A scream caught in my throat.
But it muffled against the gag.
Then I was tossed in the trunk, my head knocking off something hard enough for me to black out for a split second.
I was awake before the engine roared to life.
Then, well, we were off.
I braced myself against the front wall of the trunk, rolling onto my side so my hands could feel around the interior.
Cameron had planned this. But he hadn’t prepared well for it.
The trunk was littered with junk.
A gym bag full of what felt like clothes and shoes, a water bottle, a few scattered reusable grocery bags, a ball of some sort, and, yes, a bat.
A freakingbat.
I pulled it up to a short choke, knowing that my swing was going to be compromised by the small space, and that if I held it too far away, Cameron would be able to yank it away from me. Then likely punish me for trying to hit him in the first place.
But if I could time it right, if I could find enough momentum, if my aim was true, a metal bat to the face could do a whole hell of a lot of damage.
Maybe even enough to give me a chance to get my ankles free so I could run. I could deal with the wrists later. I just needed to put all my radio training sessions to work and haul ass the hell away from here.
Get to somewhere public.
Find a person.
Find a phone.
Then bring the might of the entire freaking MC down on this asshole.
The ride was long enough for some of the adrenaline from the initial kidnapping and attack to wane. In its wake was the pain it had protected me from.
The burning sensation of cuts across my cheek, nose, chin, and forehead. The pounding where my head slammed into the ground. The migraine screaming behind my eyes. The minor pangs where my body had knocked against the wheelbarrow.
I was going to be hurting for a few days.
But so long as I was alive, that was okay.
So I wiped my sweaty palms down my dress then gripped the bat tighter as the car turned, then slowed, idled, turned off.
I sucked in a deep breath and turned, rolling onto my back, and watching the trunk lid until it sliced open.
There was Cameron, the star-speckled sky framed behind him, casting most of his face in shadow. And, I hoped, me as well.
I hoped my vision was better thanks to the dark of the trunk.
When Cameron leaned down toward me, I mustered every bit of strength I could, and swung.
The sound of the bat cracking against him made my stomach twist. His yowl of pain as he stumbled back didn’t give me the satisfaction I was hoping for.
But it gave me a window.
I twisted enough to throw my bound legs out of the trunk, then shimmied until I scooted up over the edge. But the stupid binds tripped me up, sending me dropping down.
My panic surged.
