Page 59 of Burning Secrets

She reached for the door handle, but it didn’t move.

“Child locks,” said the man, and she looked at him and it clicked.

Snake tattoo. She’d seen the man at the compound. “You’re with the SOR.”

He turned onto the road parallel to the farm, then skidded to a stop.

What—

He turned to her then.

She tried to dodge him, but he hit her again, this time on her ear, and her head rang. Still, she put up her hands, screaming, as he scrambled over the seat.

He grabbed her neck, pressed her into the seat, and then held her down as he grabbed her hands, zip-tying them behind her back.

Then he tied her legs while she fought to kick him, tears hot on her face as she kept screaming.

He slapped her, but she hardly felt it with the cascade of other pain—and then, somehow, he’d gotten a roll of duct tape. He plastered it against her mouth.

“Shut. Up.”

And he pushed her again into the well behind the seats and got out.

In a moment, the truck started up again.

God, please!

She tried to listen for changes in roadway, guessed they’d landed on pavement, but after an hour, her brain hadn’t a clue where they might be going.

Her face had stopped hurting. And all she could think was…

Crew would find her.

And probably get killed trying to save her.

She closed her eyes. Heard the verse thrumming inside her.God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind.

Yeah, maybe. But right now, fear seemed to be winning, and yes, clouding her mind, running over her with the what-ifs.

She wasn’t stupid. They’d taken her because they wanted Crew.

Tire crunched against dirt, and the truck slowed. Shouting, a gate squealed, and her gut tightened.

Then the truck stopped, the door opened, and hands pulled her out. She stood, her legs wanting to give out on her as she was taken into the compound. A few men moved around, some with weapons, others hauling wood, a couple with dogs, all of them eyeing her.

The man crouched and pulled out a knife. She stiffened, but he broke her leg ties, stood back up.

And then she spotted him, coming out of the main building, wearing a black canvas shirt, a pair of jeans, boots, and a smirk. Scar under his eye, brown hair, beard…

Viper.

He walked over and held out his hand to her captor. “Good job, Jer. Any trouble grabbing her?”

“She got a little mouthy.”

Viper glanced at her, nodded, then walked over, and just like that, ripped the tape from her mouth. She’d already moistened free the area around her lips, but still, the shock made her cry out.

“Go ahead. Scream. No one will hear you.”

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