Page 30 of Deadly Intentions

“Looks like we’re going back to Reno.” Alex pursed his lips.

“I know you don’t want to be part of this, Alex. And I respect that. But if you could help us, get situated in Reno, I’d appreciate it. That mother fucker has my sister and I’m going to bring hellfire down on him and his entire operation.”

“What about Harley?” Drew’s eyes shifted between us.

“She’ll go back with Antonio. It’s safer in Vegas and she’s familiar with Michael’s case.”

“Do I get a say so?” Harley’s voice cut through the silence.

“No.” Drew shot her a look that made even me shut my mouth. “You’re not safe here.”

“But this is my home. You can’t just make me leave.”

“Is your family here?”

“No.” Her head tilted up in defiance.

“Harley,” I interjected. “I know this is inconvenient, but you aren’t safe here alone. And we can’t stay here. You would also be doing us a favor if you traveled with Antonio and Michael back to Vegas. Aside from Catarina and Dr. Brooks, you’re the only one who knows his condition… and Catarina trusts you.”

Harley appraised me, taking my words in. “Fine. But only for a few days. I need to make a phone call to my supervisor. They’re going to need to cover mine and Catarina’s shifts.”

“I’ll take care of it.” Massimo moved out of the room before Harley could argue.

“Thank you.” Antonio nodded toward her, his relief showing on his face.

seventeen

CATARINA

It tookme a few seconds to get my bearings and realize I was in a trunk—still. I was surprised to find my hands and feet weren’t bound. They must have thought the sedative would last the entire ride to wherever they were taking me. My eyes adjusted to the inside, allowing me to make out a few shapes inside the space housing me. The only light I had was the red illumination coming from the back taillights. It was closing in on nightfall, which indicated I’d been transported a good distance from Lake District. And if I had to bet… we were going to Reno.

I rolled to my belly and tried to peer out the gap between the trunk and the plastic casing of the light. I couldn’t see much, only that I was right, and it was dark. My palms skimmed the interior of the trunk, searching for something I could use as a tool. My body tensed when my fingers brushed across a small screwdriver. It was lodged between the floor and the car’s edge, but using my nails, I pried it free.

My body lurched sideways and slammed into the backseat when the car came to a stop. I rolled back to my side and tucked the screwdriver into the waist of my scrubs, using the ties to hold it in place. I wanted them to believe I was still unconscious, so I laid as still as I could, waiting for the trunk to open.

The metal lid flew up and hands wrapped around my shoulders. My body was wrenched up and tossed onto the pavement, making me cry out in pain. I immediately covered my face, anticipating a hit.

“Get up.” Dr. Brooks kicked me in the side, causing the air to whoosh out of my lungs.

Forcing myself to roll over, I used my hands to push up off the ground. Blood trickled down my leg where it had connected with the asphalt. Pain lanced up my leg, radiating throughout my entire being. It felt like fire was burning across my flesh as I hobbled to my feet.

“Take her inside.” Javier jerked his head toward the metal building behind me. “I’ll be inside in a minute.”

Dr. Brooks wrapped his fingers around my bicep and dragged me into the warehouse. I was abandoned, save for a metal cabinet and a few tables and chairs. The smell made my stomach churn with bile, nearly causing me to vomit. I was shoved into a seat with such force it made me cry out in pain.

“Don’t fucking move.” Dr. Brooks’ palm connected with my cheek before he stepped away. I watched through tears as he opened the cabinet doors and tugged out a bag of zip ties. He dumped the plastic binds at my feet and pulled a gun from his waistband.

With the weapon trained to my head, he spoke. “Secure your legs to the chair and don’t fucking try anything.”

“No.” The back of his hand struck my face again.

“Do it.” The metal barrel pressed into my scalp.

My eyes closed as I leaned forward and wrapped the plastic around my ankle and pulled it tight. I repeated the process with the opposite leg and sat up. “There.”

“Hold the arms.” He waved the gun at me, waiting for me to comply.

As soon as I did, he tucked the gun into his pants and grabbed more ties. He wrapped the plastic sheaths around my wrist, yanking them to the point of cutting into my skin. I hissed at the burning sensation they caused.

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