out of the trunk. There was nothing but a squat cement building with two restrooms, a water fountain between the doors, and a vending machine that had seen much better days. The highway was far enough away that no one in the few cars that sped past would even think to glance this way.

With hard shoves, they hustled me toward the bathroom. One still argued that stopping was a stupid idea, while the other one pointed out what bad shape I was in.

“She looks like a stray dog pulled out of a river.” Then they lapsed into Italian and I didn’t understand anything else until we reached the restroom doors. He shoved me toward the ladies' room. “Clean yourself up.”

I whirled around, unsteady on legs that had been cramped into a curled position, and held up my hands behind me, still tightly bound together. With an eye roll, one whipped a knife out of his pocket, making me stumble back and regret my small act of rebellion. He only grabbed my elbow and slashed through the zip ties.

“Five minutes,” he grunted.

I staggered into the dank little room, missing the fresh air from outside as I was surrounded by the fetid rest stop toilet smell. Still, I wasn’t sure if they were going to put new tape on my mouth so I ignored it and kept breathing deeply, wanting to gag as I turned on the tap full blast.

Gulping the warm water that tasted of iron, I then splashed my face and poured a few handfuls over my arms. Whipping my sweat-soaked shirt off, I wiped myself off with wads of toilet paper since there weren’t any paper towels in the rusty dispenser. Just getting rid of some of the stifling, clammy sweat helped to strengthen my resolve, and since I estimated I had a few minutes left, I looked around for a weapon or a way to escape.

The only window was high up and too small for a squirrel to fit through. I tried prying the paper towel dispenser off the wall, but despite its rickety appearance, it was screwed in and refused to budge. The only thing left were the few extra rolls of toilet paper, and I struggled not to sink into defeat. I was cooled off, and a bit calmer; that had to count for something.

Not about to offer myself up on a platter, I stayed in there until one of them whipped open the door, looking pissed off.

“I don’t have a watch,” I mumbled, shrugging.

He had a long scar running down the side of his swarthy face, and I imagined getting my fingernails under the edge and ripping his entire face off as he reached in and yanked me out. I dug in my heels, not wanting to go back in the trunk so badly that tears sprang to my eyes.

The other one, who was shorter but built like a brick building, opened the back door. “You can ride the rest of the way in here and stay cool,” he said.

The scarred one grumbled, not liking the new plan. “If you make the least amount of trouble, you’re going to feel some pain,” he promised, and I believed him.

The other one, who I had mistakenly started thinking of as the nicer one, laughed with sinister glee. “She’s going to endup covered in bruises anyway; the boss might not even notice if we deliver her with a few to start out.”

What the actual fuck? The shaking started again and wouldn’t stop as I landed on the backseat after a jolting shove. I was awake, but surely this must be a nightmare? Were they really taking me to Luca, and was he really going to inflict the kind of pain that these dead-eyed brutes were still laughing about?

I made the mistake of asking. “Is your boss Luca Ross?”

A big hand from the front passenger side smashed my face into the seat. “Talking counts as trouble, so shut up.”

“If you lift your head above the window line, it’s lights out,” the other one promised as he started the car.

“And back in the trunk, no matter how hot it is,” the scarred one warned.

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