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“I’m so sorry.” I twist in my bonds, trying to free myself.
“Why would you be sorry?”
I take a deep breath before speaking, trying to steady my voice. “They took me because Guardian HRS has been working to take down their human trafficking operation. They probably took you because they know you’re close to me and can use you as leverage.”
“Against you and against Guardian HRS?”
“Unfortunately.”
“How can people be so cruel?” Barbi’s eyes widen in fear and anger. “You can’t let them do that.”
“Do what?”
“Use me. Don’t give them what they want because of me.”
“Barbi, it’s not that easy. You don’t understand…”
“I understand.” She takes in a deep breath. “I know what you do for a living. Iunderstandthe kind of people that do such horrible things. But I won’t be able to live with myself knowing I’m the reason you gave them something that might hurt someone down the road.”
“Barbi…”
“You can’t decide that for me.” She gives me a fierce stare. “Promise me. Promise me you won’t. I’d rather die than be the reason someone else is…” She gulps, unable to finish her sentence.
It’s not clear whether she understands what men like Maximus Angelo and Artemus Gonzales are capable of.
“I’m sorry you’re involved in this. The last thing I want is to put you in danger.” I feel guilty she’s involved in any of this.
“How much danger are we in?” She puts on a brave face, but she’s scared.
“I’ll figure a way out of this,” I try to reassure her, though I’m not sure if I believe it myself.
Just then, the van comes to a sudden stop. The doors open and a blast of dry heat slams into us. We’re met by two men in black suits and dark sunglasses who grab us by the arms and pull us out of the van.
Somewhere in the desert outside of Vegas, there’s a small plane sitting on a makeshift runway.
“Artemus wants to speak with you.” One of the men speaks as he drags me along.
Artemus? Interesting. I assumed Maximus Angelo was responsible for our abduction. Did the power dynamic between the two men shift? Or has Artemus Gonzales been the leader this whole time? Both are interesting questions, and I’m fairly certain I’ll soon know the answer.
With my arms tied behind my back and my ankles secured, the men have no choice but to drag me across the sand and grit toward the plane.
One of the men sneers at me. He dropped valuable information about who’s responsible for this and doesn’t realize it. Or maybe, he doesn’t care?
I fight with everything I have, but with my arms tied behind my back and my feet bound together, it’s futile. They load me into the back of the plane, then shove Barbi in after me.
“Don’t take the girl. She has nothing to do with this.” The men ignore me and slam the door shut, leaving us in eerie silence.
One of the men hops into the front seat and begins a preflight checklist, while another joins him in the jump seat. Of the three remaining men, only one joins Barbi and me in the back. The other two disappear with the van.
As the props spin up, bile rises in the back of my throat. Real fear grabs hold. I don’t care about myself. They can do whatever they want to me, but Barbi?
She doesn’t have the training I have to survive situations like this. As much as I hate to admit it, taking Barbi is a brilliant move on their part because I’ll protect her with my life.
I squeeze my eyes shut and curse. While I have two trackers embedded in my body, I told Guardian HRS I was taking a week of leave. They won’t start looking for me for several days, and by then, it may be too late.
A lot can happen in that amount of time.
I shift as best I can, placing my feet over Barbi’s ankles. It’s the only physical contact I can manage.