Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 78511 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78511 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
We’re shot at again as Elio swerves around other cars, trying to lose our attackers.
“It’s not the bratva,” he says with dead certainty. “Don’t end the call. Put your phone in your pocket or shirt. Try to hide the device from the fuckers as long as possible, so I can hear what’s happening,” Misha orders, then he shouts, “Alek, Armani, I need you!”
“Misha,” I whimper as the SUV swerves again. “I’m scared.”
“I know, krasivaya, but you’re a strong woman. Remember your training. Don’t go down without a fight.”
I nod like crazy, even though I doubt my training will do me any good.
The SUV shudders and lurches as something slams into us, and I scream, “I love you!”
“Stay calm and focused,” Misha shouts. “I’m coming for you. Hide the phone. Now!”
I shove the device between my breasts, then grab Abbie’s hand. Our eyes lock for a moment before there’s a hard slam into the back of the SUV. The vehicle lifts into the air for a second before it swerves badly and flips over.
Abbie lets out a blood-curdling scream, and her hand is ripped from mine as I’m slammed against the roof and thrown into a world of darkness.
My mind is a groggy mess as I shake my head.
My body aches everywhere, and I let out a groan as I pry my eyes open.
What the hell?
I only get a glimpse of a man fiddling with a camera before my head rolls back, and I stare at chains secured to a ceiling.
I hear someone speaking in what I think is Japanese or another Asian language. The words are short and angry, and it clears some of the fog from my mind.
My head rolls back, and the man comes into view again. He shouts something in his language, then I watch as he turns my handbag upside down, spilling the contents over the floor.
Suddenly, flashes of the attack and accident bombard me, sending icy chills of terror through my body. The realization that I’ve been taken is still hitting when I start to struggle.
The restraints around my wrists dig into my skin, drawing a whimper from me.
Looking up, I stare at the shackles secured to the chain. My feet are barely able to touch the ground, my shoulders already aching from however long I’ve been stuck in this position.
Abbie!
Wildly I glance around me, but I see only the man who doesn’t seem bothered by me as he rips my handbag apart, a bucket, and something that looks like a workbench or shelf.
My eyes dart toward the opening, and I see a train.
Am I being held at some kind of train facility?
Just as I think the thoughts, the man’s eyes flick to me, then he stalks closer.
When he yanks off my high heels, I shout, “Don’t fucking touch me!”
I start to struggle in earnest as he pats my legs, and I try to knee the fucker. He dodges my poor attempt, and as his hands settle on my hips, I wiggle like I have a million fire ants crawling over my skin.
“Get your hands off me,” I growl, panic flooding my veins.
Still unbothered by my attempts to stop him, he grabs my shirt and rips it open.
The phone.
Shit.
He rips the device from between my breasts, drops it to the floor, and crushes it beneath his boot.
Misha.
Intense relief ripples through me, knowing he has my location and might already be on his way to save me.
He’ll find me.
Keep calm.
Where’s Abbie?
“My friend,” I say as the man walks back to the camera. “Where is she?”
What happened to Elio and the other guards?
“Hey,” I shout. “Where’s my friend and the people I was with?”
“Dead,” he mutters before he walks to the edge of the container, jumping to the gravel below.
Dead.
It takes a minute before the word sinks in like a ten-ton stone.
Abbie’s dead?
I gasp, and my face instantly crumbles, but no tears fall. I’m too shocked for tears.
No.
A cry bursts from me, and I yank at the chains like a mad woman.
I’d feel it if she was gone. Right?
Unable to accept that Abbie didn’t make it, I shake my head wildly. “No.” My throat strains with intense sorrow. “No, she’s alive. He just said that to scare me. She’s alive.” I suck in a painful breath, the sorrow growing and darkening until it feels like it’s going to tear right through me. “I’d know if she was gone,” I whimper.
The loss of my soulmate hits so hard that it rips a devastated scream from me.
Memories of her flash through my mind. Her smile. Her sass. The unconditional way she loved me.
Ra-Ra.
“Jesus.” A dry sob escapes me. “No.”
It feels like I’m losing my mind when three men climb into the container.
I gasp for air, my chest threatening to explode from all the sorrow filling me.
One of the men goes to the camera while two stand by the opening.