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Chapter Thirty
Ariella
I should have been grateful the collar and bracelet were removed. While Sergio may have stolen me for himself, he didn’t have any intention of sending pulse-pounding electricity through my neck.
Maybe he wasn’t a sadist?
I still didn’t trust him.
He’d locked me in the backseat of his black SUV, shoved a bag over my head, and drove us all of about twenty minutes.
The terrain had been rough. The ride was quite bumpy. I didn’t feel like we’d stayed on any main roads.
I doubted that Sergio was concerned about being seen.
He must have lived off the beaten path. It wasn’t quite off-grid per se. I suspected there was electricity and all the finer things that money could buy.
I wasn’t wrong.
“Let’s go,” Sergio said, his voice rough and thick. His words slurred just a bit as he grabbed me by the arm and thrust me out of the backseat.
“I can’t see anything,” I said, reminding him I had a bag over my head. It was difficult not to trip over the rocky terrain. He didn’t have a paved driveway, or if he did, he’d opted not to use it.
“That’s the point,” he said.
Grass and stones grazed my bare feet.
I missed my leather boots even more, not to mention my cell phone that had been tucked away. I loved those shoes and had even splurged on them because I thought they looked fantastic with a pair of jeans.
I doubted I’d ever get them back, and wearing a new pair in was hell on my feet.
How would Jaxson ever find me?
“Step up,” Sergio instructed.
I took a careful step up to feel warm wood under my toes.
Was it a porch?
It didn’t creak, but it probably wasn’t old or rickety either. Sergio was a mobster and was probably rolling in dough. At least that’s how I imagined it, especially after running the auction. He was clearly in charge, or else someone would have intervened when he’d decided to take me home.
I could hear the jingle of keys and the clank of metal as he shoved the key into the lock.
We would be heading inside soon.
What if I took off on foot? My hands weren’t bound behind my back. I could toss off the bag over my head and run.
How far would I get?
Did he have his gun handy? I was sure he had a weapon, and he’d probably shoot me the first opportunity that he had, especially since I didn’t cost him a cent.
The door squeaked on its hinge as he opened the front entrance. Well, I assumed it was the front entrance.
My heart pounded like a boat that smashed against rocks in a storm. Sweat covered me, but I knew it wasn’t hot outside.
My stomach somersaulted.
At that moment, I had to act. And so I ran.