Page 81 of Damaged

“Maybe I need to give my father a call.”

It takes everything in me to not go for this bodyguard’s gun. I’m thinking in a blind rage. The kind that could get me killed or put in prison. To kill Cody here would be the end of both of us. I grit my teeth and put my hand on the door.

“Call your daddy, Cody. Tell him you fucked up.”

I slam the door behind me, half in anger, half for the fact that I’m trying to hide my pounding steps as I break into a sprint.

Sophia

I hate being in the gallery at night. It’s far from the first time I’ve had to do inventory alone after dark.

The space is spooky and empty. Even though it’s modern and not a wood and marble mausoleum. Still, the sheer space and number of rooms leaves a lot to the imagination. And what if some of these Egyptian artifacts are cursed?

Listen to me. I’m being a child. I’ve turned on as many lights as I can, and brightly lit this place isn’t so bad. I punch in the code to the inventory vault and then start my search for the artifacts.

I don’t know where they were put. But I do know where everything else is supposed to be, so the bright pine box sealed with a giant padlock stands out fast. I don’t know where the keys are. Most items in storage aren’t locked up. The twelve-inch concrete walls and double-thick steel door are enough.

This is the problem of James being so new to the auction house. He forgets details like this. I think of texting him to ask where the key to the padlock is, when I remember that Richard usually keeps keys for things in inventory on a set of hidden pegs under his desk.

I turn to go to his office, and I’m just walking out of the inventory room and into the hallway when the fluorescent-lit world suddenly goes dark.

I audibly gasp. I can’t see an inch in front of my face. The power is out. I feel along the wall with my hand. I’m too panicked to pull my phone out right away. I just want to get to where I can see the street through the big glass windows.

I want to see light.

When I get there, I stop in my tracks. The front door is dead ahead. The glowing streetlights tells me something else—this isn’t a wide power outage.

It’s just the gallery.

Suddenly there’s a metal bang behind me and the sound of the delivery door opening. For a fraction of a second, I think it has to do with the sale. James’s buyer must be arriving. But then I realize this power outage can’t be a coincidence.

It’s a robbery.

I sprint for the front door, moving as fast as I can in the dark.

I’m twenty feet from the front door when I hear heavy footsteps behind me and see the ground lit up by flashlight beams.

“Help!” I scream as loud as I can. There are pedestrians on the far side of the street, but their heads don’t turn.

“I got her!” I hear a voice shout behind me.

I reach the door, but I don’t have time to undo the lock before I’m wrapped in a strong grip and tossed violently to the floor.

“Get off me!” I shout.

“Hold fucking still.” I turn to see a man in a green ski mask trying to pin me down.

I kick and punch wildly, and one of my kicks gets my assailant in the chest. He wheezes from having the wind knocked out of him, but I’m no badass this time. What happened in Egypt was more of a lucky fluke.

I’m not escaping.

He holds me tighter, and I hear the tearing suck of duct tape being pulled from its roll. My arms and feet are violently bound.

When he’s done and I can’t move an inch, the man shouts towards the hall. “Is the inventory room unlocked?”

A distant voice yells back. “Yeah! She opened it!”

“Thanks, sweetheart.” He stands, and then the world lurches in pain as he kicks me in the stomach.

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