Page 8 of Love Without Control

“Near the bar. I was about to take it to the front desk.”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” I gushed, giving him a hug. “I was so worried.”

“No problemo,” he said easily. “I’m glad I found it. It gave me an excuse to see you again.” Felipe took my hand and linked his fingers with mine as he guided me back up the stairs.

“What are you doing?”

“Walking you back to the resort to make sure you get there safely.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” I assured him, but in reality, I was glad for the company. It was super dark out here.

When we reached the main walkway, Felipe pulled me to a stop beside the palm trees. “I want to. I like you a lot, Evie.”

“I like you too, but I really need to get to—” I stopped when his brown eyes flashed to something behind me. “What are you—”

Something else halted my words that time. A damp rag over my mouth and nose.

“No!” I screamed, but the sound was muffled, and in the next instant, a large arm wrapped around my waist from behind, binding me to a big, flabby body. My eyes met Felipe’s, begging him to do something, to punch whoever was holding me, to save me.

But he didn’t.

A slow smile crept across his lips, and the realization hit me like a ton of bricks.Fuck, I thought as I inhaled the sickly sweet scent of what I assumed was chloroform on the rag. My mind went crazy, knowing I needed to get out of this before I lost consciousness. Managing to lift both my legs and kick out, I felt a sense of satisfaction when one of my bare feet made contact with Felipe’s crotch.

“Chingados!” he cursed, doubling over as I flailed my entire body in an attempt to get loose.

The man holding me chuckled. “Ella es una salvaje. Agarra sus piernas.”

I’d taken several languages in junior high and high school. My French was excellent, my Italian good, and my Spanish passable. But I knew he’d just called me a wild one and told Felipe to grab my legs.

A wild one? Buddy, you have no fucking idea.

One of my arms was pinned by his thick arm, but he couldn’t quite reach the other one, so I used it, reaching up to punch and scratch every inch of his head I could manage. Meanwhile, my legs continued to kick as Felipe—if that was even his name—struggled to grab them.

Both men cursed and grunted, working to contain my wriggling body and one thrashing arm. I kept screaming, hoping someone—anyone—would hear me, but all that was audible was a series of muted squawks. I tried elbowing flabby boy in the gut, but it didn’t seem to faze him, so I reached up and gathered his hair in my hand, feeling a chunk of coarse strands pull free when I yanked with all my might.

“Puta de mierda,” he spit out, tightening his arm around my middle until I was afraid he’d crack my ribs.

After Felipe received a kick to the face—courtesy of my left foot—he finally managed to wrangle my ankles beneath his arms, holding them so tightly against his body it hurt. Despite my fighting, the hand over my mouth and nose was unyielding, and all I could smell was the chemical on that rag.

This is not good. Not good at all.

My body was weakening, but my resolve wasn’t, and I knew I needed to try and stay awake to fight them off. I was in another country, and god only knew what their plans were. I needed to get away, to get help, to…

I attempted to jerk my head back and headbutt the man holding me, but my neck felt like it was made of marshmallows, soft and squishy, so the movement was more of a sluggish loll. Darkness began to settle over my struggling body and frantic mind, weighing me down even as I began floating.

The words the two men spoke sounded soupy and thick to my ears, but I made out Felipe’s directive. “Lleva a la perra al barco.”Get the bitch to the boat.

No. Dear god, please. No.

If they took me away from here, no one would know how to find me. Images flickered through the sludge of my brain… Juliette… my other friends… Auburn… Dad… Monty.

Someone please help me. Don’t let them take me.

That was my final thought before the darkness swallowed me whole.

Chapter 3

Theengineofmyblack Porsche Carrera GT roared as I wheeled around the corner on a darkened, narrow road just north of New York City. I was headed to my father’s house since I’d beensummoned, which irked the fuck out of me.

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