Page 87 of Anything for You
The figure who’d been hunched in front of the car straightened and walked off.
“You’re going to drive now, or I shoot the nurse.”
Catherine eased off the brake and drove.
My heart sank through the floorboards.
This was planned.
This wasn’t a random carjacking.
They knew I was a nurse, which meant they’d likely known where I’d be tonight. Maybe they’d even known Dorian wasn’t with me.
They hadn’t grabbed me outside the store because some of the Saint men had been there, but just a few blocks away and…
It was official. We’d just joined the worst club ever.
CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
Dove
It took no more than three minutes to figure out where we were going.
I’d suspected from about minute two, and here we were, twenty minutes after getting abducted at gunpoint, rolling into the compound just a few minutes down the road from my own house.
Great.
The good news was, instead of wanting to shrivel up in a ball and cry, I was getting angry. Not usually my default emotion—I wasn’t actually all that familiar with anger. Most of my life, I’d avoided it since it didn’t do much for me. What good would being angry with my parents, or the cult leader, or even my brother, do me?
But as they pulled me from the car, hands bound behind my back with what had felt and sounded like somekind of zip tie, and then manhandled Catherine out and immediately tied her hands behind her back, I felt the ore-melting fire of rage burning in me.
Because this had to be thanks to my brother, which meant I was going to murder him.
Well, not murder him.
Definitely do whatever I could to get out of this and then have him arrested, right along with his merry band of misogynist peabrains.
Sure, one might argue I didn’t know they hated women, but I’d suggest kidnapping two women at gunpoint hinted strongly at just that, not to mention a few other flaws in one’s character.
“You’re hurting me,” I said, hoping some amount of protest might be heeded. I hadn’t dared to speak in the car, but the gun wasn’t pressed into my head anymore, and I’d started feeling fairly confident they wouldn’t shoot me outright since Hawk would be mad. “Where are you taking her?”
No response, despite my continued questions as we walked. I’d ask Hawk—no, demand he tell me.
Granted, Hawk wasn’t a leader here. I knew that like I knew Dorian would be waking up in approximately ten hours and if I didn’t show my face soon after, he’d know I was missing.
Clock is ticking, crapheads.
We entered a building with faded sunflowers painted on the outside, no doubt a vestige of the sweet tenants who’d been elbowed out. Inside, the barn appeared to be a meeting space with wooden benches and a stage up front with a microphone and lectern. Behind it was a giant American flag and a chalkboard affixed to the wall with the wordHISTORYin all caps and thehisunderlined.
Oh. Goody.
The claim that the history of the United States and more likely all of humanity was only valuable when looked at through the white male lens had been a common refrain in my childhood. It looked like Hawk had managed to find a group of people with a nearly identical ideology.
My stomach rolled, and I gritted my teeth against the bite at the hinge of my jaw. If I wasn’t careful, I’d end up throwing up. I’d never thought of myself as someone who could be triggered by things. For the most part, I’d made decent peace with my past, especially since I’d had such a good life with Nan. But based on the way I felt physically ill, maybe I wasn’t as solid as I thought.
We swerved past the stage and exited the barn out a back door, crossed a dirt expanse, and entered another building. Inside, fluorescent lights cast an eerie glow in the hallway. After one turn, we arrived at a room where the goon shoved me inside to find Hawk sitting at a table.
“Hiya, Dovey.”
