Page 51 of Tactically Acquired

The car jolted to a stop and I rolled back, knocking my head on the back end of the trunk. I winced in pain, still tender from the last time I got knocked around. I was going to have a serious talk with them about the nice way to kidnap someone.

If I got out of here in one piece.

Footsteps echoed off the ground outside and I had a split-second decision to make. Did I pretend to be knocked out or surprise them with a karate kick to the nuts? My brain couldn’t handle the never-ending possible outcomes, and before I knew it, the trunk was being opened.

I twisted and shoved my foot out, screaming with all my might as my foot connected with the man’s balls. He immediately fell to the ground, clutching his nuts as I swung my legs over the edge and climbed out. My head swam as I stumbled around, trying to right myself and figure out where the hell to go.

Run.

I heard shouting—saw the vague outlines of men rushing toward me as my head spun—and then I took off running. Except, I was missing a shoe, which would have been a good thing to realizebeforeI jumped out of the trunk. I hobbled along the ground, trying desperately to get away with my one heel seriously slowing me down. So, it was no surprise to me when I was captured from behind, hauled into the air off my feet, and spun around.

I was not going down like this. After all the shit that I’d been dealt lately, this was not how it ended for me. I was supposedto be on vacation. And as terrified as I was, Baldy was right. Fighting back was better than doing nothing.

“No! I am not going with you!” I shouted, trying to kick him with my one shoe.

“Lady, shut the fuck?—”

I finally made contact with his shin, but it wasn’t enough to escape. If anything, his grip tightened on me, making pain shoot through my battered ribcage. My fighting was useless. The man charged toward a small one-story house, carrying me across the threshold as if I weighed nothing.

“You really have no manners!”

“Complain to someone else,” he muttered.

Another man grabbed a chair and dragged it over to the center of the room. I already knew what was coming before I was set down.

“No, you’ve got to be kidding me! You are not doing this to me!”

“Strap her down.”

“Do not strap me down. I refuse! I will not be strapped down. You can’t make me!” I knew what would happen if they strapped me down. I’d seen enough of my own movies.

The other man pulled out duct tape and stretched it across my lips, sealing it tight with a hard smack. I glowered at him, killing him with my eyes. When I got out of here, I was going to make him pay for this so hard.

My hands were the first to be tied to the chair, then my legs. It was like they thought I was a serious flight risk. Which I would be if I had any idea of where I was or if I had more than one shoe. This was turning out to be the worst kidnapping ever.

“I’ll call the boss. Keep an eye on her.”

“Like she’s going anywhere,” the man who dragged me in here laughed.

I had to figure something out. There was no way I could sit here with tape over my mouth the whole time. I would suffocate like this. Obviously, I wouldn’t actually suffocate, but this was torture, and I knew because I had done it in the movies.

The movies.

Yes, I just had to think of my characters again. I couldn’t snap any ties like I had in the van. I was tied with rope and had no knives or scissors on me, so that was definitely out. I glanced around the room, searching for anything that would help me, but sadly, not a single weapon was in sight. The house was clean.

Too clean.

As in, nobody had lived here in a very long time. Bare bones furniture, not a picture on the wall or a lamp on a table—it was as if this place was about to go on the market.

And if that was the case, there wouldn’t be any knives in the kitchen either.

I was shit out of luck in the help department. I was going to have to get out of this alone. Shit. Yes, shit. I had one thing on my side that couldn’t be helped. It would buy me my freedom and possibly save my life. I just had to act at the right time.

I started wiggling in my chair, hoping to draw attention to myself. It took a few minutes as the man pointedly ignored me. Not even the scrape of the chair got his attention. All he did was stare out that stupid window. But by the time five minutes passed, he couldn’t ignore me any longer. I was making so much racket that even the other man outside could hear me.

“Goddamnit, what the hell do you want?” he shouted, stomping over to me.

I mumbled behind the tape, but of course, he couldn’t understand me.

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