Page 55

55

SAWYER

W ar lures me out of the house by telling me Jamie needs us to meet him. Then, he drives to a toy store on the outskirts of town where he says he has to make a stop. It’s full dark and practically closing time when we arrive.

His stride is so long I have to hurry to keep up.

Inside, he grabs a giant box containing a water slide and carries it to the front. When he pays with hundred-dollar bills, the young guy at the register appears confused by having to handle actual money. Looking at the crisp bills suspiciously, he hesitates. War glares at him, and the guy finally deposits them in the register.

War carries the large box outside and shoves it in the back of the SUV. He walks around the truck and stops next to me at the passenger door.

“Phone.”

I stare at his massive outstretched hand. “Why?”

“Hand it over.”

“Or what?”

He jerks my purse from my arm and then opens the door. “Get in.”

“What’s going on?”

“Get in, or I’ll stick you in back.”

My brows shoot up. “What the hell are you talking about? Are we actually meeting Jamie?”

“No, I’m fucking kidnapping you while I run errands.” War rolls his eyes as he grabs my arm and drags me toward the back of the vehicle.

“What the fuck? Stop.” Trying to pull away, I glare at him.

He drops my purse on the ground at his feet while he opens the back hatch with his left hand. After he pushes the waterslide box to the side, War sweeps me up and sets me inside.

I scream as he slams the back down and clicks the lock.

As I’m trying to open the back, he closes the passenger door and stalks around to the truck’s driver’s side. While he’s getting in, I climb over the barrier and land on the back seats.

My heart feels like it’ll pound out of my chest as I try to open a side door. Child locks must be enabled, because the door won’t budge.

For fuck’s sake. What is happening?

Unperturbed, War opens my purse, extracts my phone, and presses the side button to power it down. When he jerks his own phone out and turns it off too before tossing both devices onto the passenger seat with my purse, I go still.

“What are you doing?”

“Making it so we can’t be tracked.”

“The truck has GPS.” I regret the words as soon as they’re out of my mouth. I want him to see the futility of what he’s doing, but I’m not trying to assist in my own abduction.

He starts the truck and swings it in a wide arc to exit the parking lot.

“Look, it doesn’t cost you anything to explain yourself,” I say.

“Situation is fluid. He’ll tell you what he wants you to know. Unless he can’t, and then I will.”

Falling back against the seat, I feel as though all the air deflates from my lungs. Unless he can’t. Does that mean someone will order Jamie not to share details? Or that he’ll be too injured to speak?

Crossing my arms over my chest, I grow increasingly surly. “Jamie went to talk to one of your bosses, didn’t he? If they sent him to do something dangerous, why the hell aren’t you with him?”

War ignores me. I swallow the lump in my throat with a racing heart. What possible reason could War have for pulling me out of Scott’s home? Where Jamie left me to drink Guinness and play with his little cousins?

I stare suspiciously at the back of War’s head. Maybe he took me as leverage. If so, he’s working against Jamie, not with him. And I need to try to get away.

When we’re about thirty minutes outside Coynston, he pulls off the expressway and into the parking lot of a weathered motel that needs a coat of paint. And about a thousand other things.

War turns in the seat to look at me with his signature scowl. “This is a precaution.” He gestures at the motel office. “I’m getting you a room. We can’t use our cell phones here. But in a while, I’ll go offsite so I can contact him.”

With my arms still crossed over my chest, I glare at him.

He’s unmoved by my discontent. “Get down so no one sees you when the interior lights come on.” War grabs the phones and shoves them in his pockets. When I make no move to lie down, he shakes his head. “Your fucking funeral.”

I stare after him as he exits the truck and locks the doors again with the fob, trapping me inside, before he stalks away.

There are a few cars in the dark lot, but no one’s around. The only movement comes from passing headlights on the highway.

A few minutes later, War returns and opens one of the side doors.

I don’t move toward him. “The truck has GPS, and there will be surveillance footage of us walking around the toy store. There’s no way you’ll be able to?—”

“GPS is disabled on all Crue trucks. It’s the first thing that’s done.” He glances around the parking lot, then opens the front passenger door to grab my purse, which he holds out to me. “Come on.”

I’m torn. I want out of the truck with its creepy kidnapping-enabled locks. But I have no idea what awaits me in the motel room.

“I can’t believe Jamie agreed to your doing this.”

“Agreed to it? This is a favor for him .”

My brows furrow. “He told you to abduct me? To a seedy motel? I don’t think so.”

War grabs me and slides me out of the truck. “There wasn’t time to discuss specifics.” He flings the doors shut and grabs my arm again when I try to move away. “And no, he won’t like the way this went down. But when you act like a fucking brat, I’ve gotta improvise.”

With a slack-jawed expression, I stare at him.

“You gonna walk? Or do you need to be carried like a baby doll?”

He’s out of his mind. Does he really expect me to believe Jamie—who knows him—would have him take me anywhere?

