Page 39 of Second Chance for Mr. Alden

I shuffled back until I bumped into one of the large topiaries framing the door.

Before the guards could draw their weapons, a crackling sound filled the air. Their bodies tensed and convulsed as they dropped to the ground like two felled trees. Wires led from the probes in their chests to a bright yellow, gun-looking thing in each masked man’s hand.

My eyes widened, adrenaline rushed through me, and my heart threatened to beat out of my chest.

While they disarmed the guards, I grabbed a handful of skirt in each hand, and turned to run in the opposite direction.

I hadn’t made it two feet when a big, meaty hand clamped onto my upper arm.

“Let go of me,” I shouted as I twisted and yanked against the strength of his grip.

Tucking one of the guard’s guns in his hip, his partner hurried over and grabbed my other arm and twisted it behind my back.

“Ouch, asshole,” I hissed as I speared him with my meanest look.

They were both big and with hands like unbreakable manacles. Cursing under their breath, they tightened their hold and dragged me toward the truck.

Where was Alden? He should’ve been back by now.

“Alden! Help me!” I kicked and screamed his name. One shoe flew beneath the truck, the other landed in a nearby row of hedges.

“Shut the fuck up.” The guy on my left gave me a hard shake that nearly rattled my teeth from my skull.

My breathing became erratic, and I began to hyperventilate. I couldn’t let that happen. One after the other, I forced a deep breath in through my nose and out through my mouth.

I could not let them put me in that truck.

A meme I saw recently floated through my mind, something about the more ice cream you eat the more you weigh, and the more you weigh the harder you are to kidnap. Well, I was about to put that theory to the test.

I let my body go limp, giving them all of my weight, which forced them to change their grip. I took advantage, twisted my arms, and miraculously broke free. Two steps later, my skirt wrapped around my legs and tripped me. First my knees and then my chest slammed into the cement. Hard. All the air exploded from my lungs, and I worked to suck in a breath.

“Fucking shit.” I coughed as I flattened my hands on the ground, bent my elbows, and began to press myself up.

“Get. Up. Now.” One man jerked me off the ground by my right arm, and his fingers bit into my skin.

“Let go of me you knuckle-dragging neanderthal,” I growled through clenched teeth. “You’re hurting my arm, asshole, and if you leave even one bruise—” My knees were scraped up pretty badly and I could already feel blood trickling down my leg.

“Get in the fucking truck.” He moved his face close to mine. “Or you’ll have more to worry about than bruises.”

“No, you gross sack of dicks.” The fetid odor of his breath nearly caused me to gag, and I scrunched up my face. “Jesus, do you ever brush your damn teeth?”

“Fucking bitch,” he snarled. His shit-brown eyes glared at me as he raised one massive fist high overhead.

I curled my fingers tight and prepared for the incoming blow. If this asshole was going to hit me, I was going to punch him in the nuts hard enough his grandchildren would feel it.

“No!” The other man yelled, shoved his buddy away, and grabbed my arm. “We were told we can’t hurt her.”

Told? By whom?

“Stop.” One of the guards had managed to push himself to his knees and was trying to stand.

The knuckle-dragging neanderthal lifted the taser and shot the poor guard again. Then turned and grabbed my other arm. “Get in the fucking truck before I forget my orders.”

Both men tightened their punishing grips.

I ground my molars to stifle a gasp. I refused to give them the satisfaction of knowing they were hurting me.

As we got closer to the truck, my eyes flickered to the dark interior. Once I was in there, that was it, I knew I was done.

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