I don’t know where this cop is taking me but it’s not the police station. When he takes another turn, I recognize it as the back route to an old industrial corridor. There aren’t many houses around that area, which means less chance anyone will respond if I scream for help. That realization is terrifying. My heart hammers in my chest so hard I can feel myself getting lightheaded.
I force myself to stop pulling against the cuffs because it’s rubbing my skin raw. I try to think of a way out of this situation. My best chance is when he stops and removes my cuffs. I can knee him in the groin and run like hell. That’s the best idea my terrified, scattered mind can come up with.
Sure enough, I look up and see him pulling into a narrow road between two falling down warehouse buildings. The pavement is cracked and we go over a pothole so deep it almost knocks me off balance. Weaver pulls down the alley about thirty yards and stops.
There’s another vehicle waiting. A dark SUV with the engine running. Bran is leaning against the driver’s side door. He’s somehow managed to trade out his motorcycle for an SUV.
Everything clicks into place with the sickening realization that this is nothing more than a good old-fashioned set up. Weaver is a dirty cop and Bran is…I don’t even know what.
My gramps warned me that the most dangerous trap is the one you don’t see coming. It’s true that I never suspected that I would be abducted when I decided to go with this officer. I wish that I had been more guarded and suspicious of this lawman. I should have trusted my gut. I should have told this baby cop to go talk to my husband.
Weaver gets out, comes around to my door and opens it. He waits for Bran to join us.
“Hey, Nova,” he says in a casual, friendly tone as he approaches. He’s acting like we’re a couple of friends meeting up for lunch instead of one of my abductors.
“You absolute piece of shit!” I say, raising my voice. “Whatever in the hell it is you want from me, the answer is no.”
A strange expression flashes across his face. It’s a cross between mild amusement and contempt. When Weaver hands Bran the key to my cuffs, I realize how screwed I am. He leans down, uncuffs my hands and tries to pull me out of the cruiser.
I turn on him in a flash, slapping him hard across the face. He grabs my arm and jerks me out of the vehicle, complaining, “You don’t have to be such a nasty bitch all the time, Nova.”
I try to pull away and run but Bran throws me face first against the side of the cruiser and forces my hands behind my back. Weaver helps him cuff me again, even though I’m struggling with every bit of strength I can muster. When he begins dragging me towards his SUV, I plant my feet, forcing him to drag me.
Weaver comments, “Better be careful, Bran. She’s a feisty one.”
Ignoring him, Bran says through gritted teeth, “You can either get in the fuckin’ SUV or I can knock you the fuck out and dump you in the back. Your choice.”
I let him push me along because I don’t particularly like the idea of being knocked out and put in the back. I spit out, “You’ve been planning this the whole time. I knew there wassomething shady about you. The way you kept circling around me, getting close, acting all sugar sweet and asking where Mica was all the time, threw up a dozen red flags. Your nose was in everything that didn’t concern you.”
“Yeah, spying was my job. In order to get good intel, you have to stay alert and stick close to the officers.”
“I thought you were working off your punishment for spying for Viper. You must not be too bright to make the same mistake twice. Mica is going to burn this whole county down looking for me and all the evidence is going to lead right to your doorstep.”
“So far, Mica hasn’t been able to stop me from burning your shit to the ground,” Bran says snidely. “So, forgive me if I’m not shaking in my boots.”
Bran opens the back seat passenger side of the SUV, puts his hand on the top of my head, and pushes me in. Before I can get turned around, he slams the door. I make a grab for the door handle before I realize there’s a man in the back seat I don’t recognize. He grabs my cuffed wrists and pulls me the rest of the way across the seat without saying a word.
Bran gets in the front, starts the engine, and peels out, leaving Weaver standing in his wake.
I don’t fight him because I know I can’t win. I’m saving my fight for when I have a chance of escape. Maybe if I act docile, they’ll think they’ve intimidated me into submission. That will make it easier when the moment is right to make a break for it.
With my hands cuffed behind me, I can’t reach the phone that’s in my back pocket. The man beside me has onehand clamped around my upper arm and isn’t messing about. I hate that I’ve gotten myself into this situation. I’m also scared because I don’t know what these men want with me.
What I do have is grit, determination and Mica’s voice running in a loop in the back of my mind telling me that I’m smart and stronger than I know. I look through the front window and start memorizing everything we pass. We turn off at the exit for Dead Man’s Pass. I know that doesn’t necessarily mean we’re going there. We keep taking turns, two rights and a left, until we’re on a gravel road.
Through it all, Bran is scrolling on his phone, sending messages to some unknown person. My anxiety builds as I think about all the ways this could go really badly for me. Maybe they’ll ask for a ransom Mica can’t afford to pay, traffic me or heaven forbid, sell my organs. I hear there’s good money to be made in shady shit like that.
“Do you have an ETA on the prez?” the driver asks nervously?
“He’s already there and impatient for his delivery.”
“He’s going to want to see her himself,” the driver adds quietly. “He’s got something big planned for this one.”
This is when it hits me that Bran is just the middleman. He said he was spying again. Now, he’s taking me to some club president. Bran has been taking orders this entire time. All the creepy lurking about, the casual conversation and keeping tabs on everyone has been part of a greater plan.
The vehicle slows as the tires hit a pothole, sharp and uneven. At least they aren’t going over them at full speed likeWeaver did. When the vehicle stops, we’re in the middle of nowhere. The door opens and the man sitting beside me uses his grip around my arm to drag me out so fast that I stumble. I’m barely able to get my legs under me before they shove me forward with one big hand pressing between my shoulders. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll do what we say and not cause trouble. Now, move.”
I do as he says because resisting would be a futile effort. There are two of them and one of me. I manage to keep my head up, and when a camp comes into view, my eyes jump around trying to figure out what I’m seeing. There is a campfire with several guys sitting around drinking beer. I can’t see the back of their cuts, so I don’t know what club they’re with. There is trash scattered about and the closer we get, I see the gaping mouth of a cave jutting out of a rocky outcropping.
