Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 62262 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 311(@200wpm)___ 249(@250wpm)___ 208(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62262 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 311(@200wpm)___ 249(@250wpm)___ 208(@300wpm)
When I spotted rope and duct tape in the back of the van, I struggled even harder. Oh hell no. It was all over if he got me in there. I swung my feet up and managed to make contact with the van’s doorframe, so I pushed off as hard as I could. While my assailant was temporarily thrown off balance, I whipped my head back. He yelled and dropped me as my skull broke his nose.
I ran over to Sam just as he took out the third one with a swift kick to the balls. A crowd had gathered, but all they’d bothered to do was film the attempted abduction with their phones. So helpful. We dodged around the onlookers and started sprinting down the sidewalk as he yelled, “I told you to run!”
“I am running!”
“Earlier, I mean! Before those fuckers closed in.”
“I wasn’t going to leave you alone.”
“But I’m a bodyguard, and a trained field agent!”
“And I took self-defense classes with my best friend Moira, because she didn’t want to take them by herself.”
“Next time, do as I say!” Was there going to be a next time?
We skidded around a corner and dodged a lady with a poodle before ducking into an alley. When we were halfway down it, I grabbed Sam’s hand and pulled him into an alcove.
After a few moments, I peeked out, and he whispered, “Do you see anyone?”
“No.” I slumped against the wall and asked, “What the hell was that about?”
Sam bent in half and managed, between gasps of air, “Yesterday, we were asked twice if we’d read Mercanti’s journal. My money’s on that. If whoever wants it can’t get the thing itself, apparently plan B is making us tell them what it said.”
“You’re probably right.”
He glanced at me from his folded-over position. “Why aren’t you winded?”
“I am, a little.” He looked skeptical, so I added, “I’m a runner. I usually do four to eight miles every morning.”
“Depending on how much you hate yourself?”
“Depending on how early I want to get to work.” I brushed my hand over my damp forehead and asked, “You don’t think they know where we live, do you?”
“No idea. But if they did, wouldn’t they have tried to catch us there, instead of snatching us off the city streets? That was bold as hell in broad daylight, by the way.”
“Yeah, it was.” I pulled my phone from my pocket and sent my mom a text before saying, “I need to get home. If those men do know where I live, my family might be in danger.”
We were on the edge of Chinatown, so I led us down back alleys and took shortcuts no one but a lifelong resident would know. Along the way, Sam said, “You know, for someone who was almost abducted a few minutes ago, you’re coping remarkably well.”
“I’m going to fall apart later. Right now, I’m running on pure adrenaline, and I’m focused on my family. I told my mom to be on the lookout, because someone might be coming after me. She’s probably freaking out.”
We cut through a passageway between buildings and made our way through Mrs. Diaz’s vegetable garden before hopping the fence into my backyard. One of our residents had hung up some laundry, and we ducked behind it and took a minute to regroup. Then we rushed to the back of the building, and I unlocked the door.
When we stepped inside, Mom and Julie appeared out of nowhere, which made Sam shriek. They were brandishing cookware and dressed in pajamas, and my mother crushed me in a hug as she asked, “Are you okay, sweetie?”
“I’m fine, Mom. What are you doing?”
“You said some men might be coming for you, and then I caught a glimpse of someone hopping the back fence. We ran downstairs and used my power to hide, so we could fight anyone who tried to break in.”
I shot her a look. “So, you were going to brain them with Great Aunt Sue-Sue’s favorite cast iron skillet?” Julie was holding a dainty omelet pan, which seemed a lot less effective.
Sam nodded his approval. “That would stop anyone in their tracks, no question.”
When Julie asked what was going on, I explained, “Someone broke into the archives and trashed them last night, and we were on our way back home when some men tried to drag us into a van. Those two things are probably related.”
Both women seemed stunned, and my mom turned to Sam and started to make a fuss over him. “I’m so glad you two were together,” she said as she patted his cheek. “Thank you for keeping my baby boy safe.”
He blushed shyly and mumbled, “You’re welcome, ma’am. I tried my best.”
I was glad he was getting the praise he deserved, because he’d been awesome. At the same time though, I didn’t love the implication that I’d been nothing but a helpless damsel in distress. “I fought off the attackers, too,” I pointed out. “There were three of them, and I broke one guy’s nose.”