Page 52 of Destroy Me

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“Abbie, Aurora, Paula, Duarte, and Seijo, step forward,” Instructor Yelena orders.

“Why just us?” I ask as we move to the front of the group.

I get my answer when Instructor Yelena explains, “Only the five of you are training. The other men are kind enough to offer their assistance, so the lessons are as close to the real thing as possible.”

Lucky us.

“We’re going to do a mock kidnapping, so you can get a feel of what will happen. Thereafter, we’ll go over everything you could’ve done to evade or escape.” She gestures at the group of men. “Take your places.”

The yakuza, the Albanians, and the bratva split into three groups.

“This is the only time you’ll get to choose,” Instructor Yelena says. “Pick your group of kidnappers.”

Seijo, of course, picks the yakuza as he’s one of them.

The twins pick the Albanians.

“Ladies?” Instructor Yelena pressures us to choose.

“I’ll take the bratva,” Abbie says, doing me a favor.

Seeing as all three groups have been taken, I ask, “Should I wait for the next lesson?”

Instructor Yelena gives me an incredulous look. “Pick a group, Miss D’Angelo. Surely it can’t be that hard?”

Jesus.

With my cheeks going up in flames, I glance at the three groups.

It’s a hard pass on the Albanians. The bratva is also a no-go.

Shit, that leaves the yakuza.

Ugh.

Dragging my feet, I walk to the group of Asian men.

None of the men look at me, which I appreciate. Besides Seijo beating the crap out of me on the first day, he’s quite disciplined in class. Maybe his friends are the same.

Instructor Yelena waves a hand, and before it can register, I’m grabbed from behind and dragged into the maze of crates.

You have to fight!

I start to yank and wiggle, trying to free myself from his hold, but the guy is too strong. I’m pulled behind a crate, spun around, and a hard slap makes me bite my tongue.

Okay, it’s starting to feel real.

I’m still reeling from the slap when he starts to tie my hands. Fighting against his hold, I manage to free one hand, which only earns me a punch.

Blindly, I swing a fist at the guy, and it connects with his jaw.

“Jesus,” I whimper as dizziness swims in my head, but I manage to get another punch in, making him curse in Japanese.

His arms lock around me, and my feet leave the ground, then I’m dragged deeper into the maze of crates and shoved into one. A second later, darkness closes around me.

No.

Fuck no, this is way too real.


Tags: Michelle Heard Romance