Page 71 of Stolen Hearts

A sharp sting jabbed the side of her neck.

Her gasp was strangled, and her hand flew to the spot just below her ear.

Pain exploded like fire through her skin, riding along her veins. Her gaze fixed on Justin’s face and his image began to swim in her vision.

Her knees buckled.

She tried to twist to see him, but the edges of the room blurred.

“What…what did you do?” she rasped, barely a whisper.

Justin replaced the cap on the syringe he just jabbed her with and slipped it into his pocket. He studied her like a problem he was finally solving.

“Nothing you need to worry about.” His voice was too calm. Too smooth. “We’re just going to take a little trip.”

Her brain scrambled in a fog of static. She reached out to hold on to the filing cabinet, but her arms turned to rubber. She stared down at her hands, unable to feel them. They weren’t connected to her body anymore.

She was floating.

Her legs buckled, and she collapsed to the floor. “I can’t go. I…can’t.” She began crawling in the slowest of slow motion, trying to drag herself to the door.

His footsteps were slow and precise as he approached. “In another minute or two, you won’t even be able to talk.”

Terror clenched her throat. She tried to scream, but it came out as a whimper, no louder than Navy’s sleepy sighs. Her vision spiraled inward. Tunneled. Black spots swelled. Her thoughts collapsed into a vortex of panic.

Navy.

Denver.

Help me.

Justin crouched beside her, checked her pulse, and then hauled her up like a sack of laundry.

She couldn’t fight him. Her limbs were useless. Her head lolled.

The world twisted sideways as he dragged her to her feet. Somehow, she was able to stand again. She hardly felt her feet, let alone the new burst of panic in her chest when he propelled her to the rear exit no one ever used. A vehicle waited. Her mind struggled to take in the details, but there was nothing to remember. The SUV seemed too nondescript.

He opened the passenger door and urged her inside, buckling her in like she was a child.

“Wouldn’t want you bumping around back here,” he muttered, almost thoughtfully.

She jerked her head, trying to bite him, but she moved too slow. Her jaw didn’t move.

Tears streamed from her eyes, but she couldn’t even feel them on her cheeks.

The hum of the engine was the last thing she heard clearly before her body gave in, the blackness swallowing her whole.

When she woke again, everything was wrong.

The hum was deeper, vibrating through her bones. The seat beneath her wasn’t that of a car—it was cushioned and narrow. She blinked like her eyelids were weighted, and it felt like it took ages for her vision to adjust.

The sound wasn’t coming from a car engine.

It was a plane.

Her gaze moved sluggishly around the empty cabin. No one else was onboard.

Her breathing hitched.

---