Page 81 of Her Intense Protector

Samantha woke up at the man yelling. It sounded like Ajax. She should have aimed for his head.

She didn’t open her eyes, she didn’t want to alert anyone that she was awake. She really wanted to move because her hair and cheek were sticky with throw-up slime, but she kept still. Her arm burned like fire.

“Please don’t kill me,” somebody pleaded.

“Harry, Mr. Anders isn’t going to kill you.”

“Oh God no,” Harry shrieked. “Don’t let him do that to me. Please. I have money. Just let me go,” he blubbered.

“You knew when you signed up with his organization what the consequences were. He needs to make an example out of you.”

“No!” he screeched.

“Shut him up,” another man spoke up with a husky rasp.

She heard the sound of a fist meeting flesh. She continued to keep her eyes closed. Something soft and heavy landed on her. She screamed, her arm exploding with pain.

“You awake, bitch?”

She opened her eyes to see Lonnie, with a really thick bandage around his neck. He must have been the one with the raspy voice.

“Answer me,” he whispered.

Samantha stayed silent. It was her own little way to revolt. He kicked Harry out of the way then nudged her bad arm. She whimpered. “Talk, bitch, or I’ll press harder.” His whisper was evil.

“What do you want me to say?”

“Are you looking forward to this afternoon?” He laughed, then started coughing.

“Should I be?”

“Oh yeah. You should definitely look forward to it. I am. Snotty bitch like you will get her comeuppance.”

“Quit it, Lonnie,” Ajax said. “We have to get some of these crates moved, you know how Mr. Anders likes things. Everybody in a circle.”

“I’m injured,” Lonnie whined.

Right then and there, Samantha realized she didn’t really like whiny men.

There you go, still with the sense of humor, you’ve got this.

She felt tears forming.

I really don’t have this.

She wanted to cry. She was so scared. She wanted to beg for Ezio to find her. To save her.

* * *

Ezio went to the next place on his list, an old clothing factory on the outskirts of Richmond that had to have been shut down twenty years ago. He parked behind a razor-wire fence near the southwest side of the building.

“Shit.”

Ezio tapped onto his mic. “I’m at the fourth location. It’s an abandoned clothing manufacturing plant. It’s got to be at least thirty-thousand square feet. Anybody done with their sites who can help me check this out?”

“I’m done,” Asher said. “My two places didn’t pan out.”

“We’ve done our two, but Kane found another one that didn’t show up before. It’s a warehouse near the harbor. We’re going to check that out.”