Page 121 of Hold On

“Oh God. A tracker on the bike?” Dominic said. “On us? Our phones? Shit, I thought it was all right now, that Kilic was going to let it go. I’m sorry.”

Maybe it wasn’t Kilic after Dominic.Oh fuck.

When Ren spotted a pub with a sign indicating parking at the rear, he turned in. They couldn’t be seen from the road but that might not matter if he discovered something on the bike. It didn’t take long to find the small black tracker fastened under the fairing.Fucking hell.Ren prised it off and showed it to Dominic. “That’s how they knew where we were and where we are now.”

“What do we do?”

“Leave it and keep going.”Fast.

In an ideal world, he’d have attached the tracker to a car going in the opposite direction but they didn’t have time to wait for someone to exit the pub. Ren tossed the tracker into a bush and within moments, they were back on the road. He cursed himself for not checking the bike every time he’d come back to it. His overconfidence could have got them both into serious trouble. But there was no point railing at himself now. He needed to get them away from this spot as quickly as he could, except these narrow country roads, bordered by tall hedges, were full of blind bends that were dangerous at high speed. He could see on his sat nav there was a two-lane road three miles ahead and it would be easier then.

It was, and then it wasn’t. Ren hadn’t gone more than a couple of miles on the wider road before they were in trouble. He barely had time to shout, “Hold on!” as a silver Lexus heading towards them suddenly swerved across their path. Ren swerved too, and thought he’d found a way past, only for the bike to be clipped from behind and he lost control. The bike tipped beyond the point that he could right it and hit the road.

Ren felt Dominic fall off but he stayed on the bike as long as he could, even though it was at an impossible angle. He tucked in his head, then shoving the bike away from him, he let himself fall so he landed on his back. It was so hard to defy his instincts and not put his hands out to protect himself. But he managed to keep his hands flat and go with the slide, his back on the tarmac, twisting as momentum kept him moving. At least he could see where he was going which mean he had the chance to change direction if he had to. The bike kept going too, sparks flying as it skidded down the tarmac ahead of him.

When he stopped moving, Ren sucked in a breath.Still alive then. Please let Dominic be okay.The rush of adrenaline and the initial shock of the impact were fading as his brain tried to persuade him to get the hell out of there. But standing up before he knew whether he was badly injured or not was a mistake. He didn’t think he’d broken any bones. His fingers moved which was a relief. No pain in his wrists, but for the moment, he couldn’t seem to move—or breathe. He hoped motorists who hadn’t been involved would stop and offer help, call the police. He listened, heard steps coming his way and—right or wrong—closed his eyes and stayed limp. Instinct told him these first responders wouldn’t be the good guys.

Hands roughly hauling him upright told him he was right. Anyone with any sense knew you didn’t move people who’d been in an accident, but when he tried to resist, he found he had neither the coordination, nor the energy to pull free. He opened his eyes, and his vision was blurred. Trying to call for help resulted in only a muffled croak. He counted four assailants through his cracked visor before he found himself thrown into the back of a van.Fuck, that hurt!A moment later, Dominic landed beside him. Others climbed in, the van’s doors were slammed shut and they were moving. The whole thing had taken no more than a couple of minutes.Christ. Please let someone have seen.

When had the tracker been put on the bike? When they were in London? But Ren had really thought things were going to be all right when he’d listened to the guy talking to Dominic. Okay, maybe he’d hadsomeconcerns, trusting criminals wasn’t something to be done lightly, but no way had he been going to say that to Dominic. Ren hadn’t wanted him to spend the rest of his life thinking it could be over at any moment.I should have asked the marquess to keep surveillance on for just a couple more weeks.

So Herb was working for Kilic? It made more sense that he’d put the tracker on while the bike was at Asquith. Ren had been taken in by that chat about reenactments.Fuck.He knew better. Except… What if this wasn’t Kilic? What if it was Levan?

