Page 7 of Tears of Betrayal

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Ariana’s body bucks against my hold, and she lets out muffled screams. She grabs hold of my right arm, her nails biting into the sleeve of my shirt.

The girl has a healthy set of lungs on her, and it takes longer than I’d like before she finally loses consciousness.

I keep my hold on her for ten seconds longer to make sure she’s not faking it and then let go of her. Knowing I only have a minute at the most, I rush to the wall and switch on the light, and then I go to her closet to look for anything I can use to restrain her.

I grab a scarf from the closet and gag Ariana before using a belt to tie her ankles and another for her wrists. She’s only wearing a t-shirt and leggings, but I don’t have time to dress her in something warmer.

Picking her up off the bed, I carry her to the living room and set her down on the couch. I move the coffee table to the side and then roll her up in the rug.

Hoisting the rug over my shoulder, I head out of the apartment, and shutting the door behind me, I rush to the stairway. For the first time in a long time, I actually break out a sweat from a job as I carry Ariana down the stairs. I only have seconds left before she’ll regain consciousness.

Luckily it’s quiet, leaving the apartment building, and I don’t have to worry about any witnesses. When I get to the unmarked car and open the trunk, I feel movement coming from Ariana.

Fuck, that’s cutting it close.

Setting the rug down on the road, I open it just as Ariana lets out a groan. Her lashes begin to flutter as I pick her up and place her in the trunk, and then her eyes lock on me for a moment before I slam the trunk shut.

Grabbing the rug, I shove it onto the back seat. Ariana’s muffled cries and feet kicking at the car's interior metal are audible in the silent night, and I hurry to slide behind the steering wheel.

I shoot Alexei a quick text that I have the girl, then starting the engine, I steer the car toward the airfield where our private jet is waiting.

ARIANA

Before I can make sense of what’s happening, my eyes lock on the man I saw at Starbucks, and then he slams the trunk shut on me.

It takes a couple of seconds for my mind to catch up, and then horror and panic rocket through me. My heart goes from a drowsy beat to hammering against my ribs like a caged bird. My mouth instantly turns dry as prickles of fear rush over my skin.

And then I scream. The sound is sharp and petrified even though he gagged me.

Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God.

My mind races, unable to stop for a second to gather my bearings. I begin to kick against the inside of the trunk, and when I try to move my hands, I realize they’re tied behind my back.

No.

Crap, this is bad.

I hear the engine start, and when the car pulls away from the curb, I let out more terrified screams.

When my throat is raw, I manage to stop screaming, and my body instantly resorts to crying.

It takes a while for me to get control over the shock and to calm myself down so I can process what’s happening.

I remember waking up to someone jumping on me, and then I was choked.

I thought I was being killed. The fear was surreal and traumatizing, and just remembering it sends a wave of shivers through my body.

But I’m not dead.

Oh, God.

I’m being kidnapped.

My mind freezes again, unable to accept something like this is happening to me.

Why?

Who?

What does he want with me?

I can only think this is because of who my father is. That’s the only reason someone would take me.

Right?

Right. That has to be it.

Because nothing else will make sense.

Crap.

I suck in a deep breath of air, trying to remain as calm as I can.

I’ve already lost track of where I am, but still, I try to focus on every turn the car makes.

I have no idea how long we drive for, and the moment the car stops, my heart speeds up so fast I’m afraid I’ll pass out from the instant rush of adrenaline flooding my body.

I listen, but all I can hear are my frantic breaths and pounding heart.

Then the trunk opens, and I begin to thrash. My voice is muffled as I cry, “Let me go!”

The man reaches for me, and without any effort, he grabs hold of my waist and yanks me out of the car. I’m tossed over his shoulder, but I manage to struggle enough to free myself from his hold.


Tags: Michelle Heard Crime