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Chapter Three

Quinn

The door opens. Light burns my eyes after the pitch-dark of the car, but I don't let it stop me from launching out as best I can with my bound feet. It might be the only chance I get to escape before I'm killed, or sold, or whatever the fuck these assholes want with me.

I fling myself forward, hoping to feel the satisfying crunch of someone's face against my head. Instead, there's only free fall. Shit. I brace to hit the ground.

Before I do, arms wrap around me. For a moment, I'm pressed against something that feels like solid rock, and then I'm lowered, carefully, to the concrete. Loose grit digs into my knees, and I try to shout through my gagged mouth as I stare up at my captor.

He's a goddamn giant.

He's dressed in smart blue jeans and a black button-up shirt, the sort of thing a guy might wear out to a nightclub. It's jarring, as if he dressed up for whatever the hell this is. Although the shirt fits him well, it doesn’t disguise his size. His muscles strain against it as he runs a hand through his close-cropped dark hair.

His green eyes scan me with enough rage that I fall silent; then he turns to an older guy next to him. “Is this some sort of fucking joke?”

His accent is the harsh British type you hear in modern gangster movies. “Fucking” comes out as “facking.” Is he a London mobster collecting women? Clearly, I don't fit his requirements. Maybe there's hope.

The old guy frowns. “Sorry, sir?”

“That's not her. Not Suzy. Did you even look at her face? Or just the pink fucking hair?”

Suzy? All at once, the pieces drop into position. I'm wearing her hoodie. We both have pink hair. It makes more sense and less all at once. This wasn't a random abduction, but what would a man like this want with someone sweet like Suzy?

The old guy's face drops, and he stares at me like I’m an unexploded bomb. There's a moment of frozen silence, then shocked gasps and murmurs. It hits me that I'm in the middle of a small crowd.

With a fresh surge of hope, I shout through my gag again. Maybe one of them can help me. I tug against the cuffs on my wrists, but all I achieve is cutting into my skin. The watchers don't move to help me; they just mutter to each other and stare. I'm an interesting zoo exhibit to these assholes.

It's starting to piss me off.

A guy in a business suit steps forward. “If you’re just here to gawp, leave. Now.”

His voice rings with command, and the gathered people obey right away, throwing glances over their shoulders. What is this place? A cult? A drug cartel hideout?

Suit guy touches the giant's shoulder. The giant whirls on him. “I knew something like this would happen. I should have led the fucking team!”

“It's a setback, Jacob, but we’ll correct the mistake. Trust me.”

Correct the mistake? A cold shiver tracks up my spine. I'm the mistake.

“Trust you? After this bloody cock-up?”

Suit guy goes to talk, but the giant—Jacob—focuses on something over my shoulder. I follow his gaze. There are two men, a gothy guy and a preppy one in a pink polo shirt. But the third person draws all my attention.

It's a woman, and not some rough gang type. She looks like a kindergarten teacher, and she's staring at me wide-eyed, lips parted. She isn't tied up. Surely she'll want to help me?

I stare straight at her and try my very best to yell words.

Help! These fucking bastards kidnapped me!

I yell and struggle, but she just watches. Jacob points at me and snaps, “See this? It’s the wrong girl! They fucked it up, Gabriel. Those fucking morons took the wrong girl!”

Goth and Preppy exchange a long glance, then everyone starts talking at once.

“I'm sure they can fix...”

“Kendrick, what's the protocol for…”

“Sir, I can't apologize enough…”

“Jacob, I promise we'll rectify…”

The kindergarten teacher is the only one still looking at me. She frowns and grips the gothy guy’s arm. “Gabriel, she's terrified. They can't leave her on the ground like that. Do something.”

The goth guy—Gabriel, apparently—swallows and nods. He approaches the man in the business suit, who I'm starting to think is the boss, and says something I can't hear. Business suit nods, then raises a hand and speaks over the commotion.

“Colonel Brackis, take this young lady to one of our detention cells. Find out who she is and where she's come from. See she's given refreshments.”

He glances at the kindergarten teacher. “Eve, it might be best if you accompany them. Try to keep her calm. Gabriel, you too. Jacob, come with me to my office.”

The colonel hauls me to my feet, gripping me by my bound wrists and the neck of my hoodie. The fucking hoodie that got me into this mess. There’s something dismissive about it, and it raises my hackles even more than they already are. I’m not a person, just an unfortunate mistake. A problem to be dealt with.

And whatever this place is, I doubt they’re going to deal with “the problem” by sending me home with an apology.

Fury lends strength to my muscles. Fuck them. And fuck this asshole yanking on my wrists in particular. I won’t be able to escape, but I’m not going to make it easy for him. I bend forward, as far as the hoodie will allow, then launch myself backward. This time, I connect. Pain radiates through my skull, but it must have been worse for him.

The colonel grunts, a satisfying sound of shock and pain, and his hand leaves my hoodie, wrapping around my throat. He yanks me against his chest and grinds out, “Behave yourself. You’ll learn your place here.”

Learn my fucking place? I twist against his grip. I don’t have much movement in the leg shackles but manage to kick back, connecting with his shin. His grunt this time is more anger than pain, and his hand tightens on my neck. “Settle the fuck down, or else I’ll…”

“Brackis.” It’s Jacob, suddenly very close. His intimidating presence and the harsh warning in his voice stop me dead. “It’s not her fault you cocked this up. If you can’t control a tiny girl without choking her, it’s time to retire.”

Brackis freezes, the tension in his muscles harsh against my back. He wants to argue, I can tell, but doesn’t dare. He’s the one who caused this mess, after all. Jacob stands in front of me, addressing me directly for the first time. He seems like a different man than he did just moments ago. All his anger has been wiped out and replaced with calm authority.

“Fighting isn’t going to help, but I promise you won’t be harmed. Go with Eve and Gabriel. They’ll ask you some questions, and you need to answer them truthfully. That’s all you need to focus on for now. Can you do that for me?”

I pull again against the colonel’s grip, but it’s no use. I can’t move. There’s no escape. I can’t even ask a question through the stupid gag. I let out one last, frantic yell, then meet Jacob’s green gaze. I won’t be harmed. Can I trust him? There’s absolutely no reason to think I can, and yet the look on his face is sincere.

And really, what choice do I have? I nod. Jacob lets out a long breath.

The colonel doesn’t answer as he marches me off. I almost stumble but soon get used to the tiny, shuffling steps and keep my head high. I won’t give these assholes the satisfaction of seeing me fall.