Page 16 of Guardian's Touch

The car takes a wide turn out of nowhere, and I almost roll off the seat. I try to stifle my groan, but it's no use. “Awake back there?” the driver mutters with a laugh. “Welcome back.”

“Now behave yourself and be a good girl,” the passenger adds, “and you'll be just fine. Don't start shit, and there won't be any shit. Got it?”

It's not like I can answer, but I don't think they're looking for an answer anyway. All they want is to make sure I know who's in charge. Right now, I'm too scared to think about fighting.

Earlier, Dane said I'm a smart girl. I need to act like it.

Dane. Oh, my God, what's he going to do when he finds out I'm gone? I'm sure he must know by now. It couldn't have taken him very long to check the house for intruders. Were there anymore in there? What if somebody went in and attacked him after I was gone?

Calm down. You can't afford to get upset. I need to remember that, but it's getting harder and harder. My heart's breaking at the thought of him worrying about me.

What if he does something crazy like killing people over this?

We come to a sudden stop, and this time my body is thrown against the back of the seat while the men laugh viciously. Okay, so maybe I wouldn't mind too much if he killed these two.

“I'll untie your ankles so you can walk,” the driver grunts after he turns off the engine. “But that's it.” All I can do is groan my response, thanks to the gag still in my mouth.

At least they don't try to carry me—the shirt is long, almost to my knees, but I'm naked underneath. Even though the ground is rough and broken and hurts my bare feet, I would still rather go through this than have them touch my body.

Soon it gets colder, no more sunlight on my face. And now I'm walking on a wood floor that’s not exactly smooth but better than broken concrete. “Take her to the first office,” one of the men says to the other, and the one holding my right arm drags me off so fast I stumble, blind and confused.

“Like I said, behave yourself,” the man mutters, and I groan louder than before. I need this thing out of my mouth.

He puts me in a cold, metal chair, then rips the blindfold from my eyes. Even though we're in a pretty dark room, it still takes a second for my vision to adjust.

He's not as old as I would have guessed. He might not even be much older than me. He could be a college student, maybe, but instead he committed a kidnapping today.

And considering the way he's staring at my boobs, he doesn't want to stop there.

I lift my chin, grunting, hoping he gets the message. “No way,” he says with a snicker, narrowing his dark eyes. “You'll just start screaming.”

I shake my head, eyes wide. I really won't scream, either. What's the point? It felt like we drove for ages, and I was unconscious for part of it. We could be in the middle of nowhere. Who's going to hear me?

“Fine. But if you make me regret this, I’ll make you regret it.” He pulls the cloth from my mouth, and I suck in a deep breath before coughing. My throat is so dry, but it’s still an improvement.

“Why are you doing this?” I whisper, then cough again. “Can I have water?”

“No on the water, and none of your business on everything else.” He strides from the small room and closes the door without another word. The room is only lit by what’s slipping in from between the pulled blinds.

But it’s enough for me to get a sense of the layout. There’s a metal desk in one corner, a bunch of papers tacked to a corkboard behind it. Somebody works in this room, and now there’s a kidnapped girl in it.

Earlier this morning, I lost my virginity to the man I love, and now I might die because of whatever he’s involved in.

It’s all too surreal. I don’t know whether to laugh or cry.

Instead of doing either, I get out of the chair as quietly as possible and tiptoe to the desk. My hands are behind me, but I might be able to get a desk drawer open and find a letter opener or a pair of scissors. I could cut through the duct tape on my wrists.

Then what? I could get out of here, maybe, but where would I go? I’d need to get the keys from the driver to take the car, and that’s my only hope of getting away. I’m not going to get far in my bare feet otherwise.

One thing at a time. I have to get into the desk.

The locked desk. “Dammit,” I whisper while tears fill my eyes and blur my vision. No matter how I tug, none of the drawers budge. There are pens and a stapler on the desk, but that’s no help.

What else can I do? There must be something I can use. I look around, panic building, flexing my fingers to keep them from going totally numb. I can’t do anything with numb hands.

You can’t do anything at all. Who are you trying to kid?

No. I can’t believe that. Dane would want me to fight this somehow. Especially if he knew how that guy was looking at me. A couple of bored men and a half-naked girl who can’t defend herself? You don’t need to be a writer to figure out how that story ends.

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