Page 111 of Trapped
Chapter 36
Ashley
My mouth felt like a desert, and the light hurt my eyes.Where am I?Memories flashed through my mind. The guy in the backyard. Him calling Nathan, Scott. Passing out.
The rhythmic thump-thump-thump sound of tires on the road told me I was in a moving car.With who?And where were they taking me?
Rap music assaulted my ears, but I couldn’t cover them because they’d tied my hands behind my back. Too bad it wasn’t duct tape; John had taught me how to break free from that.
Not that I could do it lying down in a moving car.
“She’s awake,” a male voice said.
“Hello, Ashley,” the driver said. It was the voice I’d heard at the doctor’s office.
“Who are you? Where are you taking me?”
He laughed.
“How do you know Nathan? What do you want with me?”
“Funny you should ask.” He paused as he turned off the main road onto an uneven dirt road.
“I met Nathan when he called himself Scott Miller.”
My breath caught in my throat.He must be someone who used to work for the guys Nathan killed.The driver was probably in charge now, or working for whoever was.
“You’d think you’d be happy. Now you can be the mob boss or whatever it is you call yourself.”
“I’m a merchant.” He made sure I was making eye contact in the mirror before winking. Nathan had called them terrorists because they sold weapons to our enemies, but I didn’t think I’d earn any brownie points by correcting my captor.
“Whatever.” I exaggerated my eye roll. “Why do you need me?”
Just then, he drove over a rough patch, making the car bounce and almost knocking me off the seat.
“Can you untie me so I can brace myself?”
“I’m sorry, gorgeous, but I can’t do that.” His use of endearments made my skin crawl.
Be brave. Play it smart. You can get through this.
“Why the hell not? I assume you don’t want me to die yet, or you would’ve killed me already.”
He yanked the wheel, causing the car to jerk violently and making me slide, which resulted in my head hitting the door.
“Asshole,” I mumbled.
He must’ve heard because when he laughed, it sounded like a death sentence.
“This is gonna be fun,” the driver said. The passenger agreed with a laugh that made my stomach turn.
“If your beef is with Nathan, why didn’t you grab him?”
“We would’ve grabbed you both, but you walking into my arms was too good an opportunity to pass up.”
“I’d hardly say I walked into your arms,” I spat at him. “Why do you want me?” I had a feeling I was the bait, and would probably regret asking if he confirmed my suspicion.
“Because he cares about you.”
