Page 77 of Graveyards & Greed

“Is that a yes?” the other man whispered.

The woman giggled. “Earl, you ain’t been faithful or righteous a day in your life.”

“Shut your mouth, girl,” Terrance snapped. “‘Suffer not a woman, but to be in silence.’ We’ll all get a go at her, boys.”

Terrance continued talking, and I got the feeling it was more for my benefit than Earl’s. “She’ll be nothing but bleeding, broken bones and carved up flesh by the time we get done with her. It’s the least we can do since they turned Carver into a maggot-infested pile of shit.”

My stomach roiled again, and I laid my head back. Drakos’s marriage proposal—if I could call it that—floated through my mind, and I admitted to myself that buried deep in my heart, there was a tiny flicker of hope that maybe we could’ve made it work. A few tears ran down my cheek, and a sob worked its way up through the bile in my throat. I stifled it back. There was no way these fuckers were going to hear me cry.

My knee throbbed, and I decided to give myself five seconds to wallow. Okay, maybe another ten seconds after that. Then I sucked in a breath and worked to calm my fear and panic. As Terrance would probably say, the Lord helps those who help themselves. Ruthlessly, I yanked my mind back to my problem and mentally analyzed the situation.

Strange scents worked their way through the SUV. The smell of alcohol, marijuana, and… fried chicken assaulted my nostrils. I wondered if I was hallucinating.

“Don’t backwash in the bottle, Ducky,” the woman whined. “And don’t drink it all. Pass me a piece of chicken.” Had these dumb fucks gone through a fast food drive-thru before kidnapping me? It smelled like Kentucky Fried Chicken and maybe tequila in here.

“Don’t get your panties in a wad. We got the sixteen-piece bucket,” Earl griped.

“Jolie don’t wear panties. She likes goin’ commando,” Ducky drawled out. They discussed the merits of wearing underwear, and the conversation devolved into Earl wanting to know how Ducky knew she didn’t wear panties. The whole conversation grossed me out.

Where were they taking me? After listening to their last church meeting, I didn’t think they were going back to the MC compound. That left one of their homes, or maybe a motel room somewhere. Or the desert, where it would be easy to bury my body after they raped and tortured me.

My thoughts started spiraling again, and I mentally slapped myself. Should I try to fight my way out of this mess when they opened the hatchback, or cooperate and attempt to stall?

Terrance might be a crazy zealot, but he wasn’t stupid. I needed a plan. Angling myself, I rolled over on my knees so I could peek out the back window. We were on the beltway, and it looked like we were heading southbound. I thought about trying to kick out the back window, but it looked solid, and I doubted I could get two good kicks in before Ducky or Earl crawled back here and stopped me.

“What if the Prez finds out we took her?” Ducky asked. I involuntarily ducked down at his voice.

“As long as everyone keeps their mouths shut and we follow the plan, he and his brother will be dead, and I’ll be your new President by the end of the week. You think you can do that? ‘Words kill, words give life. They’re either poison or fruit.’” Terrance sounded like he was giving a sermon. I also wanted to remind him that committing murder violated the Ten Commandments, but duct tape covered my mouth. It was probably a good thing.

Jolie sighed. “It’s too bad you have to take Axel out. I like him.” I heard a smack, and Jolie cried out. “I didn’t mean anything by it. He’s always been decent.”

“He’d never want anything to do with your skanky ass anyway,” Earl muttered.

Glancing up, I studied the mesh barrier between the cargo area and the back seats. It looked like it snapped on. The vehicle was a new model and probably had an electronic key. An idea started forming. After what felt like minutes—or maybe hours—the car slowed down, made several turns, and then stopped. I heard a garage door start opening, and my heart thumped in my throat as I squatted on my toes.

At least I had a slim fighting chance with my hands duct-taped in front of me. It wasn’t a lot, but I’d take it.

Chapter 29

Drakos

Less than three minutes after Sylvie and Alexa walked out of the loft together, Alexa slammed back inside. “They have her,” she breathed heavily.

“Who?” But by the look on her face, I already knew.

“That LeBaron guy and some of his men. They had a young woman with them who pretended she was in trouble to lure Sylvie out.”

That would’ve done it. I pounded down the stairs and threw open the outer door. The street stood empty except for Sylvie’s broken phone.

“Fuuuck!” I bellowed.

“We need Ivan,” Alexa panted. We both turned and ran back inside. Minutes later, we stood in his loft, studying one of his computer screens.

“I put a tracking device on her,” Alexa told us as she called up an app on her phone.

“How’d you manage that, Peaches?” Ivan asked as he typed furiously on his screen.

“I shoved my key ring in her back pocket as she was unlocking the door. It has a tracking device on it. I tend to lose my keys.” She furrowed her brow and studied the app carefully. “The tracker is decent, but it’s not meant to cover long distances. And don’t call me Peaches.” The bite was absent in her tone as she anxiously watched the dot pinpointing her tracker.

---