Page 121 of Traces Of You
She maneuvered into town, parked in the public lot, paid for an hour. She wouldn’t be that long, as she was only looking for flowerpots and soil.
After checking several shops with no luck, she headed the few blocks back to Ford’s truck, cutting down an alley between businesses.
Someone yanked her back the minute she stepped out. “Don’t make a sound and I won’t have to hurt you.”
She froze. Everything that Ford and Clay had taught her escaped her brain. She felt like such a failure over that thought.
“Do you understand? Just nod your head if you do,” the man said. His rancid breath made her gag. Like dead fish washed up from the sewer.
Reenie nodded once, her eyes looking around. There was no one. Why weren’t there people around to see this?
“I’m going to remove my hand, and if you yell, I’ll have to hurt you.”
Something sharp pressed into her side and she realized he had a knife. The dull pain she’d felt more than she cared to count told her he’d just broken skin with that jab. Terrified that he’d do more damage, she bit her tongue not to call out.
He removed his hand slowly, kept his arm locked through hers and steered her back toward the parking lot.
Maybe if she could time it right, she could break free and make a run for it.
She glanced nervously at him, but couldn’t see much of his face. There was a baseball hat on his head, dirty blonde hair sticking out around his ears, a black plug in his ear.
If she couldn’t fight back, she was going to remember every detail about him she could.
She just hoped fear didn’t have her mixing up facts.
The kind of fear that had water dripping down her back, buckets of sweat behind her knees inside her jeans.
She saw Ford’s truck in the distance. This guy was bringing her close enough to it. If she could get her hand in her purse, she’d hit the panic button. That would draw attention to them. If she got stabbed in the side, it might not kill her. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t been cut before.
“Don’t think of it,” the guy said as if he was reading her mind. “I have no problem drawing blood in front of people. I have orders to bring you back, but no one said you had to be in one piece.”
She gulped. There was no way Oliver would do this. He wouldn’t care enough.
But who else could it be?
When he steered them to a van parked off a side street, her opportunity was gone. She was too far away to get Ford’s truck to go off. The hope they’d move closer hadn’t come.
Reenie knew if she got thrown into this vehicle, she’d have no shot at escaping.
As soon as he pulled her to the side of the van, she began to struggle.
You’ve got the tools,she chanted internally. You can do this. Don’t let Ford down.
She stomped on the guy’s foot as Ford taught her. He grunted and tightened his hold on her.
Her elbows were flaying everywhere, but nothing was connecting.
“Cut the shit. Bobby, open the door.”
Oh my God, there is more than one!
Another man came around, opened the door and tried to shove her in by picking her feet up. She was kicking everywhere and landed one on his jaw.
“Motherfucker. I thought he said she was docile.”
That just lit a fire under her ass.
A nasty dirty hand clamped on her mouth again and this time she bit down hard, tasted blood and hoped to hell she didn’t contract some disease from it.
