Page 95 of Dark Wolf Soul
Ramsey snatches the phone from my hand before I can hit the button.
I stare at him, fear replacing suspicion. “What are you—”
“No calls,” he says in a voice I’ve never heard him use before.
“Ramsey, what’s going on? Where are you taking me?”
His expression is tight as he grips the wheel. “Look, I’m sorry, okay?”
But he doesn’t sound sorry, only desperate.
“For what?” I press. “What’s going on?”
We pull to a sudden stop, and I look over just as Ramsey says, “He only wants to talk to you; he swore to me.”
I don’t have to ask who Ramsey is referring to. Outside my window, I spot a familiar alley. It’s long and narrow, running the length of the block full of buildings, each one tall enough to scrape the sky except for a squat, two-story restaurant smack in the middle of the block. There’s no sign back here, but I remember escaping through this very alley just a couple of days ago.
Dead ahead is Altobello’s.
“Ramsey, what the hell are you doing?” I ask, heart thudding now.
His voice is grim as he says, “Get out of the car.”
“Ramsey,” I try again.
He squeezes his eyes shut like he’s in pain. “I didn’t have a choice, all right?”
“Did they threaten you? Grey can protect you. He can—”
“Get out of the fucking car!”
29
LEXI
Fully aware of just how screwed I am, I do what Ramsey says and get out of the car. He doesn’t follow like I expect him to, though, and the moment I realize I’m alone—that idiot thought I was stupid enough to think I’d just walk willingly down this alley and into that back door—I run. My shoes are a hindrance, so I kick them off, sprinting past pedestrians as I flee blindly toward the safety of the main road. As if safety exists anywhere in this city. My sense of direction is immediately lost, but I keep going, knowing I need to get as far from here as I possibly can before—
A hand grabs me from behind, lifting me clear off my feet.
I scream, kicking wildly against the solid wall of muscle currently holding me hostage in an iron grip. The pressure around my ribs is so tight it’s hard to breathe, but I manage another scream anyway. A hand clamps over my mouth, and I catch the scent of a musky cologne, the scent so strong he might as well have bathed in the stuff.
Dom.
I’d know his version of overdone luxury anywhere.
“Shut up, and stop fighting,” he orders, his irritated voice in my ear confirming it’s him.
With a hand over my mouth and another around my waist, he holds my back against his chest as he carries me down the street toward the front of the restaurant. The front doors loom like the gates of Hell, and I have the distinct feeling that, if I go through them, I’ll never come out again.
Fear grips me then.
Redoubling my efforts, I manage to land a kick that makes Dom grunt, but it’s not enough to loosen his hold. Around me, pedestrians stare as they pass, but no one stops him or even comments on the kidnapping taking place right before their eyes.
For some reason, this is the moment I realize how different Indigo Hills really is from the rest of the world. It’s not about wolf shifters or anything supernatural; it’s this—regular citizens witnessing an obvious crime and doing nothing to stop it.
This city is a killer, and I’ve just become its next victim.
Despite my thrashing, Dom carries me right through the front doors of Altobello’s and promptly releases me. I fall into a heap on the floor, grunting with the impact. Ignoring the pain of the hard floor against my knees and elbows, I climb quickly to my feet and assess my surroundings. Three security guards already block the door behind me. Their expressions are grim and unyielding though they don’t bother meeting my eyes.
