Page 4 of Stitched Up in You
“Bernadette Crenshaw?” a deep voice says, a little louder this time.
I glance back on the sidewalk to see a big blonde man with his eyebrows pulled down so low I can barely make out the blue of his eyes, standing by a long black limo with the door open and waiting. Wow, am I popular today or freaking what?
From the angry look on his face, it’s obvious he’d been trying to catch my attention while I was lost in my thoughts of the meat patty cake layers I could make for my cat when he’s feeling better.
“Can I help you?” I ask, taking a step back, knowing I can’t possibly be the person this guy is looking for. He could easily double as a bodyguard and doesn’t seem very happy to meet me.
“We need you to come with us,” The man says, matter-of-factly and a sinking sensation fills my gut.
“What for?” I ask dumbly, warning trilling through me as I try to gauge if he means me harm.
Another guy steps out of the passenger side door of the limo, just as big and hulking as the first, who begins to button his expensive suit on his walk over.
“Sorry, I don’t have time today,” I say, and move swiftly around him only to come face to face with the new guy and quickly do a double take.
They look like twin goons for hire.
Eyes growing wide, I scan the streets for Robbie to see if he’s somehow watching and gloating, waiting on these two to grab me. I don’t care how much his mother wants grandbabies; this is so not happening.Did he send these guys to get me?
“Get in the car,” meathead number two says, his sandy brown hair blowing in the wind and tone biting as if I should just follow his edict.
A chill runs through me that has nothing to do with how unreasonably cold this spring has been and everything to do with the fact that I’m pretty sure my cute stalker is now trying to have me kidnapped?! What the hell?
“No, thank you. I’ve got to go get my cat.” My shoulders hunch low as I grip the edges of my blazer jacket together and turn to hustle away, real fear clambering in my heart now. There’s no way I can overpower these guys.
Someone grabs me from behind, and before I can open my mouth to scream, a strong hand is there muffling my mouth.
The cat carrier falls to the ground as I struggle against the big man. I throw my head back with all of my strength but unfortunately meet only air as I’m hoisted up off the ground, arms like bands of steel holding me tight.
I scream again when the world goes sideways as I’m put upside down over a very broad shoulder. “Let me go!” I shout, hammering my fists at his back like my life depends on it. I wail on him, but the guy doesn’t even flinch, even though I know I pack a punch.
My butt meets soft leather, and I scramble for the driver side passenger door the moment I’m free. I tug at the handle again and again, clawing at it to get it open, even as it drives away much faster than I was expecting. “No, no, no.”
I kick at my assailants, and struggle anew when cold metal closes around my wrists. Shrill screams erupt from me as meathead number two holds me still and slaps a piece of tape over my mouth. A burlap bag comes next, enclosing me in darkness as my behind hits the limo floor.
“Stop struggling, and no one will hurt you,” a male says, but I wriggle harder.
My heartbeat hammers in my chest and panic seizes in my sternum, my body shaking with adrenaline as tears pour from my eyes and muffled shrieks begin to erupt from my covered mouth.
“We’ve got her,” I hear someone say, before a sharp blow to the back of my head renders me blissfully unconscious.
Chapter 2
BERNADETTE CRENSHAW
Icome awake, disoriented and confused, the world at an odd angle as I realize I’m upside down. Cool wind blows into my uncovered face when I turn my head, and a sharp hiss leaves my lips when I inadvertently stare up into the blurry visage of the sun.
Ugh. Where am I?
My eyes slit just enough to see a whole lot of asphalt, and a waiting black car and nausea cramps my insides the next second as I attempt to push myself up. A sharp pain slices through my skull at the movement, and I fall back limply onto whoever’s carrying me.
The man’s shoulder digs into my fleshy waist with every step he takes, making me cry out in discomfort when I’m jostled and I get the view of the airplane we’re leaving.
Fear slams into my chest like an off the rails train.
I was on an airplane?!
My nose fills with the acrid smell of jet fuel and exhaust when I stupidly try to breathe in as the guy’s shoes continue to clip across the blacktop, making me ever grateful for the clean air inside the car I’m shoved into next.
