I had no idea what their MO was, but the first thing that came to mind was that my dad pissed someone off, and the Whitlock daughter became the target.
Me.
The van’s engine revved, and the sound of tires pressing the dirt deeper into the ground grew quieter with distance. Where the hell were we? Who were these people?
Solid footsteps echoed on what sounded like a wooden deck, followed by the distinct sound of a door creaking open. With my head covered, I couldn’t see a fucking thing. It was all complete darkness, a black void that made it increasingly easier to fucking panic.
A loud thud had me gasping for air. I assumed it was a door that slammed shut, wood creaking as we moved. An image of a cold, dirty basement tore through my mind, igniting the type of terror that smothered the fight I had two seconds ago. What if I was wrong, and this wasn’t some ransom plan? Would I be stuck in a basement for days, weeks?What about...what about my baby?
Jesus.
I inhaled as much oxygen as I could through the thick material covering my face, trying to think of something—some way to get myself out of this nightmare. But I had nothing. My mind was tied with fear, and I realized that I was at the complete mercy of whoever was carrying me.
The words ‘please don’t hurt me’were on the tip of my tongue when I was abruptly dropped into someone else’s arms. The rag over my face shifted up, and I caught the woody, spicy scent of patchouli before getting my ass planted on the hard floor.
“Ouch. You motherfucker.” I grimaced.
“I see you still have a dirty mouth.”
My body went cold, and my stomach turned inside out.
“Still feisty as ever.”
The bag got pulled off my head, but I kept my eyes shut for a second longer. That voice. I recognized it.
I held my breath and opened my eyes, staring into blue irises that seemed to shatter with intensity. “Noah.”
“Hey, baby girl.”