Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 70518 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70518 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
I was sweating and covered in a thin layer of flour when I realized after about an hour that I hadn’t told Sawyer where I was.
“Hey, I need to let my brother know I’m here,” I said to Mario. “Is that okay?”
“Of course.” He lowered his brows, studying my wool sweater. “Hey, do you want a T-shirt to change into?”
I laughed as I wiped my forearm across my brow. “More than anything.”
He found a gray “Morelli Brothers” T-shirt in the back, and I changed before sending a quick text to my brother, then got back to baking bread. It was a few minutes after noon when things finally started to slow down.
“Lucy, go get some lunch,” Luigi said. “Great job this morning.”
“Thanks.” I took off the apron I’d been wearing all morning. “Is there a place close by that’s good for picking up a sandwich?”
“We provide lunch. Unless you want something gluten vegan whatever.” He rolled his eyes. “But if a good deli sandwich and some amazing salt and vinegar chips will do, just go make a plate in the break room. Lunch is half an hour.”
“Thanks.”
It was nice to be part of something again. I’d been bored a lot at Sawyer’s house, and now that he was doing better, I didn’t need to be there all the time anymore.
In the break room, I met several other employees and filled out some employment paperwork after I’d eaten a roast beef sandwich. The break room was decked out with news articles about the Morelli Brothers bakery, and I discovered that Mario was actually a decorated war hero.
“Can you come back tomorrow?” Luigi asked me when I returned to the huge, open work area.
“Sure, what time?”
He chuckled. “Whenever you want. We’re so understaffed we’ll take anything.”
“You tell me when, and I’ll be here.”
“Could you do five a.m.? Until about one p.m.?”
“Sure.”
He grinned. “Great. We’re so happy to have you on board, Lucy. You fit right in here.”
I left the bakery a few hours later feeling light. On the walk to my car, I texted Kon.
Lucy: I got a job! At Morelli Brothers bakery. I hope you find the smell of cookies sexy. I’ll tell you all about it later. xoxo
The bakery had been full of holiday spirit—literally. I’d swept large piles of red and green sprinkles from the floor before leaving. Tomorrow Maria was going to show me how to decorate cookies, and I looked forward to doing something other than baking bread for my entire shift.
When I got to Sawyer’s car, I pushed the button on the key fob to unlock it and opened the door. I didn’t make it inside, though, because I was pulled backward and a hand was clamped over my mouth.
My heart hammered as I fumbled with my pepper spray. I held it over my head and pressed the button, but it was knocked from my hand.
I already had two massive arms wrapped around me, so that hand meant there was more than one person. My heart sank. Like last time, I kicked and writhed and tried everything in my power to get free, but this guy was much bigger and stronger than the last one.
Within seconds, I was tossed into the back of a van, where two men waited. I sucked in a breath, desperate for air now that there was no hand over my mouth, and the van’s doors slammed behind me.
It started moving immediately.
“Don’t try to get smart,” one of the men said. “Give me your hands and this will all go easier.”
I sighed heavily, about to give in when the other man slapped me across the face hard enough to make my head spin.
“That’s for what you did to my hand, bitch.” He took off his dark ski mask and I recognized him as the man who had attacked me in the alley.
“That’s right,” I held his gaze. “You’re the scary guy who hurts senior citizens.”
The other man gave him a confused look. “What did you do?”
“Shut the fuck up and tie her hands.”
The first guy scoffed. “Don’t forget who’s in charge here. It’s not you. You botched this last time.”
“Fuck off.”
“Don’t hit her again,” the first man said. “You know our orders.”
Were they not supposed to hurt me? That gave me a shred of hope. I didn’t know if Nate had told these guys to bury me alive in a deep hole somewhere or to bring me to him.
Either way, I was screwed. The thought of a painful death sent me into a complete panic, though. I had so much to live for.
As I let my hands be tied, I looked around, hoping to find something that could help me.
“Looking for your purse?” the second guy asked me.
“No one calls them purses anymore, asshole. And you should seriously reconsider the length of your mustache.”