“I’ll walk.” My gaze scans the motel room windows. All the curtains are closed, but two have slivers of light framing the curtains. It’s only nine-thirty. If I start screaming, I should be heard. The question is… should I?

War points. “Room 103.”

My shuffling gait is slow but steady as I walk toward the door. I reason that if War wanted to take me to a location where no one would hear me scream, that’s what he would’ve done. So maybe he’s telling the truth?

War unlocks the motel room door and flicks on the light.

I enter and sit at the cheap dinette table. He swings the door shut and sits on the end of the bed, consulting his watch. A stillness settles over him. So, at least the part where he said we’d wait in the room seems credible.

After several moments of silence, I tilt my head. “Why the water slide?”

He looks up, staring at the wall rather than looking at me. “It’s cover.”

Studying his profile, I say, “I don’t know what that means.”

After a beat, he turns so his body’s angled in my direction. Flipping a hand in a vague gesture, he says, “Needed an excuse to come upstairs to get you. Said I was coming to the kids’ party tomorrow and needed to talk to you about the joint gift we were gonna get.” His dark eyes rake over me. “If the situation goes right. We’ll wrap the fucking box and give it to Trick’s sons tomorrow.”

“A water slide? It’s the middle of winter.”

“So?” His brow cocks. “It’s not fucking Narnia. Summer’s coming eventually.”

“Big C.S. Lewis fan?”

He sighs heavily, as though conversation is the biggest waste of time since doomscrolling. After checking his watch, he pops his knuckles. “What did J tell you about his work?”

“Nothing.” Licking my lips, I shake my head. “But I know about his cousin’s past arrests from the net. And that C Crue is a criminal organization.”

“Yeah?” He leans forward, resting his arms on his thighs. “So, what the fuck’s a good girl still doing hanging out with him?”

“Maybe I’m not that good.”

A black brow rises again, communicating his skepticism. “What happened in Connecticut?”

“Information being on a ‘need to know’ basis cuts both ways.” My voice sounds hard and slightly smug. Which pleases me. “Anything Jamie wants you to know, he’ll tell you.”

The corner of War’s mouth twitches, like he’s close to smirking.

Resting my elbows on the table, I lean forward. “Stroviak, that’s the last name of one of Scott’s partners, right?”

“Scott?”

“Scott Patrick. Ash’s brother.”

“Ah. No one calls him that.”

“Is Stroviak the name of his partner?”

War stands and stretches. He’s so tall his fingers graze the ceiling. “Yeah. Anvil’s last name is Stroviak.”

“You think it was a good idea to throw his daughter across a room?”

An evil smirk curves his lips. “Impulsive decision.”

“She could’ve been hurt.”

His dark gaze slides to my face. “I could bench three hundred at fifteen.”

“Meaning?”

“Did I break any bones when I put you in the back of the truck?” War shakes his head as he walks over to the small flatscreen that’s mounted in the corner of the room. “When I hurt people, it’s no accident.”

“Still, you might have scared her.”

He murmurs some words in Russian before turning to face me.

“What?”

“The princess one told the violent one she’s not allowed to hit people, even if they’re mean. And especially not if they’re so big.” For a brief moment, a smile appears, and War looks almost human. He rests his hands on his head, huge muscles straining the sleeves of his shirt. Then he sits on the end of the bed again. “What I said just now was ‘born fighters fight.’” His head tilts as he looks over at me. “Ever meet Anvil?”

I shake my head.

“Yeah, well… the younger one, she’s all Stroviak. About the only thing that kid got from the mother is a fucking X chromosome that’s dormant.” He checks his watch. “She was looking for a fight, and I gave her the closest thing anyone ever has. She look scared to you when she hit that mattress pile of stuffed animals?” Staring down at the floor, he allows himself another flash of a smile.

The idea that he thinks he was providing a child with fun by tossing her across a room is crazy. And yet, Makayla did erupt like a volcano without an ounce of fear or regret.

“Her father may not view your version of play-fighting as casually as you do.”

“May not.” He stands. “And then you and Blondie can cheer my demise.”

“Blondie is Ash?”

Without answering, he rolls his massive shoulders as though he needs to keep his muscles loose. “It’s been long enough. I’m gonna roll out to a safe distance to check for messages from J.” He pulls my phone from his pocket and sets it on the end of the bed. “Give me an hour for the round trip. If I’m not back by then, it’s safe to turn your phone on.”

“What makes you think I won’t turn it on the instant you leave?”

“Nothing.” His gaze sweeps over me. “Nor do I really give a shit. By now, you should realize the only way I’d do what I just did for you is as a favor to him. From here on out, if you don’t cooperate with being helped, you’re on your fucking own.”

I lose our stare-down, and he stalks over to the door. Without another word, he walks out and slams the door behind him.

So, I’m alone.

Free to participate in my kidnapping. Or not.