Page 67 of Midnight Torment

My heart fell into my stomach and the bottom collapsed out of my world.

She was gone and there was not a fucking thing I could do to change that. All I knew was that I needed to work fast to save her before I lost the only light in my world.

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Chapter Twenty-Three

Megan

Everything happened in slow motion and high speed all at once. I saw the woman as she lunged forward and pushed me into the cubicle, but I could do nothing to stop her. She was already plunging the needle into me as I brought my hands up to fight her off.

“No.” I screamed the word in my head, but my lips were already not working as the drugs polluted my system and left me scrambling to work my limbs. My thoughts were crystal clear, but with the greatest will in the world, there was no moving my arms and legs.

“I have acquired the asset,” she said. “Send in the cart.”

I was manhandled into a cleaning cart and pushed out of the toilets. I knew that Jordan would be standing somewhere outside since he’d been there every time I emerged from the toilets, but my lips refused to open.

I was lifted and carried, but I couldn’t see. It was the noise of the rotor blades that told me that I was in a helicopter. Terror pierced deep inside me, and vomit crawled up my throat. I wanted to scream, to plead, to find my voice so that I could figure out a way back to Jordan. None of my classes had prepared me for the swiftness of the attack or the drugs that paralysed me.

I recited the prayer over and over again in my head that we had been taught in primary school so long ago. That prayer had found me every time I had been lost. It had been in my head the night I sat in our room in Twilight and hoped Jordan would return to me. Some women saw him as a prize because of his looks and wealth. To me he was a lifeline, the only man who made me feel that I possessed value and beauty.

I succumbed to terror and zoned out for a while, returning to my dire situation to find the noise of the helicopter had ceased and there was the quiet hum of a different type of engine.

How was Jordan ever going to find me?

That was when the next phase of my emotional spiral hit me. Who had taken me? Why had they taken me? And what were they planning on doing with me?

The world was a dark and dangerous place, filled with maniacs who pretended to be normal in the light of day, but who wanted to destroy and subjugate just for their own pleasure. My life may not have been great, but it had been mine and I had been able to make my own decisions.

Now my power had been stolen from me. I focused on my body, trying to find a way to make it work. If I could move, I could fight—that was what Jordan and Caine had taught me.

Seconds turned to minutes until I lost track of time, but eventually I was able to move my fingertips. Just the index fingers at first, but the more I flexed them, other fingers joined in. Then I worked on my toes, concentrating on the big toe first, until I was able to bend my foot.

My mouth was as dry as a camel’s ass in the Sahara, and my head thumped since there seemed to be a woodpecker hammering away inside it. I rarely even took a paracetamol, never mind whatever it was that they injected me with. My right eye flickered open for me to try and determine where I was, and the discovery didn’t improve my chances of escape. I appeared to be in a private jet with cream and shiny black décor. The cream leather seating was spaced out and the bar and entertainment centre ran along an entire side of the jet.

I heard a noise, and closed my eyes, pretending to still be fully under the influence of the drugs in my system.

“We’re en route and have eyes at the airport. Jordan is still there. There is no movement from Xavier’s home,” a female voice said before pausing as if listening to the person at the other end of the phone call. “She is still sleeping. I gave her enough to knock her out for another few hours.”

She sighed and walked past me. “Are you sure this is the best way to bring him to you? Why not take the grandfather since he’s the only family he has?” She paused again. “Yes, I know he was supposed to be dead.”

My breath stuck in my chest when the woman stopped in front of me and knelt down. “After all these years of him ignoring all the beautiful socialites throwing themselves at him, what is it about this woman that has Jordan tied in knots?”

A menacing, masculine laugh echoed from her phone. I couldn’t make out what he said, but that laugh was enough to make nausea creep up the back of my throat. Whoever this mystery man was had tried to kill Jordan’s grampa, he’d tried to have me abducted in the hospital, and had succeeded at the airport. Why did he hate Jordan so much, and wanted his attention? From listening to the men around Jordan, no one wanted to be on the receiving end of his attention.

“I don’t know,” the woman said. “There are a lot of beautiful women out there. Why her and why now?”

They seemed to have been watching Jordan, and this was the moment that I finally realised why he walked away three years ago. He kept moving because of the target on his back. I slowed him down, making him weak, and allowing his enemies to get close to him.

Shame pierced deep into my chest because I knew that Jordan would follow me, I knew that he would risk his own life to save mine. That was who he was and what he did. He sacrificed himself to keep others safe and happy.

I was a fucking idiot to have ever doubted it before.

A wave of nausea crested over me, and I couldn’t suppress the groan that escaped.

“Hold on, Dante, I think she’s wakening up.” I froze and tried to hold my breath, but my captor loomed over me, poking me on the shoulder. “Can you hear me?”

She shook my arm when I didn’t reply or respond, her efforts intensifying and sending ripples through me.

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