Page 115 of Trust My Bodyguard

He takes a sharp turn that throws me so off balance I hit his arm. He pushes me back on. “Sit still!”

“I would be able if you weren’t riding like you want to get us both killed.” The snarky response leaves my mouth before I can think it through.

I slap my fist on my mouth and pray that he didn’t hear me over the snowmobile’s motor. Daryl says nothing and finally brings me to a cabin. One of the cabins built on the property in case someone goes missing.

The snowmobile stops, and I fall off. I wrap my arms around myself, shivering from the cold and the bumpy ride. My teeth chatters as I glare at the man who put me in this state.

Daryl doesn’t have a similar problem as he’s clad in a cozy jacket, long trousers, and padded boots. He came well-prepared. He climbs off in one smooth move and trains his gun on me. “Get in.” He points to the house.

I rise on shaky legs and stare him down. “If you’re going to kill me, do it out here. No use ruining the cabin for those who really need it.”

“You stupid bitch!” He gets up in my face. “Get the fuck in or I’ll make your dreams come true. Argue with me and I’ll put a bullet in your brain!”

Despite my brave display, I’m not ready to die yet. I have a lot to live for—Iris, Brody, our friends. My heels click as I climb up the creaky steps and pad into the one-room space. A basic bed, table, chair, and cabinet occupy the area.

But the telephone on the table draws my attention. I glance over my shoulder. Can I make it there before...

“Don’t even think about it.” Daryl is right behind me with the gun pointed at me. “Sit.”

I obey, sitting on the chair.

“You’re a sneaky bitch.” He eyes me. “Don’t think of trying anything stupid.”

“I won’t.”

“You have no options.” He grabs a rope from the cabinet. His eyes are on me as he places the gun down and proceeds cautiously with the rope.

I weigh my options. The man is stronger and faster. Trying anything would only result in me getting badly hurt. Or worse, dead.

I hold still as he drags my hands behind me and ties me to the chair.

“Ow. That hurts.” The ropes dig into my wrists.

“What do you think it’s meant to do?”

“I won’t run.”

“I’ll make sure of it.” He proceeds to my legs and ties me in place. “There.” He steps back and admires his work.

“I have done nothing to you. I don’t deserve this.”

He snatches the gun off the table and presses the muzzle to my cheek. “Look here, missy. You’ve done too much. Much less would have earned you a one-way ticket to hell, but I’m keeping you because you still have your uses. Keep running your mouth and I’ll find another way that will make you indispensable.”

I gulp as the cool metal reminds me of the ever-present threat. “What do you want from me?”

“You’re going to help me get my kids back.” He steps away, looking down at me.

I wheeze out a laugh, the rope around my torso digging in painfully. At least the cold that nearly froze me has thawed. Not that I can draw any comfort from the warmth. “You can’t be serious.”

“I’m serious as can be. So, you better start thinking about how you can make it happen.”

He is serious.

“You don’t even want them. You maltreated them.”

“You know what my own daddy did to me? I’m kind to those little good-for-nothing shits. They should be thanking me.”

“You are deluded.”

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