Page 87 of Defending You
“Get rid of him,” the one holding her said.
“No!” Cici thrashed, panic flooding her system. “He needs help!”
A flashlight beam swept across Asher’s still form, and her heart clenched at the sight. His face was deathly pale.
“Please,” she begged, her voice breaking. “I’ll come with you, just let me?—“
“You’re coming either way, sweetheart.” The man’s hands were vises on her skin. Even so, she fought to escape, eyes fixed on Asher.Please, be okay. Please!
Asher wasn’t fighting as another man checked his pulse. He was unconscious. Or…she couldn’t even let herself think the other possibility.
One thug yanked Asher’s bag off the back of the bike, then rolled the bike deeper into the woods, toward the void. He disappeared in the darkness.
A moment later, the sickening sound of metal crashing against rocks. He must’ve rolled the bike off a cliff.
“Toss the bodyguard over with it,” one of the men said. “Maybe it’ll look like an accident.”
“No!” She screamed. “Please, just leave him!”
But they gripped Asher’s arms and dragged him away.
A moment later, they came back without him.
He was gone. Asher was gone, and she was all alone.
The warehouse smelled like rotten eggs and despair.
Cici’s captors manhandled her through a maze of dusty machinery and empty crates, her wet sneakers squeaking against the concrete floor.
They’d only driven ten minutes, maybe fifteen, from the accident site, but they might as well have been a thousand miles away. Nobody knew where she was. Her only hope for help was…gone.
The men hauled her up a flight of stairs and into an office. A large metal desk and a couple of cheap rolling chairs were arranged haphazardly. The lights overhead buzzed and flickered,giving everything a sickly yellow glow. Dark fabric had been nailed over what she assumed must be exterior windows.
The other end of the room was filled with filing and storage cabinets, one of which had been shoved in front of a door that must lead outside. Only the top of the jamb was visible.
The men stepped in behind her, then released her in the center of the space.
Leaning against the desk was the man whose face had filled her nightmares.
Wendall Gagnon smiled when he saw her—a slow, satisfied curve of lips that held no warmth, only predatory pleasure. His straight teeth gleamed, and those wide-set eyes assessed her like a butcher examining prime cuts.
“The bodyguard?” Gagnon spoke to the men who hovered nearby.
One stepped forward, slender and well-dressed. He’d been in the forest. Now, she recognized him as one of the guys who’d followed them from the barn the day before. “He’s dead.”
The words, spoken so casually, hit hard. She sucked in air, panic and grief working their way up her throat.
“Good.” Gagnon turned his attention to her. “Miss Wright.” His voice was cultured, almost pleasant, as if they were meeting at a cocktail party. The same tone he’d employed moments before he’d murdered Mr. D at the jewelry store. “Do you have any idea how much trouble you’ve caused me?”
Cici’s legs threatened to give out. The image of Asher’s still form being dragged away played on repeat in her mind, and she couldn’t stop the sob that escaped her throat. She pressed her hand to her mouth, trying to hold back the tears that had been threatening.
“I asked you a question.” Gagnon’s tone sharpened, cutting through her jumbled emotions like a blade.
She forced herself to look at him, this monster who had destroyed everything. “He’s dead because of you.” The words came out raw, broken. “He’s dead because of your greed.”
“Your friend chose to interfere in my business.” Gagnon smoothed his suit jacket with manicured hands. “Actions have consequences, Miss Wright. Surely your father taught you that.”
His reference to her father didn’t surprise her. Obviously, he’d done his homework. It was the casual dismissal of Asher’s life that hit her like a physical blow. She wanted to scream, to launch herself at Gagnon and claw that smug expression off his face. But she forced herself to stay still, to think. Asher had died trying to protect her. She wouldn’t let his sacrifice be meaningless.
