Page 12 of Royally Lucky

SUTTON WOKE UP ON Asmall bed reeking of musty, damp earth. From the smell, they must not have had anyone there recently.

She breathed shallowly, hoping it wouldn’t alert anyone she was awake. Lifting her eyelids enough to chance a look around at the rest of the room allowed her to see she was alone. Relief rushed over her in waves. Keeping her eyes shielded with her lashes in case someone watched, Sutton tested her limbs for damage. A rush of happiness flooded her when she noticed all her clothing except her shoes appeared still intact, albeit not as neat and pristine.

She tried to move her hands and feet. They felt heavy, reminding her of when she’d fallen into a lake as a child. The bottom had been mud, making it hard for her to trudge through in her little pink rain boots. Now, lifting her arms and legs, she struggled, hating the weighted feeling as if stuck in sludge. The thought sent panic through her system. A keening cry threatened to burst free. Her heart pounded against her sternum.

Sutton pressed her hand against her chest, sucking in a deep breath, and held it for a long three count, then let it out. She repeated the action several times, working to find a semblance of peace. She needed to keep calm, or whoever kidnapped her would return sooner rather than later.

“Think, girl. What’s the last thing you remember?” she whispered.

After slipping out of the reception, she’d walked through the gate and onto the road. Shit, she hadn’t gone against traffic like normal.

A vehicle stopped right before her, and she had nowhere to go. She’d turned to flee back toward the clubhouse, slipping on loose gravel when an identical SUV came to a rocking stop, boxing her between them. She’d hoped it was someone from the MC who King had ordered to give her a ride. He didn’t like it when others disobeyed him, but she wasn’t one of his brother’s women or the property of the MC. Ayesha wouldn’t have fucked up like her and left without protection.

She scanned both vehicles and the men, trying to remember details. There wasn’t much to memorize. Two Black Suburbans, new models. Short, stocky men, obviously up to no good. She was screwed.

The passenger door opened, drawing her startled gaze. A short, stocky man in a suit moved toward her with predatory grace. His face would’ve been handsome if not for the scowl.

Perhaps if he hadn’t reached inside his jacket and the very noticeable gun didn’t glint in the moonlight, Sutton might not have panicked, but having a big scary gun-wielding man coming at her freaked the fuck out of her.

She shifted to sprint across the road, crying out as her foot slid on loose rocks.“Dammit.”

Sutton caught herself before she could fall on her ass, catching herself on both palms. Rocks bit into her flesh. Tears made it hard to see.

The slight mishap allowed the man in the first car to spring forward and grab her. She tried to roll away from his reach, kicking her legs in front of her prone form.

“Bitch, if you want to die, keep fighting me,” he growled in a slightly accented tone she couldn’t place.

A sharp pain stabbed her in the neck. Her hand came up, covering the spot, and she looked up to see a large man standing behind her, holding a syringe in one hand. He spit something onto the ground, and then her world went topsy-turvy in seconds. One of the men lifted and slung her over their shoulder. Bile filled her mouth, and she worked to swallow as darkness claimed her.

IF ONLY SHE COULD GOback to sleep where dreams of a dark-haired devil held her by the throat while he stared her in the eyes as he rubbed his hardness against her. Oh god, she had to stop having dirty fantasies while being held captive.

Fresh air. That’s what she needed.

She scanned the room, taking deep gulps of oxygen into her lungs. A rustle to the left near the doorway made her whip her head around so fast she nearly toppled over onto the floor.

Shit! Keeping calm was harder than ever. She steeled herself against whatever would be coming through the entrance. More than likely, a brute of a man with threats or more drugs, like the one who’d approached her from behind on the road. Were they going to traffic her for sex or, worse, organs? It wasn’t unheard of.

Seconds turned into minutes.

It became a challenge to hold her eyes open, thinking if she blinked, she’d miss it when they came in. Eyes burning, she allowed herself to release the grip she held on herself. With every inhale and exhale, sanity became a little clearer and less of a spiral into a void. Whatever they’d pumped into her system that seized her control and held her ability to move waned. Her control of each limb was not as weighted.

Progress. The one word filled her with hope. Whoever drugged her hadn’t counted on how quickly her body metabolized drugs. If they’d done their research on her, they’d have known she didn’t react like a normal person to narcotics. Waking up during surgery hadn’t been fun for her or the staff working to remove her appendix. Most seven-year-old little girls don’t wake up when they give the sleepy shit, but she wasn’t normal. They called it anesthesia awareness and said it was rare, with a one-in-a-thousand chance of it happening. A shudder rippled through her when she remembered the time she’d woken up during oral surgery. The doctor had taken out three of the four of her wisdom teeth when she’d felt the first twinge of pain. Her eyes were heavy, yet she’d forced them open, wishing she could go back to oblivion. They’d given her more anesthesia immediately, but good gracious, those moments of awareness were horrid.Her body was not right.

Stay calm. Wait. Escape.

Chapter Six

Andre and Kendrick drove toward LA with the address to one of the properties owned by Vigliaturo. The first rule of any war: know your enemy. His only rule of war: don’t fucking die. Sure, there were plausible deductions. An enemy from some family they’d dealt with—a member of a rival gang who wanted payback for shit. The list goes on and on.

Andre shrugged his shoulders. “What’s the plan?”

Kendrick stared straight ahead. His stillness tended to unnerve others. “We go to this location. The others tackle theirs. Hopefully, one of us will find her.” His face was a blank mask. If anyone were to look at him, they’d see nothing he didn’t want them to.

“You know I can see right through your act. You sit there with your green eyes that usually shoot fire, looking dead. Your arms hang loose as if your muscles are relaxed. Your entire posture screams of boredom. But you and I both know there’s a fire blazing inside of you. If we find her, what are you going to do, Kendrick?” Andre asked, barely taking his eyes from the road.

With a gruff laugh, he rolled his eyes. “Wow, that’s quite the assessment. I’d be freaked out that you’ve been studying me so closely if I didn’t know it was your job.”

A growl rumbled from his friend and bodyguard. His jaw ticked. A body language expert would say Andre was two seconds from strangling Kendrick.

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