Page 18 of No Promises, No Lies

When we reach an area of the park containing several large garages, he pulls up close to one, killing the engine.

The sudden silence is unnerving. I look around. We’re in the back-end of the park, thick woods border the darkened lot.

Aidan twists in his seat and I realize I’m still holding on to him. I release my grip as if burned. My wrist imprisoned by the cuff rebounds—still attached to his belt.

He fiddles with something and my wrist falls free. The metal cuff is still around my wrist, but it is no longer connected tohim.

He takes off his helmet, hanging it on the handle bar before eyeing me over his shoulder. “Don’t run,” he warns before dropping hold of the cuff entirely. I feel the weight of the metal catch and stare at the dangling chain for a second before I put one of my plans into action.

We’re still on the bike, so I use both my hands to vault myself off the back of it. I land on unsteady knees, weak from adrenaline—or the ride—I’m not sure.

I take off running. The sheepskin boots are less than ideal getaway footwear, but I keep on my toes. Wrenching the helmet off my head because it’s only slowing me down. I don’t even look before I whip the thing back the way I came. The resounding grunt confirms I’ve hit my intended target.

I smile; a small victory.Score one for Rory.

Uncertain about the woods, I run the length of the building, sprinting for the corner. I’m fast and in shape; I could outrun him. Not hearing any sounds of pursuit behind me, I chance a glance over my shoulder, finding Aidan exactly where I left him.

He’s not even bothering to chase me.My eyes instantly drop to his hands, checking for a gun, confused when I see them empty right before I slam intosomething—hard.

The crash is so hard it sends me flying backwards, but strong hands wrap around both of my wrists, preventing an embarrassing fall on my ass. Stunned—as I’m pretty certain my brain slammed against my skull—I work to focus on who’s in front of me.

I look up to find another impossibly tall, hulking male. Running into this one, built even thicker than Aidan, was like crashing into a truck.

Like a cartoon character, my feet race underneath me, failing to find traction as I squirm, trying to escape his hold. Desperate to get away. The worst is when this mammoth of a man beams down at me with the biggest shit-eating grin on his face.

He’s probably one of those sociopaths who gets off on the long hours of mafia torture.

I wriggle more urgently but get nowhere; his smile only grows wider. “Where ya going, pretty?”

Terror. Pure, unadulteratedterror.

He takes advantage of my full-body freeze to lift me—like I weigh nothing at all—hefting me up and over his shoulder. His arm closes like a vice around the backs of my legs and with no shame, I’m screaming now. He walks forward, ignoring me as I pound my fists into his back, shouting for help—for anybody—please!

His level of unconcerned—concerns me.

“This belong to you?” The man returns me to where Aidan, waits patiently. As if he has all night, he leans patiently against his bike, watching us with his arms folded across his chest.

“Get her inside,” he huffs and stalks over to the nearest garage door, throwing it open.

I fight with renewed passion.

No secondary location. That’s what they always preach in all those self-defense classes I took. And now here I am, about to disappear into one.

I scream again, but it’s cut off short when Aidan comes into my sights, waiting at the opening of the garage as we pass him. We make eye contact and he shakes his head with mild irritation. “That’s really fucking annoying. No one can hear you, so you might as well knock it off.”

I’m carried inside and the heavy metal door shuts behind us.

I stop screaming—but only because we’re inside—not because he told me to. When the bottom edge of the door meets the pavement, I deflate.

“The lockers?” The guy carrying me asks Aidan, who nods in confirmation to the question but doesn’t follow as I’m carried further into what appears to be a rather large abandoned mill. I stare back at him until he turns away.

Just as quickly, he stops on a dime and jerks back toward us, like he’s forgotten something. “Oh, and Liam?”

“Ya?” The hulking mass under me responds, slowing so he can hear Aidan’s response.

“She can keep her clothes.” The shadow of a grin on the bastard’s face was full of derision. “For now.”

I stiffen so hard I nearly slide down Liam’s chest. He lets out a dark laugh at either Aidan’s words or my reaction, shaking his head as he trots back off with me, “You get all the fun,” he laments, before we disappear down a long hallway.

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