Squeezing my eyes, I try to rub my face, but my hands are bound. My eyes fly open, but the room is mostly dark. My hands are tied together in front of me and I’m on my side on what feels like a camping cot. Like the old green burlap cots we keep in the stables for when we need to be in there overnight.
My heart immediately starts to beat against my ribcage, and the increase in my blood pressure is making my head hurt worse. The beat of my heart is syncing up with the throbbing pain swirling around my head.
Wiggling my toes, my ankle bones press together as I move my feet. My boots are gone, and my toes are cold in my thin socks. Whatever is binding my ankles is digging into theskin over my bone.
My last memory is of Jax looking at me. The mask of calm he was using to try to reassure me and keep me calm slipped, and the rage was on full display before everything went black. That asshole must have knocked me out.
Taking a deep breath as a wave of nausea bubbles through my middle, I roll my head on the burlap onto my forehead, so my face is pointing down to take a few measured breaths through my nose.
“Marley?” Hallie’s scared voice is in the room somewhere.
Lifting my head and shoulders to push myself up on the cot and immediately regretting it, I lower onto my bound hands tucked up to my chest, and set my forehead back on the rough fabric. I fight the urge to vomit as the pain in my head radiates in waves with my erratic heartbeat.
“Marley, are you okay?” Hallie whispers.
“MmHm.” I mumble while focusing on letting deep, measured breaths soothe the nausea.
“I’m sorry, Marley. I’m so sorry.” She whimpers.
“Hallie, I love you and believe me when I say I don’t blame any of this on you. But please be quiet just for a minute.” My breaths become shaky as I think about Jax and Mason. How are they going to find me? Just my eyes stinging makes my head hurt worse.
I can’t break down right now.
Thankfully, Hallie does as I ask and silence hangs on the cool, damp air around us. Are we in a basement? It smells musty, like a basement. Oh, God, I need to get a grip. If I don’t get ahold of myself, I’m not only going to vomit but I’m also going to lose my shit and break down right here in a musty, moldy room on a crappy cot, with a splitting headache.
Wishing with everything in me I was still wrapped in Jax’s arms like I was this morning. I would love to smell leather and soap instead of must and mold and dampnessright now.
“Do you know where we are?” I ask, my voice muffled.
“No, they had a cloth over my head, but I think we might be in one of the warehouses by the Port of Catoosa.”
A little bit of hope eases my fear. If it’s true, I’m not that far from home. “How long do you think we were driving? Could it have been thirty minutes?”
“Uhm, maybe. Give or take.”
I take another deep breath and slowly separate my forehead from the rough burlap, my head hanging as I slowly lift myself. Something cool touches the underside of my chin and I extend my finger to touch the little horseshoe tapping against my skin.
Pushing myself up to lean on my hands and hip, I take my first good look around and see a small, dark window close to the top of a cinder-block wall. Dim illumination from outside lights is shining through, offering a little bit of light. “Do you know how long we’ve been here?”
“It’s been hours. I was starting to worry about you since you’ve been out so long.” A small sniffle comes from behind me to my left. “I thought maybe he hurt you real bad.”
My mouth feels like cotton, and I would give anything for a glass of water right now. Clearing my throat that feels a little raw, I ask, “Do you know who’s warehouse and why do you think we’re in Catoosa?”
Another sniffle. “One time, D had to meet some people, and he took me with him. When they slid the big door open, and the sound of the echoes as they talked after we got inside, it reminded me of that warehouse. Also, I keep hearing a whistle, like the ones they use for the ships on the river.”
This is good. If she’s right, then we are close to home still. “Do you remember anything about what’s upstairs? Is there a phone?”
“I don’t, sorry.”
Damn.
Moving my hands, I test to see how tight the bounds are around my wrist, I think it’s a zip tie. They’re pretty secure. “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”
Another sniffle. I can barely see her, she’s sitting up on her cot leaning against the wall, her knees pulled up to her chest. “Not any more than usual. I’ve been more worried about you.”
“Did they say anything before they left? Are they coming back tonight?”
“I heard someone tell D that he shouldn’t have brought you here, but D said he needed you for leverage. I don’t think they’re happy with him.”
