Page 188 of Savage Bosses

“I’m glad we’re getting this chance to get to know each other better,” she said. “It looks like you’re going to be here longer than your contract by the way Kent looks at you.”

I shrugged, feeling uncomfortable with the topic she chose to discuss. “I haven’t made any long-term plans. My company is based in D.C. and so are many of my clients.”

“Well, people make long-distance relationships work all the time. I’m sure you and Kent will make it work.”

While I followed the GPS directions, Carol kept the conversation going. When we approached a stoplight, I realized I’d driven into a sparsely populated area.

“Are you sure you put in the right address?” I asked.

Carol peered out the window and windshield. “Yes, this looks like the right spot. No one will think to look for you out here until it’s too late.”

“What do you mean?” I swung my head to face her.

At that moment, she pressed something against my neck. Jolts of electricity ran through my body, causing my muscles to seize.

“You ruined everything. Do you know how many years I’ve tried to get Kent’s attention? I finally had a chance when he stopped sleeping around. Then you showed up, and you’re nothing like his type. You’re arrogant, Black, and fat. How could he choose you when I was available?” Carol shouted while continuing to press the Taser against me.

Her voice faded, as did her face. With no control of my limbs, I couldn’t push her away or call out for help. Too late, I wished I’d taken Kent up on his offer of a bodyguard. As a tear slipped down my face and hope seemed to dwindle, I prayed Kent wouldn’t punish himself for my mistake.

CHAPTER 14

Kent

“H

ey, Kent. If you don’t need anything else, I’m headed out,” Omar said from the door.

I checked the time. “Have you heard from Madison since she went to meet Carol?”

Although Madison said she would return before I left, she hadn’t. Neither had she called to let me know she would be late. The sense of unease I had when she spoke to Carol on the phone earlier doubled.

“No, I haven’t spoken to her since after lunch. Is there a problem?” Omar entered the office, concern writ on his face to mirror mine.

“She should have returned by now.” I pulled up the app for the tracker Madison always wore. A steady light showed her at a railroad crossing.

No movement could have meant a freight train was passing, but if she went out for drinks, why was she in that area of Douglas? It was known for high crime, and I couldn’t imagine a bar Madison or Carol would know about there.

I dialed Madison’s number, but it went to voicemail without ringing. Already on edge, her lack of response drove me to act. “Omar, cancel my meeting and call the police. Tell them to meet me at the train tracks by Henderson Crossing. Madison’s in danger.”

I rushed to the elevator; the phone pressed to my ear as I tried Madison’s number repeatedly. Although I raised the alarm, I couldn’t contemplate her being in a serial killer’s clutches. She had to be okay.

We were such a new couple, and I hadn’t had enough opportunities to spoil her or prove to her I could be the man she needed by her side. I had yet to proclaim to the world that we were together. Then there was gaining her parents’ acceptance, telling Ife, and so many more things on the list of things we had to do before we could truly enjoy each other.

Now was not the time to imagine Madison scared or worse. I would find her, and she would be safe. Despite my vehement hope, despair batted at me every second of the ride to the railroad crossing. The light telling me Madison’s location hadn’t budged, but I didn’t know if that was a blessing or a cruel joke.

I broke every speed limit to make it to my little bunny. I needed to see her in her velour sweatsuit again. When I got to her, she was never leaving my arms, even if it meant I carried her wherever she needed to go.

I almost missed the turnoff. The car fishtailed before I corrected the course and drove down the street leading to Henderson Crossing. The map showing Madison’s location was more detailed because I was approaching her.

When I arrived at the crossing, a black Chevy Suburban that didn’t belong to Madison sat on the tracks. The car was bigger than my S-Class Benz. I didn’t care that what I saw contradicted the app on my phone. The signal said she was in front of me.

In the distance, a horn shattered the quiet panic I’d been existing in. A train was approaching, and I had no way of knowing how far away it was. I ran out of my car to the silhouette on the driver’s side of the SUV on the tracks. My heart stopped at what I saw.

Madison slumped over the steering wheel, unconscious. Her hands were duct-taped together and zip-tied to the steering wheel.

“Madison!” I tugged the door handle, but it was locked. Next, I banged against the window while yelling for her to wake up, but she didn’t move.

I couldn’t lose another woman in a car accident. I couldn’t.

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