Page 19

Chapter Eighteen

It was definitely time for a big sister talk. Trenda could tell by the tone of my voice when I’d called that I needed her. She knew it was serious the second I called. But when I said I’d take a half day off work? That sealed it.

So here I was rummaging around in her fridge like I owned the place while she took baby Drake and picked Bella up from school and then took her to a friend’s house for a play date. I had the best sister in Tennessee.

I paused when I saw a Tupperware container near the back.

Homemade potato salad!

Scratch that, I had the best sister in the world !

I laughed. If Drake had still been in town, there’s no way there would have been any potato salad left in Trenda’s fridge.

I rummaged further and found all the cold cuts I needed. Plus—bless her heart in the good way—horseradish and sauerkraut for the bestest roast beef sandwich to go along with the potato salad. I made sure to leave enough for Simon to have two sandwiches when he came home, because I saw that there was turkey for Bella and Trenda. I salivated as I created a masterpiece of a sandwich.

I happily trotted my tushie to the living room. I set down my treasure on the coffee table and curled into the corner of the sofa. I picked up the remote and grinned when I found Trenda had recorded one of the Real Housewives episodes. I wondered if she made Simon watch it with her. I turned it on. I picked up my bowl of potato salad, then took my first bite and closed my eyes as I savored the perfectly spiced goodness.

The room exploded.

My bowl dropped out of my hands as I covered my ears, trying to drown out the sound of gunfire?

Gunfire!

The glass patio door was almost gone. It had a man-sized, jagged hole in it, and a man in leathers with a bandana over his face was reaching through the hole to the door handle.

Run!

I lurched off the couch and started for the front door, but somebody caught my ponytail, and my head was yanked backward. It felt like my neck was going to snap.

I fell to the ground and cut my elbow on a long piece of glass. It burned. But it didn’t hurt as badly as my neck.

“Bitch, you ain’t going nowhere.”

“You got her?” someone yelled from the back deck.

“Yep. We’re all ready for the trade,” the guy who was pulling my hair said.

“Owww!” I screamed as I was dragged through broken glass toward the shattered patio door. My jeans and boots gave me some protection, but my shirt was short-sleeved—and riding up. My back and arms were getting shredded.

Oh God, he dragged me over a huge piece of glass, I felt it stab me. Deep.

I was crying like a fucking baby and now was not the time to cry. I needed to keep my shit together.

“We need to leave a message,” the voice from outside yelled.

A message? God, what kind of message?

The monster stopped dragging me. He literally lifted me to my feet by my ponytail. I screamed in pain.

He yanked down his bandana and said, “Quit your sniveling, bitch, or else I’ll really give you something to cry about.”

That stopped my tears. He’d said the exact words that my dad used to say, and I’d stopped crying in front of him when I was eight years old.

I stood on my tiptoes to relieve the pressure on my scalp. The man who was staring at me had a long gray beard and cold, dead eyes. “Your old man made a bad mistake,” he said quietly. “He never should have taken our brother.”

Dad? Dad was still in jail.

That was when I noticed he was wearing a biker’s vest. Not one from around here, though. I knew all the motorcycle clubs and gangs in Tennessee. It was part of the job.

I opened my mouth to say something, but nothing came out. I was too scared. I cleared my throat.

“I think y-you made a m-mistake,” I stuttered. “Dad’s in jail. He couldn’t have taken your brother.”

He scowled. “Don’t try to be cute. Your man . Simon Clark.”

I clamped my mouth shut.

Simon?

Shit, of course, Simon. I was in his house. He thought I was Trenda. What had I been thinking? Well, the last thing I wanted to do was tell this bastard that he had the wrong sister. What I needed to do was get him and his buddy out of the house as fast as possible. Before Trenda got home with her son. Was there something else I could say?

Think, Maddie!

“Simon doesn’t have your brother,” I wheezed out.

I didn’t have a chance to brace before his fist slammed into my stomach.

“Bitch, don’t lie. We know what went down. We know you're Simon Clark’s old lady. He’ll do a trade. He might have been a SEAL, but he’s old and he’s gone soft.”

“What do you want me to do?” I needed to do something to get them out of here before Trenda got back.

