Page 10 of The Captive
Or at least it had been in the past.
“Walk toward the car,” came the voice she now recognized as Scar Cheek, or Tango as she’d heard one of the men call him.
Walk toward the car.Right, because she could totallyseethe car.The blindfold was beginning to annoy her.She was tired of being in the dark, literally.
A hand wrenched her arm, nearly ripping it from the socket.She cried out in pain, but no one consoled her.Instead, she was being dragged along again.A chill hung in the air, making goose bumps rise on her bare arms.She remembered the boss man mentioning warm clothing.Were they somewhere north?Up in the mountains?A hysterical laugh bubbled in the back of her throat.For all she knew, they’d flown her to Antarctica.
“Goddamn northern California,” she heard a male voice mumble so quietly they probably didn’t realize she’d heard it.
But she had.Loud and clear.
Northern California!
Okay, so she had a location.An ironic one, seeing as she’d spent the past couple of weeks fighting the urge to come back to the States.Now she was here, and her family probably had no clue.Unless her captors had contacted them already.Just as she’d deduced Deacon was one of the good guys, she also knew exactly why she was here.
Money.
Story of her life, wasn’t it?She was Lana Kelley, the youngest child of two incredibly rich parents, not to mention a wealthy uncle.These men obviously wanted to squeeze some cash out of her parents, or maybe Uncle Donald.There was no other reason why she’d be kidnapped, and this was just another example of how money drove people to such incredible lengths.Evillengths.
Lana drew in a wobbly breath as someone shoved her into the backseat of another vehicle.She wanted to speak, to assure these men that whatever they wanted, her family would give them, but she was afraid.Frenchie, the boss man who’d met them at the airfield, had made it clear what would happen if she gave him any trouble.So she held her tongue.They would make their demands known soon, and she knew once her family learned of her disappearance, they would move heaven and earth to find her.
“Did you get the clothes I asked for?”came Frenchie’s muffled voice.
A baritone voice recited an answer.“Sweaters, jeans, parka, wool socks.Got it all, boss.”
“Good.”
The sound of an engine roaring to life filled Lana’sears, and then the vehicle began to move.This car ride was bumpier than the one in Milan.Either the road was riddled with potholes, or they were venturing into rough terrain.Definitely the mountains, if they truly were in northern California.
Lana spent the ride cataloging the voices and faces she’d come across, trying to figure out how many people were involved in this kidnapping.Deacon, she knew.Tango and Cold Eyes had been on the train.Frenchie and someone named Echo at the airstrip.The pilot, Kilo or Keemo—she hadn’t been able to make out the name.And now Baritone.That added up to seven men.
Eight, she amended, when the car came to a sharp halt what seemed like hours later.One last voice had joined the mix as she was thrust from the car by her armpits.Eight men had conspired to take her by force and whisk her to another country.Well, only seven, perhaps, if her suspicions about Deacon proved correct.
A hand suddenly touched the side of her head.“Bite me and I’ll tear your throat out,” came the voice she now recognized as Echo’s.
He was undoing her blindfold, to her instant relief.
“She won’t bite,” she heard Cold Eyes remark, a smirk in his voice.“This one’s a pussycat.”
Pussycat, her butt!Just wait until she got the chance to escape.She might look small and fragile, but Lana had been trained in self-defense since the age of twelve.Her older brothers had made sure of it, in case she ever found herself in a position where she needed to protect herself.
Sort of like this one.
The blindfold came loose and Lana blinked a few times, letting her eyes adjust to the sudden burst of light.Italy was nine hours ahead of California, and they’d left Milanat 6:00 a.m….Lana quickly did the math.It must be nine in the morning now, here in California.
She examined her surroundings, as well as the faces of the men responsible for taking her against her will.She’d been right—they were in the mountains.The car had brought them to a rocky clearing, barren save for the yellowing grass.Dylan had mentioned that a drought had been plaguing the northern part of the state, and the dying grass showed the strain of that.Several yards away stood a single-story cabin, the size of a modest bungalow.Made of dark weathered logs, the cabin boasted a paint-chipped green door and two boarded-up windows.In the distance the mountains loomed, majestic peaks standing proud against a cloudless, clear-blue backdrop.The scenery would almost be beautiful, if she weren’t in such an ugly situation.
She glanced at her kidnappers, already familiar with Deacon, Tango and Cold Eyes.The other five were interchangeable—big, bulky men in heavy sweaters and warm pants, weapons strapped all over their muscular bodies.She focused on Frenchie, who was easy to pick out of the crowd by the constant orders he barked out at everyone.Some of the men began carrying gear into the cabin, while others were ordered to “secure the perimeter.”Lana stared at Frenchie, memorizing every last feature.
He wasn’t unattractive, but not handsome, either.His features were too sharp, too feral, and though he wasn’t as bulky as some of the others, his tall, wiry frame radiated strength.And danger.Oh, yeah, this man was extremely dangerous.
Frenchie caught her staring, and scowled in her direction.Then he turned his head and looked around at the other men, as if gauging his options.Lana’s heart leaped when Frenchie nodded at Deacon and said, “Get her inside.Back room.”
“Yes, sir,” Deacon mumbled.
She was being manhandled again, but this time she didn’t protest.Finally she would be alone with Deacon.Finally she could get some damn answers.
Deacon’s large hand was warm on her bare arm.He towered over her as they walked toward the narrow front door of the cabin.Her traitorous eyes couldn’t help staring at his incredible body, the snug fit of his trousers.Even now, while caught up in the most terrifying situation, she was aware of his innate sexiness, his primal virility.
