Sloane stepped back, struggling to catch her breath as Olly’s eyes lost focus and he finally slumped to the floor.
“Oh my God is he dead?”
“What?” Nicholas ran his hand through his hair. “No. I just put him out for a few minutes.”
Sloane’s hands went to her own neck. Right. He’d pulled the same move on her in the car.
“Come on, we’ve got to get him secured before he wakes up and starts screeching again.”
Sloane just crossed her arms over her chest. “Oh no, and someone comes running to find out someone’s kidnapped us. What a tragedy.”
Nicholas just glowered at her as he pulled out a black bag from underneath the bed. “What part do you not get about the guys coming after you? You think the cops will protect you? They don’t give a shit about you. These men don’t operate within the rules of your world. They will make you disappear, and who exactly do you think is going to be pestering missing persons about you? You’re exactly the kind of person who can disappear off the face of the earth and no one will bat an eye. A reclusive sex worker with no family and no friends? Wake up, Sloane. Your best shot is with me. I’m trying to save your goddamn life and it’d be nice if you fucking helped me for once.”
Sloane threw out her arm, feeling too big for her skin, which felt itchy and small. “What the hell do you think I just did? That bastard shot me up full of knock out drugs but I stayed awake to let you know he was fucking waiting for you!”
That got Nicholas’s attention. “Wait, what? He used one of the shots on you?”
Sloane nodded, padding her chest and cringing. “Right here.” She held out her hand which was shaking like a bitch so he could see. “See, I’m still freaked out.”
“Fuck,” he said, abandoning his bag and coming over to her. He took her hand, which really was shaking pretty badly.
He grabbed her chin none too gently and tipped her head back. “Look at me,” he commanded gruffly, then he cursed again. “Sloane, he didn’t give you the sedative. The dumbass gave you the one shot of epi. He spiked you with pure adrenaline. They aren’t labeled and it was mixed in with the other shots because I know the difference between their viscosities. I always keep it on me in my med kit.”
“Shit.” She held out her hands, both of which were shaking crazily. Far more, she realized now, than if she was just freaked out. There’d been a lot to be freaked out about in the last few days but none of it had made her feel this… this… jittery, shaky, crawl-out-of-her-skin need to move sensation that she felt right now. “Am I going to be okay?”
“You’ll be fine,” he said. “Let me take care of our friend here, and I’ll be right back. But yes, you’ll be okay. It’ll wear off in half an hour.”
She nodded, over and over and over again, trying to shake out her hands, standing up and pacing back and forth.
She watched Nicholas pull duct tape out of his black bag. He was methodical as he ripped off a piece and covered Olly’s mouth.
Olly began stirring, so Nicholas planted a knee in his back and grabbed his arms. It felt both satisfying and completely freaking nuts to watch the man who she’d sat across the kitchen from drinking coffee and eating cupcakes with, so calmly and relentlessly wrap the tape around and around her attacker’s wrists.
Olly came back to full consciousness and started squirming like a fish underneath Nicholas, kicking with his legs. Nicholas didn’t seem perturbed, but just calmly moved down and grabbed the kicking legs. He forced them together and proceeded to tape up Olly’s legs as solidly as he had his wrists.
By the end of it, Nicholas had probably used half the roll of tape binding the man. But he wasn’t finished there, apparently. Nicholas pulled out an even larger duffel bag—so big it looked like an Olympic bag.
And then, to her astonishment, he proceeded to stuff the other man inside it—mostly, anyway. His legs stuck out, but when Nicholas hefted the bag over his shoulder, he just threw a sweater over the legs.
“Keep the cat back,” Nicholas ordered, his voice still gruff.
Sloane dropped to the ground and scooped up Ramona—thankfully she didn’t fight her—and then watched on in astonishment as he yanked the door open and pulled his keys out of his pocket. His car was there, just maybe six feet outside the door and it was dark out again. A whole day had passed. Nicholas took a quick peek in both directions, then walked confidently the few feet to the car and threw his load into the trunk.