It was then that the window—old, with frosted glass—began to shimmy upwards in its sashing. Before I could do more than give a startled squeak and hurtle towards the door, a masculine hand wrenched it all the way open with a screech of wood, and in my peripheral I saw a male form crouching on the sill. Time slowed to a stop as I heard my name. “Emery.”
Throwing a glance over my shoulder, I realized it was Brodie jumping easily to the floor. “What…?”
Questions tripped over themselves and I faltered.What are you doing? Why are you coming in through the window?It didn’t occur to me to be frightened, not even when he landed catlike on the balls of his feet and pulled a lethal looking weapon, its muzzle elongated with what I recognized as a silencer from his jacket. “Why do you have a gun?” I glanced behind me. “Is something happening out there?”
“I’m going to need you to come with me.” His mouth was a hard line of resolution beneath the scruff on his jaw.
“Come with…?” I felt like an idiot, repeating everything he said. “Through the—?” I motioned to the window and laughed uneasily when he gave a curt motion with the gun. Aside from the fact that I didn’t have a clue what was happening, I didn’t like heights. “Pass. I don’t do heights.”
“I wasn’t asking.” He wrapped his free hand around my bicep and tugged.
Reflex kicked in and I jerked free of his grasp, gasping when he immediately whirled and wrapped both arms around my torso. He pinioned my arms with his hold and lifted me with disgusting ease, bearing me toward the window.
“What the fuck? Brodie, what are you—” Something was happening here that I didn’t understand. His expression was set, and he refused to meet my eyes.He was wearing gloves, my mind supplied, clinging to details that provided a grim interpretation of events.He has a gun.
He was struggling to hold on to both me and the gun as he wrangled me into place against his chest. I fought against him, tugging one arm loose of his hold to lash out at his face and kicking at his shins. His face was entirely too close to mine and I saw his eyes flare with a sudden surge of anger. “Stop fighting me, damn you!” I felt the gun press against my temple. “Stop fighting or I’ll shoot you, so help me God.”
For a breath we were both absolutely still. Then I gave a mirthless laugh.
“So, you’re here to kill me then? Is that what this is?” I stared up into his face. It was blank. “Unbelievable.” I guess Kittredge had decided not to take the risk that I wouldn’t say anything and had sent this guy, instead. The irony of it was…neither of them knew how much I wanted it. Needed it.
“Shut the fuck up.” The hand with the gun was shaking. The sight amused me, even as it made my gut twist. I was scared to fucking death, but the sight of his waffling was funny. Would it hurt? How long would I feel it? My own hands alive with a tremble, I tilted my head to the side and pressed my temple against the muzzle. It was cold. Hard.
“Do it,” I whispered, holding his eyes with the challenge in my own. “You’ll be doing me a favor.” His brow creased with a frown. That was not the response he was expecting. “I mean it!” I pushed my head harder against the gun and he jerked it away.
His gaze narrowed on my own. “What—”
The doorknob rattled at that moment. “Hellooo! Is anyone in there? The door seems to be locked—”
Brodie flinched and with a quick motion shoved the gun into the back of his pants. One hand covered my mouth and the other pulled me toward the window.
“Shh,” he ordered curtly, and in the mirror I saw my eyes flare at the command.Oh, hell no.You can kill me, but you’d better not shush me. Twisting my head to loosen his grip on my mouth, I sank my teeth into the fleshy pad of his palm and felt the thick taste of leather coat my tongue.Fucking gloves.“You little beast!” he exclaimed, but while his eyes flashed irritation at me, his hand didn’t move.
Even as I fought, tugging and kicking and yelling against his hand, confusion and anger twisted my gut. I knew it wasn’t the time or place, but my brain spun with the question of why. This was Brodie, someone my friends had known for months, someone they had socialized with, trusted. It didn’t make any sense.
At the window, Brodie let go of my mouth long enough to remove a roll of duct tape from his coat pocket. He tore a single short strip loose with his teeth and plastered it firmly over my mouth; then ripped away another, longer strip and wound it tightly around my wrists. I glared with all the passion I could muster over the top of the tape, trying to move my lips against it and produce sound.
“OO ULL AY UH UH.”You will pay for this, I promised.
He grinned at me, teeth a flash of white against the russet of his facial hair. “By God, you’re fierce.”
When he leaned out the window to clip some kind of harness to the black straps I had just noticed crossing over his chest, I tried to break away and run toward the door again. A long arm reached out with irritating ease and caught me around the waist. He pulled me around so our chests were aligned and looped my arms over his head and around his neck. “Hold on tight, then,” he whispered against my ear, and then pushed out of the window and away from the wall.
I screamed behind the gag until a series of cables caught and slowed us, eyes wide on the ground that was rushing up from five stories below. He snickered, as if this was simply a fun afternoon activity. It may have been for him; I didn’t know. All I knew is that heights were not my thing, and my head was whirling with vertigo. I pressed my face into his chest and squeezed my eyes shut, barely registering when he dropped one gloved hand from the cable and lifted me up by my ass, encouraging me with the motion to wrap my legs around his waist and hang on.
We reached the ground a moment later, his knees bending and thighs flexing beneath mine as he absorbed the impact. I opened my eyes to see him release the cable with his free hand and then stride with me to a vehicle parked a few feet away. We were in the alley behind the hotel, and the smell of garbage from a nearby trio of dumpsters was rank.
At the car, a large, pewter gray sport utility vehicle with privacy-screened windows, he clicked open the back and set me down. “Sorry about this. You’re going to have to ride back here for a while and I can’t have you kicking about.” I squinted in confusion, and then he answered my unasked question when I felt a tiny prick on my neck.
His eyes, oddly gentle for a kidnapper, were the last thing I saw as blackness rushed up to greet me.
