And like every other guy in my life these days, he ignored what I wanted, spr
inting up the stairs two by two.
Rolling my eyes, I popped on my own shoes at the door. I had a pair of shorts on as well as a sports bra and tank already, planning to go for a run after my call with LJ.
I headed outside, then stretched once more in the day. The fresh air was my fuel, and as I stretched, Niko came outside to join me.
“We’ll stay on the trails,” he said, dropping his foot after stretching his thick calf. He had shorts and a red tank on. “That way the cops won’t lose track of us.”
Nodding, I figured that’d be the case. It always was, and with that, we headed off the porch. He hit the trail right away, and after, I texted our police detail to let them know we were going out. They liked us to do that, so I did. After getting confirmation, Niko and I headed deep into the trail. We were only about five minutes into the jog before Niko cursed, though. He jiggled his pockets, and when he came up empty, he shoved back a thumb. “We gotta go back to the cabin. I left my cell phone.”
“I have mine.”
“I need to track my steps, Queenie. Two seconds.”
Him and his two seconds. I started to follow him, but stopped.
He did too. “Aren’t you coming?”
“I’ll wait.” And when I got his eye, I raised and dropped my arms. “Dude, I will be fine. I’m not going anywhere.”
He frowned. “Promise me?”
“I promise you. Now go. So we can go.” The sooner he went, the faster he could come back.
A heavy sigh before he bunched his hair. “You better not go anywhere. I’ll be right back.”
I mean, where would I go? I nodded like that fact was obvious, and only after I did, did he sprint back. I lost his back through the trees, scrolling through apps on my phone. I had my own workout apps I liked to monitor and brought one of them up.
Leaning against the tree, I played around on the device, but the snap of a twig behind made me jump.
“Can you help me? I think I’m lost.”
I turned around, feeling like I recognized the voice, and the moment I did, my eyes twitched wide.
A man, a disheveled man wearing a dirty T-shirt and sweatpants. About a month or two of coarse hair on his face, it took me a second to realize I knew the guy.
But by then, he’d grabbed me.
Sinclair covered my mouth, smelling like booze and smoke when he normally didn’t do either. I screamed, but his hand muffled the sound, and before I knew it, he was dragging me across the woods. He had a car parked off the trail, way off and far away where the police normally did their rotation. It wasn’t just a car, though. It was a van, a white one, and opening it up, he threw me inside it.
“Help—”
The door slammed in my face, cutting off my sound from the world. I scrambled on my front as a door opened and closed. Sinclair hopped in the front seat, and the next thing I knew, he was peeling away, my body sliding and slamming against the side of the van.
I groaned, hugging my impacted side. I tried to get up on my knees but didn’t have the need when Sinclair reached back. Getting a hold of my arm, he dragged me up and between the seats.
“Get the fuck up here and sit down,” he growled, dark circles under his eyes. I barely recognized him, his facial hair patchy and completely unkempt. He pointed toward the seat. “Now. That’s not a request, and don’t even think about going for the doors or windows. They don’t open on your side.”
Shivering, I stayed where I was, but then he went for the handgun shoved into the front of his sweats.
He pointed it at me. “Get in the fucking seat, Billie. I won’t ask you again.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
LJ
“You’re doing great, Lance. Just great. Remember to stay calm and don’t obstruct the wire.”