“That was uncalled for.” Simon’s tone is so mild, it terrifies me. “Hope, my sweet, please get up.”
“Boss—”
Simon shoots Rex a look, and the big man mutters an apology—not to me but to Simon—under his breath.
My leg threatens to buckle, but I manage to stand on the second try.
“That is better.” With his hands clasped behind his back, Simon approaches and looks me up and down. “Your hair is atrocious. And those clothes? Really, Hope. I thought I’d taught you better than that.” With a curl to his lips, he grabs the hoodie and rips it down my arms. The motion sends me spinning. Right into Rex. “Check her!”
Rex molds his hands to my breasts, squeezing so hard, I gasp. The scent of wintergreen is overwhelming as he explores my body, dragging his hands down my stomach, over my hips, and between my legs.
“No wires or weapons,” he says, and thank God he steps back.
Kyle, taller than Simon by a few inches, picks up a large, black wand. After a short beep, he waves it from my head to my shoes. “No tech either, boss.”
Nothing you can find, jerk.
“At least you did something right. Now, where is the memory card?” Simon asks.
“In m-my purse,” I say quietly, staring down at his perfectly polished loafers. He’s too calm. Too cold. How long has it been? Twenty minutes? If I can talk to him, maybe he won’t hurt me too badly before Wyatt and the rest of the team can get here.
Orson, who’s leaning against the door to the courtyard, rips the pretty blue canvas bag in half. Tears prick at my eyes. I loved that bag. Even if I’d only had it for two days.
A pack of tissues, my lipstick, and my compact fall to the floor. There was no way I was bringing my wallet. Not when my ID still has my name as Hope Hastings.
“Nothing, boss,” Orson says.
“Inside pocket,” I add quickly. “In a little plastic case. It’s all there. Everything I copied. You can get the investigation stopped. I know you can. Then everything can go back to the way it was. I did what you wanted. Let Bettina go. Please.”
Simon laughs so hard, he doubles over, hands on his hips. “Let her…go? You stupid, naive bitch. I own her. I own both of you.” He straightens, and all the amusement vanishes from his face.
Fear crawls up my throat, bitter on my tongue.
“Take my property to the basement,” he says with a wave of his hand at Rex. “And make certain she’s comfortable. I’ll be down soon.”
Kyle and Rex each grab one of my arms. My knee throbs. I can’t keep my feet under me. “Simon! Please! I came back—”
Rex’s punch steals my breath. I choke and gasp for air until pain sings along my right shoulder. I’m being dragged now. Sliding along the travertine. Kyle jerks my wrist—hard—and something pops.
Beeping.
I force my head up, squinting through the pain. Rex is tapping numbers on an electronic keypad, but it’s too far away for me to make them out. That lock wasn’t there a week ago.
Shit. What else changed? What if everything I told West is wrong now?
I try to scramble to my feet, but Rex has the door open too quickly. A set of concrete stairs disappears into darkness.
Kyle drops my arm, and I cradle it to my chest and curl into a ball. Until a rough hand snags my ankle.
“No! Don’t!” I beg.
But Rex doesn’t let go. My skull hits the second step so hard, I see stars.
“Protect your head, neck, and throat. Most vulnerable areas. For a woman, anyway.”
West’s advice echoes in my ears. Throwing my arms up to cradle my head, I clench my teeth. Can’t scream. That’s what they want.
Each step hurts worse than the last. My wrists. My back. My elbows.
