Page 57 of Forged in Peril

To walk down the street like she used to do, back when the world seemed a whole lot brighter, back when–

She felt a tight grip closing around her upper arm, her stream of thoughts rushing to a halt.

She tried to turn, but she couldn’t.

Whoever held her was strong.

It was a man. That was all she knew. She tried to squirm away, hoping for even a brief glance at him, but his fingers were like a vice around her bicep. He didn’t even seem to be struggling.

Panic welled in her chest, her heart racing, thumping again and again.

She was stuck. Helpless. Weak. Just like she had been that night.

No.

It was different. This time, there were people around, people who would step in.

She opened her mouth to scream, but she never got the chance.

“Scream and you’re dead,” came a voice, dangerously quiet.

She felt a hard object being jammed into the small of her back.

She swallowed the bile that had risen into the back of her throat.

It was a gun. It had to be.

He shoved her forward, suspending her weight effortlessly as she tripped over an uneven piece of sidewalk paving.

“Move,” the man said, his voice a whisper in her ear. “Now. And look natural.”

She had no choice but to comply, forcing her feet to move one after the other.

As she walked, she tried to take in her surroundings, desperate for anyone or anything that might help her to break free.

There was a white van she didn’t recognize parked a few doors up from the unmarked side entrance.

She had little doubt it was where he was going to take her.

She turned to the office, praying she’d see one of her colleagues in one of the few smaller windows at this side of the building.

It was lunch. Most of the staff would be out, or in the cafeteria, which was on the other side of the first floor.

Still, there would be a couple of security guys nearby. There had to be, and surely the man breathing down the back of her neck knew it, too.

He just didn’t care, and that terrified her almost as much as the gun pressed into her spine.

CHAPTER

EIGHTEEN

CAMERON

Cameron sat at a red light, ignoring the two teenage girls who were pointing and staring at the company-owned Maserati he was currently driving. He’d wanted to show D&P that he meant business, but now that the meeting had finally ended, he was eager to trade the ostentatious vehicle for his familiar green Jeep.

He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel as a stream of cars continued to pass in front of him. He’d already had to cancel the client meeting he’d intended to attend, which meant an even busier day tomorrow.

Despite his efforts, the whole thing had been nothing but a waste of time.

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