Page 147 of Swept for Forever
He hoisted me up, threw me over his shoulder without breaking a sweat, and carried me through the trees.
I twisted enough to catch a glimpse of an SUV idling at the edge of the clearing, the exhaust puffing white.
Pickle popped the door open and shoved me inside. I landed hard on the back seat. Up front, Big-Mouth sat behind the wheel. His face was a swollen mess—really, I did that?But more than anything, he looked pissed.
Seconds later, he shifted into drive while Pickle stayed next to me in the back.
I’d made it further than they expected. But for all the shit I’d pulled, it wasn’t far enough.
When we reached the lodge, Pickle dropped me like a piece of gear. He snapped at Big-Mouth near the porch, something about their boss not forgiving him if I got away again. Then he stormed off.
Big-Mouth didn’t say a word. He just grabbed my arm and hauled me back into the basement.
This time, there was a sturdier chair waiting, and just the sight of it made my wrists burn.
“Don’t,” I said, my voice cracking. “Don’t tie me up again.”
But he did.
My arms were forced behind me, the rope pulled tighter than before. My shoulders screamed.
This time, he tied my ankles too.
Then he crouched in front of me, his breath hot and heavy.
“What did your boyfriend find, bitch?”
“I don’t know,” I said, flat and defiant.
He slapped the back of the chair. Hard. The jolt cracked up my spine, but he didn’t hit me. Not yet.
“You’re wasting your time,” I snapped.
“Oh no. I’ve got time,” he sneered. “By now, your boyfriend knows you’re gone. And he’s out there. Looking.”
He smiled. Wide.
“There.Iknow psychology.”
He was right. Domwouldcome.
And if I couldn’t escape, I had to make sure he didn’t walk into this trap alone.
43
DOM
I left the Missoula PD red tape to Boone.
“Colton’s gonna kill me,” he muttered as I turned away.
Yeah, Sheriff Colton, Boone’s boss, who was still laid up at home with a herniated disc, might just rise from the dead to tear Boone a new one. Or I’d beat him to it and send Colton right back to the hospital.
This wasn’t politics. This was Autumn.
And Boone needed to rattle cages.
I didn’t wait. I left him to it and headed straight to Allan Spears’s house.
