Muttering a curse, the someone beside her bent, and since Cassandra moved with him, she had to assume that meant he was holding her.
Why would someone be holding her?
Who would be holding her?
Her brothers?
Had they been caught in an explosion at a family event? Had the people after them managed to strike when they were all together?
No.
That wasn't right.
They’d found the people responsible for framing her mom and stepdad as traitors. Monique. She had a sister now. Her biological dad was dead. Shot by her own hand.
Then who else would be carrying her?
Dragon?
Snippets floated through her mind. Running through the forest, someone chasing her, pinned against a tree trunk. Pain screaming through her shoulders, blood smearing her wrists. Filled to perfection, that pain had turned to pleasure, giving her the most powerful orgasm of her life. Soft words, gentle touches, tending wounds, shampooing hair, tucking her into bed. Aftercare to soothe away any lingering pain.
Everything she needed with the one person she’d always known could give it to her.
But this wasn't Dragon.
This person didn't hold her gently, and he was muttering something about more trouble than it was worth, and if he hadn't found the sister, he would have just left them all behind, but now he was going to insist on triple what the original price had been.
Sister?
Monique was there?
No, that didn't make any sense. Why would Monique be with her right now when she was … running from someone? Hiding from someone? In danger from someone?
The someone with an arm wrapped around her waist, dragging her along with him? This someone’s arm was digging painfully into her ribs. Not the good kind of pain, not the kind she craved, this just hurt, and she moaned before she could stop herself.
For some reason, it seemed important that the someone think she was unconscious.
They stopped moving, and she allowed all her body weight to drop against the arm holding her upright. Another muttered curse, but then they were moving again.
Light danced haphazardly around, and Cassandra knew that meant her eyes were open if she could see it. Without moving and alerting the person carrying her that she was awake, she tried to catch glimpses of her surroundings, but all she could see were more piles of what looked like rubble.
It wasn't until a brush of icy cold air touched her skin that everything snapped into place.
Sister didn't mean Monique, the man who had her wasn't talking about her sister, he was talking about the sister of the man responsible for the experimental drugs Dragon and his team had been given. After drugging both her and Rose, he must now be carrying them from the building.
If he got them away from there it would all be over.
Their chances of escape were virtually zero.
Pausing briefly, the mercenary dragged in several ragged breaths before moving again. He’d been in the building when the explosives went off, which meant he had to be injured too. Plus, Rose had wrestled with him, so she might have inflicted some more injuries. Enough to give her a chance at doing something?
Cassandra remembered Rose’s slurred words warning her that the man had drugged her, and she remembered the prick of the needle piercing her own skin. Yet she wasn't unconscious. Not fully anyway. Rose must be though because there was no peep from her, and now that there was more light, she could just see another pair of feet being dragged along the ground as the man carried them one in each arm.
The man was carrying them across a parking lot now.
Away from the building.
Away from Dragon and the others.