When Ren’s helmet was removed, he kept his eyes closed. He was hurting more now, his entire body one big ache, his legs and arms stiff and painful, and his head throbbed. How was he going to get out of this? How was he going to get both of them out of this? What if Dominic was seriously injured? Well, whoever had them wouldn’t care about that. So why had the two of them been abducted and not killed?

His phone was removed from his pocket and he guessed that was the last he’d see of that. They wouldn’t be able to get into it without his password, preferable for a guy in his line of work than facial recognition or fingerprint, but if they threatened to hurt Dominic if he didn’t provide access?Shit.There was nothing on there to give him away as a cop, but others could, albeit not deliberately.Will.Their parents.If Levan was behind this, then he already knew. The best chance for him and Dominic was that someone had witnessed what happened, or that the bike was found at the side of the road. It would be traced to Ren.

So far, no one in the van had spoken. Ren was desperate to ask Dominic if he was okay but he kept quiet. Wherever they were being taken, Ren hoped to do something before they got there. While they were still on the road, there was a chance of drawing attention. Could he get to the doors and open them?And do what? Throw myself out and leave Dominic? Kill myself in the process?

Then a hand wrapped around his throat and squeezed.

“Ap’irebs tvalebis gakhelas,mk’vdari k’atsi?” Going to open your eyes, dead man?

Ren’s world collapsed.Fucking Levan!It was him they were after, not Dominic.

The hand around his throat tightened so he couldn’t draw in air and his lungs burned. Playing dead was going to result in himbeingdead. He reached up to try and wrench off the fingers that were stopping him from breathing, only to feel the grip tighten. Black spots danced in his vision.Then suddenly the hand was gone and he was gasping, dragging in air while he still could.

“Dedismt’q’vneli.”

Being called a motherfucker came just before the blow to his head that made the world explode in colours, then disappear.

When Ren came round, he didn’t open his eyes but he knew he was no longer in the van. Carpet lay under his cheek and arm. His leather jacket had gone. So had his boots. His ankles and wrists were restrained, his wrists fastened behind his back with what felt like cable ties.How long have I been unconscious?It was possible he’d been drugged to keep him out. He wasn’t sure if that was better than a severe concussion.

He kept his breathing regular and risked a glance through barely open eyes. Dominic lay a few feet away, not moving. There was blood on his face and Ren’s heart lurched. He looked to be secured in the same way. No leather jacket or boots. His arms were scraped but not cut, but his jeans were badly torn.If he’d been dead, they wouldn’t have needed to restrain him.It was the only comfort he could draw because Dominic’s eyes were closed and his face was so pale.Apart from the blood.

Ren checked out what he could see of the room without moving anything but his eyes. Maybe a gable end bedroom? A closed wooden door ahead, a matching part-open door to the right of that, which probably led to a bathroom judging by the tiled floor he could just see, then a dormer window. A modern house and they were on the top floor.

The lack of any sound made him risk rolling over. Relief at finding the room empty was tempered by the pain that accompanied moving.Christ!There was no way of coming off a bike at speed without ending up hurt. Even so, he’d been lucky. He thought he was just bruised. He hoped Dominic had been lucky too. But if he was still unconscious…

There was another door with an angled top at the end of the room. Maybe a cupboard. Small doors in the walls below the sloping roof were likely storage areas in the roof space. The room had two windows. One near the bed, but the dormer window was larger. Even assuming he could get it open, it would be a long drop to the ground. He rolled over again.

“Dominic,” he whispered and shuffled closer. “Wake up!”

Ren was about to try again when he heard footsteps.Shit.His mind raced. Pretend to have a fit? Pretend to be semi-conscious? Ask for the bathroom? Convince them to unfasten his hands? But even if he could get himself free, could he leave Dominic? He’d never had that sort of dilemma before because he was a lone operator. The door opened and Tengiz walked in, Levan’s second-in-command. He was as broad as he was tall, and brutal. Two others followed that Ren didn’t recognise and they hauled him to his feet.

“You’re supposed to be dead,” Tengiz said. “We saw you die. We threw you off a cliff. What are you? A mountain goat?”

“I’ve come back to haunt you.”

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