Naomi
MY STOMACH WAS churning when I woke up. Pregnancy had intensified my sense of smell, and as I focused, I could pick up lingering scents of mold, dust, concrete, and some sort of unfamiliar masculine cologne. Groggy with my mind still in a half-asleep haze, I forced open my eyes with a wince. They were so dry, the backs of my eyelids felt like sandpaper. More darkness greeted me. I blinked, lubricating my dry eyes and clearing my blurry vision, until I could make out four walls and a door. I was fully dressed with my hands bound behind my back, lying on the cool cement floor.
Where the hell am I?
My head ached as I fought to piece together memories.
I’d told Eagle everything. He stared at me, probably in shock, as I invited him into my life—and the life of our child—before threatening him. Yep, that had really happened. Then, I ran into Carly and her cute little boy before I left to get something to eat.
My stomach growled, reminding me that I hadn’t made it to a restaurant. Instead, two men had forced me into a van. It happened so fast, I hadn’t even had time to react.
The driver’s face came back to me. He was so damn familiar, yet I still couldn’t place him. He had a gun, and what had he said?
‘Knock her out.’
Oh yeah. I’d been drugged. My gaze shot to my arm, but I couldn’t see anything other than the pale outline in the dark. At least now I understood why my thoughts were so jumbled.
What the fuck did they inject me with?
There was so much shit out there that could harm a baby or even end a pregnancy, that just thinking about the possibilities made me want to beat the shit out of the assholes who’d nabbed me. Or cry. Probably both, since all of a sudden my eyes no longer lacked for moisture. I’d just gotten used to the idea of this baby—just rearranged my entire life for it—and these dipshits had possibly put it at risk. Why? The driver looked too familiar for this to be some random kidnapping, but Eagle was the only one who knew I was in town, and he’d just found out.
Why would anyone want to kidnap me?
Nothing came to mind. All I knew for sure was that if something happened to my child…
No.I couldn’t let myself think about that or I’d be useless. No sense in borrowing trouble when the baby was probably perfectly fine. I needed to keep my wits about me and find my way out of this place, so I could get to a doctor and make sure.
Determined to do just that, I sat up. Pain split through my head, and my stomach revolted. Bile tickled the back of my throat and I swallowed it back, standing as I scanned the space for a toilet or a bucket or something. No luck. My stomach spasmed. I couldn’t hold it anymore. I hurried to the wall, leaned against it for support, bent at the waist, and heaved.
I hadn’t eaten since the Albuquerque airport, and my stomach felt empty, but apparently not too empty. Throat burning and eyes watering, I stayed bent over until I finished. When I righted myself, the room smelled like vomit. Spitting the last of it out, I wiped my mouth on my shoulder and wished for a glass of water.
A sliver of dim light surrounded what had to be a door. On unsteady legs, I shuffled over to it, turned around so it was at my back, and groped for the knob. It took me longer than it should have, but I finally grasped the metal and struggled to turn it from my strange angle. Locked. Beside the door, I could barely make out a light switch. With my nose, I flicked it down and back up, but nothing happened. Disappointed, but not surprised, I carefully skirted the wall, searching for a window or a secret passageway or something.
I was about halfway around the room when the door flung open. Dull light flooded in around the figure of a big man. Stairs led up behind him, confirming my guess that I was probably underground in a basement-type room. I froze at the sight of the man, but he rushed across the room anyway, caging me like I was about to bolt. His sour, sweaty stench assaulted my nose as he sandwiched me against the wall, pressing something into my side.
“Don’t fuckin’ move or I’ll blow your goddamn guts out.”
A gun! The bastard had a fucking gun digging under my ribs. Furious, but sufficiently cowed, I held my breath and tried to appear as non-threatening as possible.
Squeaking noises came from the center of the room, and then light flooded the space. I dropped my head and blinked until my retinas were no longer burning.
“Release her, Joe, she’s not going anywhere.”
The voice was familiar. I focused on it, trying to place it, as the wall of muscle dug his pistol deeper into my side.
“Do I need to remind you that you’re not in charge?” Joe asked.
“Nope. Received your last message loud and clear. Just trying to protect the boss’ investment. Don’t think he’d want her hurt. Not when she’s worth so much.”
Joe seemed to consider this for a moment before extracting his gun from beneath my ribs and stepping back. He kept it trained on me, his scowl dark and hateful. I had no idea how someone I didn’t know could loathe me, but he clearly did. Or maybe he looked at everyone like that? Maybe instead of resting bitch face, he had resting cut-you-up-and-store-you-in-my-freezer face?
“Hello, Princess. Long time, no see.”
My gaze shot to the man standing under the light, as his voice evoked a memory. Two years ago, at the fire station, dark hair, cocky smirk, leering at me over Kim’s head. ‘You must be the princess. If you decide you want to break your big brother’s rules, you come and find me. I’ll show you a good time.’
“Brass?” I asked, certain I must be wrong.
“Nice to see you remember me, babe.”
