Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 70518 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70518 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
“Okay.” Sawyer finally hung up. “Mom and Aunt Sue are going to a hotel under an assumed name. I talked to the hotel, told them who I was and that a stalker had been threatening my family. They assured me no one would know Mom’s real identity. It’s not perfect, but hopefully it’ll slow Nate down long enough to get Lucy back.”
“Call this fuckhead,” Boone grumbled. “Let’s get this show on the road.”
“If we just—” I stopped talking as Sawyer smacked himself in the forehead.
“Jesus fucking Christ! I’ve been in such a panic, I totally forgot.”
“What?” I demanded, glaring at him.
“The AirTag. Lucy got a fucking AirTag.”
“A what?” I asked in confusion.
“It’s a tracking device,” Boone said, his eyes narrowing. “People usually use them to find keys and stuff, but if Lucy has one on her…”
“I thought she said she was putting it into her bra or something,” Sawyer said, grabbing his phone and typing something in. “Holy shit. I found her.”
“What does it say?” I demanded, getting more and more frustrated by the second.
“Her AirTag says she’s about thirty minutes from here, in that industrial area near the river.”
“Let’s go.” I turned toward the door but Boone grabbed my arm.
“Wait.” His eyes met mine. “I know you’re scared. I am too. But we can’t just go in there without a plan. We don’t know how many people there are or what condition she’s in. Maybe we should try the police anyway?”
“I’m not waiting for them to get their heads out of their asses,” I snapped. “They’re going to ask us a million questions, and we do not have time for this. Come or do not come but give me the address.”
“Okay, Boone’s right.” Sawyer stood on my other side. “We need a plan and backup. I think I should call Nate, let him believe we’re willing to trade the papers or money or whatever he wants for Lucy. He doesn’t know we know where she is, so we have the advantage. Come on, Kon. I want to get her back safe and as quickly as possible too, but we’re no good to her dead.”
“Call him,” I said in a steely voice. “Because I am going to get her. One way or another.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Lucy
“Christ, this place stinks. Couldn’t Max have found an old warehouse that didn’t smell like pig shit?”
My kidnappers were complete amateurs. There were four men keeping me captive, and I already knew three of their names and had memorized the license plate of the van they drove me here in.
“I have to use the money for this job to pay my fucking taxes,” Mustache said to the guy next to him. “I wanted to buy a boat, but the IRS has their dick up my ass again.”
I probably could have gotten him to tell me his social security number if not for the gag in my mouth. A gag my captors had picked up from the ground of this filthy warehouse that stank of chemicals.
As a fairly average person, I’d never imagined myself getting kidnapped. That was something I’d only read about in books and seen in movies. But it had happened, and I was surprised by my reaction. I wasn’t shaking and begging for my life; I was pissed.
I wasn’t the asshole here. Nate was, hands down, the asshole and he continued to make my life a living hell. This cut-rate crew hadn’t killed me yet, and I figured if they planned to, they would have done it already.
There was a problem, though, and it was a big one. These guys had a lot of guns. I’d seen more than ten different guns already. If Sawyer and Kon came running in here to save me, one of them could get shot. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if anything happened to one of them because they were trying to save me from Nate.
Actually, there was another problem. They’d bound my hands and ankles with wire. My wrists were already rubbed raw from what little struggling I’d done. I wasn’t going to be able to free myself like people always did in the movies.
The only chance I had of getting out of this was by talking my way out of it. I made noises that came out muffled by the gag in my mouth until one of my captors came over to me. He was wiry and wore a gray hoodie.
“I can’t understand you. What was that?” he said with a grin.
Hilarious. He was a kidnapper-slash-comedian. I continued with my noises until he untied the gag.
“Hey,” I said, trying to sound friendly. “If you check my ID, you’ll see that my name is Lucy Cain. My brother is Sawyer Cain, and he plays hockey for the Mavericks.”
“What the fuck?” Mustache said with a sneer. “That’s my team. I didn’t know”