“You’re coming with us. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll keep your trap shut.”

“Leave a message, Grizz.” I turned my head just a little and saw an even scarier looking guy with a scar down half his face yelling from outside. “Do it fast. We need to leave.”

Grizz looked down at me. Then he swiped his finger through the blood on my side and pulled me over to the sofa. He leaned over it and wrote on the back wall with my blood.

Each time he ran out of blood, he would swipe more from the cuts on my body.

WE WANT A TRADE

YOUR WIFE

FOR OUR brOTHER

He yanked me by my ponytail again, but this time I was ready and I managed to stay upright. He pulled me out the patio door and I opened my mouth to scream.

His fist hit the side of my head just as I screamed. The last thing I saw was the sky… spinning.

Then nothing.

* * *

I hurt. Bad. Everywhere.

I opened my eyes.

I can’t see!

My heart started racing. Why couldn’t I see? I groaned, but I couldn’t hear it. I tried to move my lips, but they didn’t work. I tried again and felt something sticky.

Duct tape.

Everything came rushing back. I sucked in a deep breath through my nose. Good, my nose was free. No duct tape there. I tried to move. I rolled, but my arms and legs weren’t working. I was tied up.

Probably more duct tape.

I took stock of my body. The duct tape had been wrapped around my upper arms, down to my wrists. Then on my legs, I was taped just around my knees. So, I could move a little bit.

I kept my eyes open, trying to acclimate to the dark. Yeah, I hurt, but now was not the time to be a wimp.

I felt myself breathing too fast.

Keep it together, Avery. Don’t have a panic attack! Not now. You can have one after you’re safe.

I blinked. My eyes began to sting.

No! No crying.

You don’t get to cry, and you don’t get to panic.

I could feel my eyes watering.

No. No. No!

What would Drake do?

What would Evie do?

What would Beau do?

They wouldn’t fucking cry. They’d fight. So that’s what I’ll do. No panic. No tears. Just survive. Just like Beau would.

My shoulders slumped.

My eyes had finally acclimated, and I saw I was next to a water heater. Then I saw an electrical panel on the wall. The room smelled of motor oil and was drafty. I might not be able to do much with my arms, but I could at least move my lower legs. I bent my knees, and slowly spun around on my side. I saw a garage door.

I was in a garage.

I slowly rolled over, and the room began to spin. My head felt like somebody had shoved a spike through my temple.

I was lying on a cement floor.

When I no longer felt like I had taken some kind of magic mushroom, I saw a workbench with some tools hung up above it. But not many. I blinked to clear my head. Then I realized most of the tools were strewn all over the bench. Wait a minute, there were belt buckles hung up, too. That didn’t make any sense.

I closed my eyes, trying to think, to focus on what was important.

I opened them again and saw an open toolbox on the floor beside the chair in front of the workbench. Maybe there was something in there I could eventually use.

I looked around the room a little more, but I couldn’t see the door. I needed to roll some more to find out where Grizz would come from. There was no way I wanted to be taken by surprise. Not again.

I began to roll.

Ahh, God.

I felt like someone had just stuck me with a burning, metal spike in the side of my belly.

If I could have, I would have screamed.

I realized that there was still that piece of glass embedded in my side, right above my jeans. I felt blood oozing out of the cut. My rolling around probably made it worse.

My breath was coming in short bursts. I needed to get myself under control.

I still needed to find out where Grizz would come from. There had to be another door, some place. I curled up as best I could, so that I could start moving like a worm on my other side. Maybe if I got close to the workbench, I could lean up against it and see the whole garage.

I started moving. Pushing myself forward with my sneakers, then pushing forward with my butt and shoulder on my uninjured side.

It felt like I’d been going forever.

I looked over to see how close I was to the workbench, and I wanted to cry. It looked just as far away as when I started.

I started again, but then my sneaker lost its grip, and my butt slid through something wet.

Ah God, it was blood.

My blood.

The room started to spin again.

I slumped over onto my stomach, jarring the piece of glass.

The scorching pain was unbearable.

When I felt myself slipping away, I gratefully grabbed at unconsciousness.