My head thuds against something, and I squeeze my eyes against the pain.
There’s laughter, male laughter, nearby.
“Did you see the way that thing lit up?” one voice asks excitedly.
“We all saw it, dumbass.”
“Direct fucking hit!” The first man isn’t deterred.
I slowly open my eyes, the floor beneath me rocking slightly, and I think I’m lying on the floor, in the way back, of some large vehicle. My knees are bent, and the rough carpet scratches against my cheek.
My hands are taped together, a thick band of duct tape encircling my wrists, and a new wave of panic fills me.
I’m being taken.
I press my lips together to suppress a whimper. I don’t want to make a sound. I don’t want them to know I’m awake.
At least I’m on my right side. My whole-body hurts, but my left side feels extra bad. Probably since that’s the side where their trucks hit us.
I force my eyes to focus on the rear door in front of me, needing to stay awake.
But awake means thinking.
Giles is dead.
The two men in the first SUV… I don’t even know their names, and they’re dead.
And Robert.
My throat tightens even further.
Robert might be dead too.
And it’s all my fault.
All because I wanted to leave the house.
Because I didn’t understand.
Tears track from my stinging eyes.
I’d been told. Nero told me over and over again that it was dangerous. But I didn’t understand. Not truly. And now I’m responsible for the deaths of so many.
The driver takes a turn too fast, causing me to bump my head again, sending black spots across my vision.
Breathing through the pain, I stare at the handle on the inside of the door.
Maybe I could grab it? Yank the handle and have the back door pop open.
But what if it doesn’t work and I just alert them that I’m awake?
Defeat presses in on me, more tears filling my eyes.
Even if it did open the door, what am I gonna do? Roll out the back like a stuntman? Roll away from my captors, straight onto the pavement, only to be run over by whatever car is right behind us.
No.
Nero will come for me.
He will find me.
“I hope Boss knows what he’s doing,” a different man grumbles.
Someone else blows out a breath. “Better not let anyone else hear you say that.”
“What’re you talking about?” the first voice asks.
“Nero’s not gonna take this lying down,” the grumbly man responds.
There’s silence for a long moment before the first man speaks again, only he’s not chuckling anymore. “Who the fuck did we just grab?”
“His woman.”
No one replies as a thick energy fills the interior of the car.
It’s fear.
And it’s not just mine.
