Quick.
Not one of the nicest of Rusty’s brothers.
He gave her a cold look, then looked over her shoulder to the man holding her. “Get her in the truck. I’ll deal with this one.” He jerked his head toward where Betty lie.
The man holding her yanked her arms behind her, and a moment later she felt the cold plastic of a zip-tie being tightened around her wrists.
“No, wait. Please. Don’t hurt her. It’s me you want. You don’t have to hurt her,” she pleaded.
Quick walked over to Skylar and took her jaw in his hand, tilting her face up roughly. “You get in that truck quietly like a good little girl, and you don’t give Reload any trouble, and maybe I’ll think about letting her live.”
She nodded. “I swear. I’ll do whatever you say. Please, just don’t hurt her.”
Quick released her jaw and stepped back. Then he lifted his chin toward the back door. She walked slowly towards it, Reload’s hand clamped over her arm. He yanked the door open and shoved her through. The last sight she had of Betty was that of her legs sticking out from around the side of the island, one shoe askew, and all she could think of was that Betty had two small children, three and five years old. Skylar prayed that Quick would let her co-worker live.
Oh God. If anything happened to Betty because of her, she wouldn’t be able to live with herself. All of this was her fault.
Reload steered her to a dark pickup truck parked in the driveway, and she went along quietly. He opened the passenger door and shoved her in.
“Scoot over to the middle,” he ordered.
She did as she was told.
He leaned in the open door and bent over her to zip-tie her ankles together.
“Sexy shoes.” He grinned as his hand ran over her black high-heeled pumps and then began to trail up her leg. When he got to her knee, his fingers slid under the hem of her tight black skirt, and he grinned at her. He was halfway up the inside of her thigh when the driver-side door was yanked open, and Quick jumped in.
“Get in the fucking truck,” he yelled at Reload. “We don’t have time for that shit now.”
Reload yanked his hand out of her skirt with a curse and jumped in next to her, slamming the truck door behind him. Quick hit the gas, and they sped out of the drive way and down the street.
The rain was coming down pretty heavily now, and Skylar could barely see the street through the downpour, even with the wipers slapping back and forth a mile a minute. There was no traffic on the residential street, no one out in this weather, no one to witness the dark pickup pulling away. Quick made several lefts and rights, maneuvering his way out of the subdivision.
Skylar finally found the courage to look over at him and ask the question she feared the answer to. “You didn’t hurt her, did you?”
Quick glanced from the road to her, but didn’t say anything.
“Quick, please. Tell me you didn’t hurt her.”
Reload suddenly grabbed her jaw and turned her face to him. “Maybe you should be busy worrying about yourself, sweetie-pie.” Then he leaned over and licked the side of her face. Skylar stiffened and tried to pull away, which made his grip on her jaw only tighten all the more.
“Reload,” Quick barked. “Leave her be.”
Reload looked over the top of her head towards Quick. “What the fuck for? Might as well have a little fun on the trip back.”
“Cause I fuckin’ said so,” Quick snapped.
Reload released her with a shove, and her left shoulder and breast slammed up against Quick’s arm.
“Fuckin’ fine,” Reload snapped. “You suck the fun right out of everything, you know that, Brother?”
“Just fucking shut up and make the call,” Quick growled.
Skylar straightened, twisting to try to regain her upright position. She also tried to nonchalantly inch her way closer to Quick and further away from Reload without being obvious about it. Reload didn’t seem to notice. He was too busy digging his cell phone out of his pocket and dialing. But Quick must have noticed, for he looked over at her, and their eyes connected for a moment.
“Where are you taking me?” she couldn’t stop herself from asking.
Quick ignored her question.