Page 172 of Invisible String
“Rainey, I understand, but at least bring a friend. Or visit Bethany.”
“I need this. Okay. I’ll be fine. I’ll have my phone open.”
Justin sighs again. I can just see the scowl on his face. “Alright.”
“Talk to you later. We need to sit and visit soon.”
We hang up, and I park at the pharmacy to get the pill. Hooking my purse on my shoulder, I step out of my car.
A rough hand clamps over my mouth, silencing any chance of a scream. “Make noise, and I’ll slit your throat, bitch,” he snarls, his voice a menacing growl.
Fear courses through me like ice, but defiance ignites my veins. To hell with them. I thrash with all my strength, kicking wildly and snapping my teeth, desperate to sink them into his flesh. A man emerges from a looming black SUV, his presence as ominous as the vehicle itself. He steps aside with a cold, practiced ease as the brute holding me captive hurls me into the car, the world spinning into chaos around me.
“Let me go.”
Smack.
My head hits the window, and a wet rag covers my mouth as I drift into a dark place.
Drip…drip…drip…drip.
I groan. My head is throbbing. Slowly, I open my eyes. The light flickers from a small window. I try to steady myself, to stand off the floor, but I’m cuffed to a chair.
Drip…drip…drip.
A heavy blanket of anxiety presses down on my chest, making each breath feel labored and shallow. My eyes dart nervously in every direction, seeking familiarity or comfort, but finding none. The room is meticulously tidy, almost unnaturally so, with every surface spotless and every item in its place, creating an eerie sense of sterility. The low ceiling and dim lighting confirm that it’s a basement, the kind where shadows cling to the corners and silence amplifies the pounding of my heart.
Chills crawl on my skin.
A leaking faucet, chairs, and a table are all I see. God, is this where they kill people?
The men threatening Max finally caught me. I yank on the chair over and over. It doesn’t move. Of course, it’s not moving. They wouldn’t make it that easy. It’s cemented to the floor.
Damnit.
Tears sting my eyes. I brush them away quickly. I can’t show weakness.
Keys rattle the door. With every fiber of my being, I try to keep my heart from giving out on me.
A man steps in wearing a crisp black suit. He looks to be in his late twenties or early thirties. Dark as night hair. Gold, clean skin. I would say he’s handsome if he weren’t the villain wanting to kill me.
His lips curve. “Rainey, you’re awake.”
My body trembles, I grip my thighs, holding myself together. The cold concrete floor adds to my shivering.
“Max’s woman… He’s a skilled fighter.”
I say nothing.
“Sorry about the head. I don’t allow my men to hit women. He’s been dealt with.” He must be Daniel.
With my free hand, I tentatively reach up and touch the area where I feel a dampness spreading across my skin. As my fingers come away, I see a smear of crimson staining them. It’s not much, just a thin trickle, but it still sends a jolt of alarm through me. He stands there, his gaze fixed on me with a smug expectation, as if waiting for gratitude for whatever he thinks he’s done.
“Let me go,” I murmur.
He laughs, a cruel, malicious one. “Let you go? Not yet.” His dark eyes trail down my body as I avert my gaze elsewhere. “Or I can make a deal and keep you. I’ve been told I need a wife.”
My head snaps toward him. “Fuck you,” I spit out.
