Page 85 of Kidnapped By the Beast
He pulled a gun from under his jacket, the barrel gleaming under the bright lights. But he didn’t point it at her—he pointed it back toward the other room, where Uncle Herbert’s groans drifted faintly through the wall.
“Start stripping or I shoot out your uncle’s knees.”
Ice spread through Lexi’s veins. She couldn’t move, couldn’t think—her heart was hammering against her ribs like it was trying to break free and run away.
This can’t be happening. This isn’t real. It can’t be real.
But she wasn’t waking up. This was no dream—this was hard, cold reality and if she didn’t do what Butcher wanted, her uncle was going to die.
“Okay,” she said, her voice shaking. Her hands trembled as she tugged at the hem of her blouse. “Okay, I’ll do it. Just don’t touch me.”
Butcher smirked, his teeth yellow in the bright light.
“I’ll touch you if I feel like it, girly. Now hurry up. We got customers waiting to see those juicy tits of yours.”
Lexi’s fingers felt numb as she fumbled with the buttons of her blouse. Each one she slid open felt like another piece of herself slipping away.
Please, God, please don’t let him touch me. Please don’t let Uncle Herbert get killed because of me.
Her hands shook so badly she could barely work the slippery plastic buttons. Shame burned her cheeks, hot and humiliating, as the blouse parted and her bra came into view under the harsh glare of the lights.
Oh God, how was she ever going to get out of this?
48
BRANDT
Brandt paced the length of his laboratory, the soles of his boots whispering against the polished metal floor. The hum of the equipment usually soothed him—rows of glass vials glowing with bioluminescent cultures, the steady pulse of monitors charting every data point of his latest trials—but tonight it grated on his nerves.
He was waiting and he hated waiting.
Lexi should have been here by now. He had sent Fights Hard—a Dark Twin Kindred warrior with a steady reputation—to fetch her, telling himself it was because he needed to stay in the lab and finish setting up the equipment. The tubing had to be sterilized, the nutrient tanks calibrated, the collection vials ready. That was the excuse.
But deep inside, he knew the truth.
He was afraid.
Afraid that if he went himself, if he spent too long alone with her, he would break. That he would admit how much he wanted her. How desperately he longed for her—her laugh…her scent…her soft, curvy body in his arms.
He dragged a hand through his hair angrily.
Coward. You’re a coward, Brandt. You send another male to get her because you can’t trust yourself! How fucking sad is that? You’re weak—pathetic.
The door hissed open. Fights Hard stepped inside, his broad frame filling the entryway, his dark eyes gleaming faintly in the lab’s sterile light.
“Well?” Brandt barked, his voice sharp with impatience. “Where is she?”
The Dark Twin shook his head.
“Sorry, Dr. Brandt. She wasn’t there. Her aunt—an older woman—said she’d gone to find her uncle, who was missing. That was an hour ago. She hasn’t come back. I didn’t know where to look for her, so I came back here.”
A terrible weight sank into Brandt’s gut. His heart slammed against his ribs.
“It’s all right,” he said hoarsely. “You can go—I’ll find her myself.”
But where?
He raked his hands through his hair again as Fights Hard left, trying to think. He remembered the way Lexi had told him about her uncle on their trip home—that she had taken the job with him only because he owed money—a huge debt to a dangerous man. What was his name again? Ah yes—the man her uncle owed money to was called “Butcher” which seemed like a bad omen, at least to Brandt.
