Page 54 of Love & Vendettas

“And?”

“He’s a former bodyguard of Essence Hamilton.”

This ain’t a fucking coincidence.

25 – BAYLEIGH – THE SURPRISE IS ON ME

My head hurts. It’s dark, and my body is aching. Like a criminal, when a police flash bang is tossed into a building, all my senses are stunned at once.

I recall everything in vivid detail as though it were happening in this moment up to the point when that monster knocked me out. That’s why my head hurts. My body is cramped up in a tiny space, creating the aches and discomfort I’m feeling.

But why is it so dark?

I stretch my arms and legs out, only for my feet to kick into something pliable but firm, and my arms hit something hard. My left hand meets cold metal, and my right hand punches into something furry and warm.

Fear slips inside of me as I wonder what that is, but then I quickly realize there’s no room for fear. Not if I want to survive. I need to be focused and clear.

Clarity and quick thinking are the only things that will help me out of my current situation. My body begins rocking, and I listen closely to the sounds around me. The soft hum of an engine and music play around me. The smell of exhaust burns my nostrils.

I’m still in the trunk of a vehicle, and they made the mistake of not securing my hands and feet. I don’t have long, so I have to get busy while I can. Rolling onto my back, I unzip my jeans. Lifting my butt off the bottom of the trunk so that I can get my jeans off, I shove them down just enough to reach my inner right thigh.

Carefully unsheathing the knife that I keep there whenever I go out at night on my own, I lay it beside me, pull my jeans back up, and zip them. I don’t often wear the knife, but I knew that Zayn and I would be out and about late tonight. Without Zaire by my side, I am always careful to protect myself.

My man preferred that I always have armed security with me, but I balked at that idea early on. It drew too much attention, limited my freedom, and made it difficult just to change my plans on a whim.

For the first time in a long time, I wish that I had listened to him. I usually listen to Zaire on most things, but not this one.

Although I’m not sure that would have helped. There were four of those men, and I’m sure that they’ve been watching me and my place. If they had suspected that I had an armed guard, I’m sure they would have prepared for that too.

I have no idea how long I’ve been knocked out or how far we’ve traveled. I slip the knife into the right side of my jeans against my hip and then tuck my sleeveless sweater back around it. I lay still in the confines of the car.

I count the number of times we stop and how long we stop.

I listen to all the sounds around us. We’re still in a populated area based on the numerous car engines, the music from other cars around us, and other noises that I hear.

After five minutes, we come to a stop again, but this time the engine shuts off. I remain curled in a fetal position similar to the one that I woke up in.

I hear two men talking, and one of them is the one who held me at gunpoint throughout the ordeal. The other one’s voice I don’t recognize. I can’t hear their words clearly, just their voices.

A second car pulls to a stop, and two doors close and open. The clicking of a lock alerts me that the trunk is about topop open. The light isn’t that bright, but it’s there. I can see it through my closed lids. We haven’t traveled very far because the sun has the same level of brilliance it had when I stepped from my shop.

Two arms lift me and heave me over someone’s shoulder. I pray that he doesn’t bump against my hip because, for all the tucking that I did, if he feels me carefully enough, he will feel this knife on my hip.

In the best-case scenario, I’ll get injured myself. In the worst-case scenario, I’ll get killed.

They laugh and joke about a boxing match that they’re about to watch while they walk away from the car. Someone is behind the man carrying me, because I feel his energy, so I don’t bother to open my eyes.

We walk up a long flight of stairs, and then I hear a door open.

Someone demands, “Flick on the lights.”

No sooner than the lights come on than I hear the lead man say, “I’ll be back. I gotta take a piss.”

I hear footsteps on what sound like metal stairs.

“Hey, I’m about to heat that chicken from earlier. Anybody else want any?” another voice calls.

“Your hungry ass ever stop eating?” the man carrying me asks.

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