Page 91 of Property of Player

“This is her. She’s Gage’s daughter,” Molly lies.

I frown and try to talk, but with the tape over my mouth, it’s just moaning sounds vibrating from my nose and throat. I try to shake my head, but I’m lying face down.

“Have your club call her father. He’ll make the deal. Are we good now?” Molly asks.

The man grabs her by the neck. “If you’re trying to pull something, I’ll slit your damn throat.”

“I’m not,” Molly gasps. “It’s his daughter. I swear.”

He releases her with a shove and stalks away.

Molly rubs her throat, then glances down at me with a smirk. “I’ll be long gone before he figures out the truth. You didn’t think I’d let you come between me and Player, did you? Stupid bitch.” She shrugs. “Two birds. One stone. Easy-peasy.”

I moan and thrash, begging her with pleading eyes.

“When Gage gives them what they want, Duck will be done with me. And when Gage signs over his land, Duck will dispose of you.” She laughs. “You don’t think the fucking Depraved Sinners play fair, do you? You’ll be a liability. Can’t have that, honey. Then poor Player will need a shoulder to cry on, and I’ll be there to console him.”

She’s lost her damn mind. Doesn’t she see Gage would never sign over his land without getting his daughter’s freedom first? And where is Cici? Is she being held somewhere?

Duck returns with two men, and they carry me into what looks like a decrepit old warehouse. I’m carried into what appears to be an office. They sit me in an ancient wooden swivel chair and tape me to it with a roll of silver duct tape.

Duck steps back, lifts his phone, and snaps a photo of me. I can only imagine he’ll be sending it to Gage.

I moan and twist, trying to get Duck to remove the tape from my mouth, but he just gives the chair a spin and leaves without taking it off me. I drag my foot to stop the spinning before I get dizzier than I already am.

Scanning the room, I try to figure out where I am. There’s a dusty old calendar on the wall from years ago. It says Good Ride Tire Co. A thick layer of dust coats everything.

I hear a heavy set of metal doors slam shut and then what sounds like a chain being dragged through something. Are they chaining the door shut? Are they leaving me here in this building alone?

What if they don’t come back?

Perhaps even scarier than that thought is what happens if and when they do come back.

They bound my ankles, but I can still scoot across the floor by pushing my toes against the concrete. I only move a few inches, but it’s something. I don’t know how I’ll get the door open, but I inch my way toward it.

Chapter thirty

Player

My father turns the phone toward me.

It’s a picture of Taylor duct-taped to a chair. Relief floods over me. Thank God she’s alive. I want to tear apart whoever did this to her.

More than anything, I blame myself. Guilt weighs heavily on me. I promised to keep her safe, and I failed miserably. She must hate me.

Finally, I tear my eyes from the photo and read the accompanying text.

UNKNOWN: IF YOU WANT TO SEE YOUR DAUGHTER ALIVE AGAIN, YOU’LL TAKE THE OFFER ON YOUR LAND.

Gage looks at me. “I should text them a picture of Cici sitting next to me, the dumb motherfuckers.”

“You can’t do that. The minute they think Taylor is not your daughter, they’ll kill her.”

“Yeah, I know. I just fucking hate this shit.”

Drae leans over my shoulder to peer at the picture. “What’s that in the background?”

“Looks like some kind of warehouse, doesn’t it?” Gage says.