But he’s too quick. And the tall, dark stranger grabs my arm and pushes me against the wall.
The smile on his face is dangerous as he leans close. For the briefest second, I think he is going to kiss me, and I turn my head to the side, flinching from him.
He laughs darkly.
“Little Kayla. Your bodyguards are dead, so there is no need to run back to them. Don’t worry, we didn’t make a scene. They are tucked away in the trunk of your car. Safe and sound, but very dead.”
Nausea shoots through me, and I whimper, my breath shuddering as I try to breathe in.
“What do you want from me?” I ask, my voice cracking even though I am trying my utmost to sound strong and unafraid.
“Nothing, sweet, beautiful girl. I can see why he likes you.” He speaks with authority. His demeanor reminds me of Josiah; the confidence with which he holds himself speaks of power that most men don’t have.
I try to shove him away, and he pushes his body harder against mine, pinning me in place. “Don’t fight, you might get me excited,” he laughs as though we are playing some kind of game.
“Tell me what you want!” I demand.
“I want you to send a message for me, darling,” he muses, gently tracing his finger beneath my jaw and lifting my face so I am forced to look into his piercing, bright blue eyes.
He speaks in a whisper against my mouth.
“Tell Josiah I say hello and that I hope his family is well,” he says.
I am about to tell him to go to hell when he steps back and releases me. His smile is still playful and charming, but his eyes glint with danger. “Have a lovely day, little Kayla. I hope I get to see you again soon,” he grins, then he walks away, heading downthe hallway to the back of the restaurant with a confident and calm stride and his hands shoved into his pockets.
My heart is beating so fast I might throw up. Suddenly, I snap out of it and sprint down the hallway back into the restaurant. The girl behind the counter waves at me and smiles. “Your order is ready,” she says in a sing-song voice.
I spin in search of my guards, but they aren’t anywhere. No, please, this can’t be real.
Sprinting out of the restaurant and into the street, I run straight to the car, and my heart drops down to the pit of my stomach when I see the blood smear on the back. A handprint on the trunk.
I know I shouldn’t.
My mind is screaming at me not to do it.
But I open the trunk.
The yelp of shock and horror that comes out of my mouth is nothing more than a strangled gargle. I step back, slamming the trunk closed again when I realize that there are innocent people everywhere around me, mothers and children who do not need to see the horror of what I just saw.
I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to block it out, but the images become more defined in the darkness of my mind. Their bodies, twisted, distorted, and covered in blood. Their eyes, lifeless and hollow, staring up at me.
I lean close to the sidewalk and vomit.
Not knowing what to do, I tug my phone from my pocket and dial Josiah.
While I wait, I can’t bring myself to climb into the car. I can’t sit in there knowing they are in the trunk. But I can’t stand still, either. So, I pace up and down the street.
Josiah arrives in a matter of minutes and runs to me, grabbing me into his arms and clutching me as though I was trying to get away. But I cling to him like I never want him to let me go.
Chapter 21 - Josiah
She is shaking in my arms, her entire body trembling with shock.
“Where are they?” I ask quietly.
“In the trunk,” she whispers.
“Did anyone see anything?”
