Page 74 of August

Loved him. God, did she ever love him.

She’d fallen in love with him two years ago, and no amount of time, distance, or anger had stifled that. No matter how hard she’d tried, she hadn’t been able to set aside her feelings for him. And if by some chance she got out of this, she’d let him know.

She sucked back a sob and wiped her cheek with her bound hands. The smooth duct tape rubbed her lips. The sensation jolted her from her misery, and she brought the rough, rubbery material to her lips again. Sinking her teeth into the adhesive, she chewed and pulled at the binding.

The men were brutes, but they sure as hell weren’t going to get points for smarts. They’d been in a hurry when they took her to the alleyway behind the building, shoved her in the trunk, and wrapped the duct tape around her wrists—leaving her hands in front of her. Not a wise move on their part. The plasticky taste of glue was heavy in her mouth but she didn’t care. She’d gnaw her freaking hand off if it gave her a shot at survival.

Snap

A small piece of tape ripped. Hope flared inside her with the force of a flashfire, making her almost choke on relief. If she could get her hands free, she might have a fighting chance. Not a large one, considering she didn’t have a weapon, but she had two feet and a heartbeat and would run both to the ground if it killed her.

Taking the flapping piece of tape between her teeth, she yanked on it and pulled her hands away from her.

Riiiiip

A hiccup of euphoria sounded from her throat. She sent out a thank-you prayer. Now all she had to do was scream, fight, and run. She kept the tape stuck to her wrists. Maybe if she pressed her hands together, at first glance it’d appear she was still bound. Shaking her hands to bring blood flow to her extremities, she tried to pay attention to how fast the vehicle was traveling.

Newer vehicles had an emergency latch inside. With any luck, she could open it and draw attention to herself if they were on the highway. But they’d already been driving a good thirty minutes—they could be in the middle of nowhere by now.

The car slowed and made a sharp turn, causing her to roll onto her hip. She grunted and braced her hands against the wall of the trunk so she didn’t hit her head. The vehicle slowed and made another turn, then another.

Either they were deep in the woods or they were in a residential area. Although the road seemed smooth and free of gravel. Where—

The vehicle lurched to a stop and all the saliva evaporated from her tongue. Tears of panic burned her eyes as she scrambled to put her wrists together.

Gigi’s breath rasped in and out of her nose in frantic pants. Her plan to run had just been shot to hell. Without knowing the lay of the land, she was screwed. For all she knew they were in a garage somewhere.

Voices spoke in Spanish and a peal of laughter followed.

Goosebumps broke out on her skin and her flesh turned icy cold. Slow footsteps grew louder. There was no way out of this. Not right now. All she could do was focus on not getting herself killed. The button on the trunk beeped and the metal creaked open.

She pressed her wrists to her thighs as light chased away the cloak of darkness. She blinked rapidly, but before her eyes adjusted, rough hands seized her by her elbows and yanked her out of the trunk. A yelp escaped her lips as she was tossed over a heavyset man’s shoulder.

Her hands were crunched uncomfortably between her abdomen and his back, but at least the loose tape was hidden.

Part of her wanted to fight and struggle. To kick free and make a run for it, but every instinct told her to wait.

She held her breath, biting back the scream that crackled at the back of her throat. Lifting her head, she took in her surroundings. The brute was carrying her out of a detached garage. They’d exited through a man door and now moved through a backyard. The other man followed closely.

Scrap metal and junk littered the tall, unkempt grass. Her assailant carried her over a chipped cement walkway and climbed the rickety steps of a wooden back porch that didn’t have a railing.

The violent taste of hysteria flooded her mouth. “No!” she screamed, bucking and stiffening herself as straight as a pencil to make him lose his grip.

He staggered at the top of the steps, nearly pitching over the side. He reached up and snagged a handful of her hair, snapping her head back and choking off her scream.

Her scalp howled as strands were ripped from their beds. He half carried, half dragged her into the small house, dropped her onto her feet, and slammed the door shut. Before she could take in the tiny kitchen, his fist slammed into her cheek. Gigi’s face whipped to the side and her body followed, connecting hard with the stained yellow linoleum floor.

Pain exploded across her skull and her face flamed.

“Got out of your fucking bindings, bitch.” Another brutal blow to her face. This one connected with her eye. Stars blotted out her vision. Her head lolled and she covered her face with her hands, waiting for another shot that would knock her out.

“Alec,” a voice growled. “Don’t rough up the merchandise.” Heavy footsteps shook the floor beneath her face. Firm hands pulled her to her feet, although not as ruthlessly.

She caught sight of the man’s tattooed face. His mouth was pressed in a grim line. A bandana was tied around his forehead. He was the man who’d tackled Taschen. His eyes held a note of... sympathy? She couldn’t be sure because he edged her ahead of him and down a hallway.

The brutish, heavyset man who’d hit her said something in Spanish that sounded derisive. Gigi quickly scanned the room. The stench of rotting food and urine saturated the walls. Garbage covered the floor and holes chewed through the drywall and doors. If she was a betting gal, her money was on the guy named Alec who’d caused the damage.

“Move,” Bandana Guy hissed. Okay, maybe he wasn’t so friendly.

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