“Come on!” I bellowed and Dante and Mav stared at me like I had lost my fucking mind. “Let’s go! Or I’ll be the one to put bullets in you.”
“Ha-HAH!” the woman barked, throwing open the van doors and holding up the zip ties. “I can see why she likes you guys. Here.”
And as I caught the zip ties against my chest, I knew only one thing for certain.
The second I got to wherever the hell we were headed, everyone who stood in the way of Brielle was dead. I promised I’d keep her safe, and I meant it. I promised her she’d be safe with us, and I meant it. She’d come back home, she’d go back to her life, no matter what I had to do in order to make that happen.
Even if it meant me giving my life for hers.
21
BRIELLE
My head ached. My body burned. Jesus, it felt like someone had run me through a fucking wood chipper. I tried to pick up my hanging head, but the ache in my joints kept it from leveling out on top of my shoulders. There was one thing, though. One thing that completely disarmed me.
There was silence.
“Hello?” I called out.
The sound wasn’t very loud, though.
“Hello?!” I asked as I tried again.
God, my mouth was so dry. Why the hell was it dry?
As I moved my jaw, the ache shot down my neck. Jesus Christ, why the hell did I feel so terrible? I peeked one eye open and found myself staring down at the floor. A marble, tiled floor.
Holy fuck, was I still in the bathroom?
That woke me up. Despite the pounding in my head, I found myself perched on the tank of a toilet. My gaze focused long enough to find that one of my tits had almost slipped out of my strapless bra. The flimsy thong I wore had sat against my body long enough for Dante’s mark to dry out, leaving it crunchy and hard against my skin. But I realized why my wrists hurt so fucking much.
They were bound with rope and tied to my goddamn ankles.
“Help meeee!” I cried out.
Something tugged at the edges of my lips. Something muted the sound of my voice. I moved my tongue around, trying to free it from its heaviness. However, it kept raking against something that felt almost cloth-like. Something damp dripped down my neck. It slithered toward my chest, making me grimace while the smell of Dante’s cologne still hovered around me.
Did rich people not use the fucking restroom?
Did they just not have fucking bladders or something?
“Somebody! Help me!” I cried out.
There was no one, though. No music filtered through the door. No soft sounds of laughing and gossiping hit my ears. Hell, the bathroom had those automatic lights that clicked on and off whenever someone came in or left, and it took my eyes forever to adjust to the pitch blackness. Fear consumed me. If Dante didn’t know that I was missing, then no one did.
Or maybe Dante was in trouble.
Which meant I was useless to him.
Maybe I’ve always been useless.
Tears streaked my cheeks. I tried to work loose the binds around my wrists, but the pain was excruciating. I had used a great deal of makeup to cover up the marks Axton had left behind in their faux-pas interrogation practices, and I felt my tears and my sweat carrying it away from my body. The pain made me groan. I doubled over, allowing the drool from my pried-open mouth to drop onto the toilet seat that my feet clung to for dear life.
Then, the bathroom door whipped open, and the light clicked on.
“Help!” I yelped as I tried my best to shield my eyes. “Someone, help me! I’m in here!”
Lumbering footsteps raced my heart. Holy fuck, they had found me. That was Axton. That had to be Axton. The canter was exactly like his. Heavy and slow, with a soft lilt that—
