He stares at me for a beat before shaking his head and getting out of the car.
I zoom off, his figure becoming a small blip in the rear-view mirror.
I start to focus my mind on what I have to do.
Rescue Demi at all costs.
If I have to join the Brotherhood, fuck it, I’ll sign my life away.
If they ask to exchange my life for hers, I’ll do it in a heartbeat.
Goldilocks deserves to live. She deserves to see the world. She deserves more than all this shit I’m bringing to her.
My GPS indicates that I’m half a mile away, so I slow down to assess the area and any possible escape routes.
I’m in the middle of nowhere with only an abandoned looking warehouse surrounded by nothing but dead grass.
I check the glove compartment to make sure my Glock 19 is where I left it when I first got the car. I debate whether or not I should bring it inside, knowing I’ll probably get checked the minute I step in the warehouse.
I pull up outside and am confused as fuck at what I see.
Chapter 22
Demi
My head is pounding so much, it hurts to open my eyes.
I groan in pain as I come too, not immediately remembering what happened.
I manage to get my eyes open and see that I’m in what looks like an empty warehouse with a singular lamp and chair a few feet in front of me.
My wrists start to burn, and when I try to pull my arm to check, I notice that I’m tied up.
“What the fuck?” I whisper, still feeling lethargic from the accident.
The accident. Connor.
I’m about to call out for Connor when a figure walks into my line of view. I wasn’t aware enough to hear his footsteps approach.
“You’re even prettier in person,” the man says.
I squint my eyes to try and see if I recognize him, but I've never seen him before in my life.
“Do I know you?” I ask, my voice hoarse.
“No, but you will in a few minutes. I just pinged your boyfriend our location.” The guy smirks and holds his phone up for me to see.
He’s on the taller side and lean, little cuts in his muscles give off the impression that he lifts weights from time to time, but not consistently. His hair looks like he’s been running his hands through it all day as a nervous habit. He’s attractive, but seeing as he just kidnapped me, that attraction goes out the window.
“Boyfriend?” I ask confused because I don’t know what the hell he’s talking about. “I think you have the wrong girl.”
“So you don’t know Canon?” The guy puts his hands in his pockets and leans down so we’re staring face to face.
“Canon?”
“Yes, Canon.” He stands and turns to walk away but keeps talking. “Oh, and let me say,” He sits in the chair under the lamp, “I’m sorry for you being collateral damage. This was too good of an opportunity to pass up.”
“What are you–” I begin to ask, annoyed, but the warehouse door slides open.