Page 6 of The Mercenary's Guide to Mishaps and Romance

That’s it.

I’m sleeping.

I’ve fallen asleep, and now I’m in some poorly written action flick where the screenwriter didn’t even try hard enough to make it unique.

Maybe it’s like the time I was holding the cap for the needle and the vet I worked under stabbed me with the needle instead of sliding it into the cap. Maybe she’s injected me with something, and I’m currently passed out on the floor as they laugh—because I’m positive they’d just laugh.

Ha.

That’s all this is.

I am just drooling on the floor, dreaming of some weirdly hot Scottish man abducting me. Most people dream of sexy men with accents fucking them, and I dream about them dragging me off on a jet while claiming I’m a murderer.

This is probably because my love life is nonexistent. The last person I romanced was a character in a video game and that was like a fucking year ago.

“You really fucked up, you know that?” Tavish asks as he starts dragging me toward the jet.

Instead of allowing myself to be dragged off, I flip my bound feet up and hook them on the edge of his car’s bumper, prepared to never get on that fucking plane.

A man rushes up and my eyes widen as I realize that maybe… possibly… he’ll save me, but nope, he simply helps Tavish unhook my feet and the two of them tote me off toward the jet like I’m some luggage.

“He sure is a wiggly one,” the man helping says, as though he thinks I’m just going to kick back and lounge here like I’m out for a fun evening stroll!

“This man has somestamina. He’s thrashed around in my trunk for hours. He’s probably quite fit from dragging all the bodies around.”

What fucking bodies?!

Maybe, instead of it being from these “bodies,” it’s from being dragged around by a rottweiler that the owner swears is just being “goofy.” Or from being dragged off by an unruly calf that ispositiveno one is going to look at its wounded leg. But it’s not from literalbodies.

I give one valiant shove and actually end up escaping, only to realize how bad of an idea this was as I fall face down on the tarmac, which fucking hurts when my hands are taped behind my back. But it’s finally a hard surface that I can use to scrape the tape down even just a little.

“Look at him flop,” the other man says, sounding amused.

“Right? I wish I had that much energy,” Tavish comments as he grabs my ankles and starts dragging me, which was not my planat all. Thankfully—is it thankfully?—he doesn’t have far togo before the other guy helps him hoist me up the steps and into the jet.

“Well fuck me, I’m in the wrong profession,” Tavish says as he looks around at the most elite plane I’ve ever seen, making me more than positive I’m asleep. Really deep sleep, too.

It’s not set up like a standard plane with rows, no. Instead, there are a few plush swivel seats with their own tables, and then some couches clearly set up for entertaining. I’m pushed into one of the white swivel seats and sink into the plush comfort.

“You going to tape him down?” the guy asks.

“Nah, what’s he going to do? Flop around some more? I mean, he has nowhere to run,” Tavish says as he slides into a chair across from me and starts swiveling around in it like a child. “Ha. I’m fancy. Look at how fancy I am.”

The other guy shakes his head and goes back down the stairs leading up to the plane before they’re removed and the door is closed.

A beautiful woman comes out and smiles at both of us like I’m not bound and bleeding.

“We’ll be taking off shortly. Let’s get your seat belts on and as soon as we’re in the air, I’ll get you two boys something to drink!”

And off she goes, taking her cheery ass to the front where she will hopefully put on some motherfucking glasses and see that this situationis not normal.

Tavish buckles his seat belt before putting his feet up on the fancy table between us. “I should have brought Jackson. Shown him what real money could buy.”

But… healsodoesn’t own this, so I’m not quite sure what that logic is, which leads me to believe… this man isn’t very smart.

So can I manipulate him?

I tilt my head and rub it against the seat as the plane starts to take off, and that panics me more than anything because not only have I been abducted, but now I don’t know where I’m going. Even if I get free, will I know where to go? How to find help?

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