Chapter 1
Lovelyn
Of all the ways I could be hurtling towards death, unsatisfied wasn’t the one I’d expected.
Mere minutes ago, I’d been grabbed off the street and thrown into the back of a van. And while I should be focusing on escape, the perfectly illogical thought wrapped around my mind. I was going to die, and I’d never had great sex. Never figured out what I liked. Never had someone who cared enough to help me learn.
Now, I never would.
Damn it.Focus.
The engine growled beneath me, the road’s hum changing as we turned corners. Locked somewhere between terror and disbelief, I catalogued what I knew. A dark-coloured vehicle, no windows, rough floorboards under my palms, a bag tied tight over my head. Whoever had taken me was strong enough to lift me without a struggle. Definitely a man.
If I could slow my panic, maybe I could work out who.
My father’s job in the police came with enemies, enough to fill a spreadsheet. The number of people I could call on for help? Far smaller. Irrationally, my mind latched on to a face.
Kane. The towering wall of tattooed muscle I’d played fake girlfriend to earlier today. A gangster, technically. I’d escortedhim into a police safe house so he could rescue a colleague, and the heat of his hand on my arm had fried my brain. He’d leaned close, his voice a gravelled whisper against my ear, promising he wanted to talk to me later.
So tantalising. I’d hurried away through town, my nose in the chatter on a police message group and not on my surroundings. My ancestors had survived plagues and wars. Distraction by notifications was my downfall.
I’d been grabbed in seconds flat.
Worse, it had come shortly after my father had passed on a warning he’d received about me. A threat with the instruction not to go out at night.
I’d been nabbed in broad daylight, thanks very much.
I’d been obsessing over Kane in the couple of hours since. What had he wanted to say? Would I ever get to hear it? How did he somehow now represent safety in my mind?
Another turn. Tyres rattled over cobbles. My pulse quickened. Whoever had taken me was choosing a quiet place to stop.
Maybe this was it. I’d find out what kind of man thought I was worth stealing.
Fresh fear rinsed me cold, and I felt around my surroundings, my fingers ghosting over the boards then cool interior walls. No handle to wrench. The knot on the bag wouldn’t give.
What didn’t make sense was why my hands or legs weren’t constrained. It suggested that whoever took me didn’t see me as a threat.
Reasonable. I wasn’t short, but I was definitely on the wobbly side of curvy. No danger to any man.
Still, I’d fight. Or negotiate for my life. I was a resourceful woman with links to the police force, but also connectionsinto Deadwater’s underworld. I’d been happily spanning both, perhaps to my downfall.
One thing was certain, I wasn’t going to be an easy captive.
The van slowed, the engine idled, then it cut out.
I held my breath. We’d been on the road only around twenty minutes. On a mental map, that could’ve got us from Leith to the outskirts of Edinburgh. A residential estate, an industrial park, or a country lane where I’d end up a footnote in a missing person report.
Inches from my head, the latch clicked, and I jumped and tucked in on myself. The door glided open, light filtering around the edges of the bag. Sure fingers grasped the tie at my neck.
Panic seized hold of me. I kicked out, hard, connecting with a soft part of my kidnapper’s body. He released a surprisedoof.Good. If I died tonight, at least someone else was going to limp tomorrow.
I scrambled towards the light and half fell out of the van.
“Help!” I screamed into the material of my hood, stumbling away. Swinging around, I put my hands out and yelled again.
With frightening ease, my attacker collected my wrists behind my back with one hand and pinned me against him, using his free hand to tackle the knot.
Thick arms. Something familiar in the feel of him. It couldn’t bypass my terror to resolve into a clue.
