Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 77124 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77124 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
“Get her inside,” another voice demanded.
Four hands grabbed my arms and armpits, and I prayed my trusty old bra could keep the damn gun in place as they pulled me toward the back door.
“I can walk,” I snapped, trying to stand as they kept dragging.
“Shut the fuck up,” the man on my left snarled, fingers digging in painfully. I got the feeling he wanted a reaction from me. Which was exactly why I pressed my lips together and focused on my breath. I’d be damned if I let him know how much it hurt where he was grabbing me, how there were likely bruises already starting to form.
Maybe this was when I should have sucked in a breath and screamed bloody murder.
But some part of me was worried that maybe Anthony and Elio were in the house, that they might be lying in wait to ambush these fuckers. And I didn’t want to risk them getting into any sort of trouble if the police rushed into a crime scene, and decided to try to pin it on them.
So I was dragged up the staircase, each step knocking into my knees and shins as I let myself go completely limp, forcing them to carry my dead weight up the steep steps.
Petty?
Maybe.
But exhaustion made for a slower opponent if this came down to a fight. The more I could tire out their muscles, the better the odds would be in my favor.
So they carried my limp self up the stairs, across the back porch, and in through the darkened kitchen.
I expected to be smacked in the face with the scent of bleach, and it was definitely lingering a bit, but the guys must have been airing out the place all day.
On each of my sides, the men seemed completely oblivious to the scent, to the possible ramifications of it.
Unless…
Unless they already knew the house was cleaned up. Because they’d ambushed Anthony, Elio, and Matej already.
My heart seized in my chest, this stabbing, crushing sort of ache that made me want to reach out and rub my skin to try to ease it even as the telltale sting at the backs of my eyes hinted at potential tears.
No.
No.
I refused to believe that Anthony was dead.
At least not without some solid fucking proof.
There was every chance in the world that the men had finished up for the day, turned off the lights, and headed home. Maybe Anthony had found poor Fury and was already looking for me.
Besides, if they knew I was working with Anthony, Elio, and Matej, wouldn’t they want the place lit up, so I could see the men I cared about splayed out across the floor, removing any hope of escape for myself?
As the basement door was thrown open, and the men debated if they should just toss me down them since the stairs were too narrow for all of us to go down in unison, I finally put out my legs.
I was willing to put up with a fair amount of pain just to fuck with these assholes, but these steps were steep and hard as fuck. With nothing but a cinderblock wall at the end that I could crash into. The last thing I needed was to hit my head and pass out.
“Aw, look,” the one behind me sneered, “she wants to go with us,” he said as the other man moved down in front of us, walking sideways to keep an eye on me.
“Think Jan will let us play with her for a while before we slit her throat?” he asked as I stared him down, dead-eyed, refusing to give him the fear he wanted. Even if my heart was thumping a little harder at his words.
I knew that was what would be on their minds. That was what was on every woman’s mind in any situation where they found themselves alone with scary men. Hell, it was what was on our minds just walking down the street. Or enjoying a nice night alone in our homes.
But it wasn’t going to happen.
I still had my gun.
I was going to be alright.
Each step toward the doorway to the other side of the basement made my legs feel more and more like lead.
What would they say when they found Matej gone?
Could I use their confusion to my advantage?
It was just a couple more seconds until I had my answers.
The door opened.
The one man moved forward, flicking on the light as he walked.
And the other man yanked me along with him.
In unison their gazes went to the empty chair, their postures going from confident and in control to panicked.
“Jan!” the one in front called as he panic-ran around the basement, looking in darkened corners like there was anywhere for a grown man to hide. “Jan!” he screamed, louder, his voice pitching higher with panic.