I heard a squeaking noise that reminded me of the gates at our estate near the O’Donnelly compound where Aidan’s parents lived.
Well, parent.
I forced myself not to think about Senior.
This could have happened if he was alive. There’d never been any guarantees for our safety, none whatsoever, and I couldn’t pretend otherwise—I’d known exactly what I was getting into when I’d said, ‘I do,’ to Aidan.
Forcing myself to go slack again, aware that we’d be moved soon, I knew that the toughest part would be not revealing myself through any grunts of pain as they hauled me around.
I was right.
Pretending was a nightmare.
Pain splintered through my brain as the truck jostled as one—no,two—people jumped out of the front, and then again when the trunk opened.
When someone dragged off the tarp then hauled me over their shoulder like I was a bag of potatoes, I would never know how I didn’t scream as the agony in my head and the rest of my body clamored for supremacy.
It was then that I knew I was as much of a badass bitch as I’d always told myself—this was Star-grade acting.
The more pain I was in, the limper I became until I began taking pleasure in the man’s panting breaths as he moved me wherever he wanted me.
The sudden stench of fish hit me just as he muttered, "Fat bitch," and dumped me on a pile of—nets?
Ewww.
I was more offended about that than the goddamn ‘fat bitch.’
I clearly needed more curves because when they said that eating a cake made it harder on potential kidnappers to snatch you, they weren’t fucking wrong.
A couple seconds later, I heard a weird dragging noise, and then someone was pretty much dropped next to me a few feet away.
A door slammed closed and a locking sound was audible next. I waited a couple seconds but it was silent in here, so silent.
The stench was putrefying, and not gagging was another thing to award myself for.
When noises sounded from outside—an engine starting, a car moving, and then, in the distance, voices—I released a breath and dared open my eyes to pitch black darkness.
It didn’t come as a surprise, but fuck, it made it more grueling to move around, especially as I kept getting caught on the netting below me.
"Bastards," I hissed as I wriggled and writhed, shuffling over to where the weight had shifted earlier.
I felt like a snake slithering amid a pile of shit as I managed to get myself on my knees and awkwardly shuffled forward in a crawl that would win me no prizes in the grace department.
That was when I smelled him.
The relief of him hit me like a sack of bricks to the temple.
I was blind, in the dark, restrained, my life in danger, but all I knew was that he was here, that he smelled like home, and I knew we’d get through this.
Like we got through everything.
Together.
For a handful of seconds, we weren’t here. Instead, we were eating omelets in the kitchen at home while he bitched at me for downing my third triple espresso.
He’d shaved and I was sniffing that delicious aftershave I could bathe in.
We were in bed, safe and protected from this horrible, horrible world.