Not even Pete.
“Well, what are you waiting for?” I asked, anger filling my veins. For five years, I’d thought of this moment. Fear was always present. I always imagined I’d cower, and cry, and beg them not to take me, because I knew once they did, I’d never ever be the same girl as I was now. I’d be this empty shell of the girl I used to be. But for some reason, standing here, looking at them, I wasn't scared. I was pissed.
My life was just getting good.
I just learned wha
t love was.
What friendship was.
I wouldn’t go down without a fight, and one way or another, I’d fight like hell to get back.
Just as the thought passed through my mind, the back door opened. The man with the tattooed head peeked in. He first landed his gaze on me, and his eyes held onto mine for a fraction too long. The subtle twitch of his cheek had me wondering who he was. He wasn’t like the others. He didn’t have a vengeance in his eyes. He didn’t reek of death.
“The car is ready. Coast is clear. Let’s go.”
The burly man with his hand on Pete’s shoulder stayed put as the others stalked toward me. I kept my gaze straight on Pete as the man came closer to me. He was tall, so tall I’d have to incline my head if I wanted to get a good look at him, but I didn’t. I kept my stare on Pete. Don’t do anything stupid, you old drunk.
“What are we doing with him?” the burly man asked.
The man who now had his hand wrapped around my bicep snarled in their direction as he half-dragged me past. “I don’t care. Make sure he doesn’t call the cops. Kill him if you have to.”
My throat shut tightly. The fear was back, and it threatened to pour out of my mouth, but I dug deep into the girl I was molded into from the last five years. “He won't call the cops. He doesn’t give a shit about me, do you?” I glared at Pete and prayed to God he was catching on. “Plus, he has his own demons to hide from them.” The man’s hand tightened on my arm, and I bit my tongue not to cry out. I heard the punches and grunts as he pulled me through the door, following after the scrawny man who led us across the street.
The good news was I didn’t hear any gunshots as we crossed the quiet street. I thanked God that Jill wasn’t home, because things could have gone a lot differently if she were.
The grip on my arm was loosened just a bit as I was pulled closer to the man. He smelled like tobacco and gunpowder. My nose flared when we reached the Escalade.
“So, what exactly is your plan with me?” I asked, probing him for answers. “Prostitution? Payment? Sex trade? Gonna try to make a buck off me?”
He glared at me, his eyes forming slits. The tattoo-covered man warned me with his eyes, which only perplexed me further.
“If you’re going to kidnap me, at least tell me why. Is it for the settlement? You can have it whenever I get it.”
“Your father owes us that settlement and more.”
A sarcastic laugh fell off my lips, and I couldn’t stop myself from mouthing off. Maybe it was the hidden fear that I kept pushing away so I didn’t scream at the top of my lungs, or maybe it was some sort of defense mechanism.
“Get her in there. I’m gonna smoke before we take off.”
The burly man passed me off to the smaller man with tattoos. I jerked my arm, but I knew it was no use. They had guns. They could shoot me if I ran. I needed a different plan. A smarter one.
As soon as the tattooed guy all but threw me into the Escalade, he climbed in after, scooting beside me. I eyed the door on my right, but he put his hand on my knee.
“Don’t.”
I slowly swung my gaze from his hand to his face, and when his eyes met mine, they squinted. My breathing picked up, and panic started to set in. Suddenly, I felt like I was losing. I wasn’t the badass girl from the trailer park who’d been perfecting this tough facade for the last five years.
I was trapped. My chest started to grow tight, and my throat felt like it was constricted. I tried to think of Christian and the way he made me feel safe, but it wasn’t working. That only made me panic more.
“Just breathe,” the man whispered, squeezing my leg.
My eyebrows dipped with confusion. He eyed the men outside the vehicle. The big one, still smoking, was now joined by the other man who had taken care of the Pete problem. When his eyes swung back over to me, he mouthed the words, “Just keep him talking.”
What?
He gave me a cautious look.