Page 12 of Stockholm (Angel of Mercy #1)

The Kept

M y brain keeps playing tricks on me.

With my hands bound to the truck and my vision stolen away, my thoughts have spiraled. I’m aware that I need to try and keep my head straight to give me a better chance of surviving this, but I’m struggling.

Everything about my life has been soft, easy to swallow. Diversity isn’t exactly something I’m bumping up against very often as a homemaker with old money behind my name. I’ve got zero practice in trying to survive.

Stress has hijacked me into silence. I should be resisting, but for some reason I don’t think bashing my head against the window or twisting to kick my attacker would go in my favor.

Dean’s quick and feels prepared for anything.

Plus, I’m finding a lifetime of trading my docility for gentle treatment impossible to override.

Which is how I end up quietly riding along with Dean for what feels like an eternity. The sound of my breathing pounds in my ears and I keep thinking I hear police sirens, but I chalk it up to wishful thinking when we’re never stopped.

I wonder if someone has realized something’s wrong yet.

The bank was locked up behind us, but we close early on Saturday anyway, so that’s not suspicious.

Eric will grow worried when he tries to call me and doesn’t hear back, but he’s also been so busy everyday on his work trip that it could be hours before he even picks up the phone.

There’s no telling where I could be by then .

My mind wanders to Bo, who’s in my car with Jesse, probably fuming at the way we’ve been plotted against and tricked by these thieves. His face when he realized what was happening broke my heart. Bo must be feeling so betrayed.

I know I do. I feel like an idiot. Dreaming about this man just for him to turn out to be a sociopath.

Eric will be so worried.

“He’s going to know it was you,” I say under my breath. It’s the only resistance I find the courage to make.

He makes a gruff noise, agreeing with my words. “He sure will. The note I left for him said as much.”

Stunned back into silence, I bite my quivering lip to keep my fear locked inside. He hates us. Hates me . Why? I have no idea what we could have done to cause this man to want to hurt us so deeply.

Smooth driving turns to what feels like gravel as the car takes a left and slows, making its way up what I imagine is the long, winding path that surely leads to my death.

The sunlight that had been filtering through my blindfold has faded and I don’t feel warmth on my skin from the window.

It’s likely a wooded area. Dark. Perfect for hiding a body.

My mind immediately conjures up images of being taken and slaughtered in the woods, where nobody would find me but animals. A low whine of fear clamors in my throat and I start yanking on the rope tying my hands together, which only serves to make it tighten.

“Stop! Please, whatever you want we can get for you. I swear I haven’t done anything, I haven’t done whatever you’re talking about. Just please let me go—”

The truck lurches to a stop, and a large hand fists my hair and I cry out from the sharp pain in my scalp. His other hand slaps over my mouth, trapping the scream inside me. My breath forces out my nose, so hard I feel like I’m suffocating.

I continue to beg, crying into his hand, the words muffled to nonsense.

Warm breath exhales behind my ear. He’s so close to me, and I shiver in fear, eyes squeezing tight.

“I already know that you’ll do whatever I want, Emma. You have no other choice. As of now, you’re completely and utterly under my control. Is that clear enough for you?”

I hesitate, then nod, sensing my compliance is important to him.

“Good girl.” He releases his hand from my face and I gulp in deep breaths as my chest burns and my head swims. “Catch your breath, and then we go in.”

We must be…here. Wherever Location Two is. At least I’d made it, instead of being gutted and thrown from the truck like a rag doll as I’d pictured on the way.

My door opens and a rush of cool air fills the car, as I’m tugged forward by my bound wrists.

They jostle as Dean loosens the knot on the door, and then pulls on the ropes like they’re a leash, leading me down from the car.

My shoes crunch on rocks as I’m led behind him.

Each step feels like I’m about to run into something, and the shadows that bleed through my blindfold look like terrifying monsters.

I don’t run into anything, to Dean’s credit. We pause in a giant shadow and I hear the noise of keys and then the unlocking of a door.

We’re here.

In the distance is the sound of tires on gravel, and briefly I imagine the police have followed us before remembering Bo and Jesse had been directly behind.

He better be okay. I need him to be okay.

The door scratches the floor as it opens, and I’m shoved inside a dark room, the blast of cold air chilling my fevered skin.

Stumbling forward, I brace myself to fall into something or to be grabbed by another stranger. A heavy hand is placed on my shoulder and shoves me down to my knees. “Look at the ground,” he commands.

I do as he says, and the blindfold unties behind my head, then is ripped from my face.

My vision is blurry, and I blink frantically, trying to clear my eyes.

There’s a dusty wooden floor beneath my knees, and a couch to my left.

When I try to scan the rest of the space, my head is shoved back down so that I’m staring at my thighs.

“Don’t,” he warns.

Silence falls, and I wonder if my heart is pounding loud enough for both of us to hear. His lack of direction has my mind wandering, conjuring up progressively scarier ways for this to end.

I can feel his eyes burning into me.

Crunching comes from behind me, and the front door bounces open again. There’s a shuffle of feet and a whine, then the flurry of movement as someone else is shoved to the space next to me.

Bo.

“Are you okay?” I ask, suddenly fearless of upsetting the men. Bo is only a few years younger than me, but something about him kindles a protectiveness that I’ll never ignore. “Are you hurt?”

“He’s just fine,” Jesse’s voice comes from behind us and I see him rip something from Bo’s mouth out of the corner of my eye.

Bo grunts from the pain, breathing heavily as his head hangs forward. From what I can see, he’s okay. He’s not physically injured, at least.

Cabinets open and close behind us. I tilt my head the slightest bit and see Bo’s eyes are closed. His lips are swollen. “Did they erase the cameras?” I whisper.

He looks back at me, fear in his eyes, and nods.

We’re wiped away. There’s nothing linking these two to our disappearance except for the note Dean claims he left for my husband.

I can’t think of a reason why he would do something like that.

Confessing to kidnapping and bank robbery feels like an insane move, and despite what he’s done today, he doesn’t strike me as stupid.

If anything, he seems excessively controlled.

There’s no motive. I’ve never purposefully harmed anybody, and as far as I was aware, Eric hasn’t either. Outside of opening businesses across the area, Eric is involved in nothing but investment meetings and weekly gatherings with other successful business men in the area .

I’ve been to the meetings—to the dinners. All they do is discuss money and business. It’s very boring, and more importantly innocent .

The floor creaks behind us as heavy footsteps approach, then black leather boots come into my vision, standing directly in front of me. Fingers snap in my face, and I blink in shock before looking up into the eyes of Dean.

Cold eyes. Not lifeless, but angry .

I swallow. If I was smarter I’d try to appeal to him, try to humanize myself. Instead I’m terrifyingly stuck in this silent compliance.

Maybe it’s what he wants. Maybe it will keep me alive.

“Drink,” he says, handing me an open water bottle.

It flies against self-preservation, but what choice do I have? I take the bottle between my two bound hands and drink from it. He watches me as I struggle to hold the bottle up, as water escapes my mouth to drip down my chin.

I see Jesse crouching down over Bo, holding water to his lips and pouring it in slowly. He’s gentle, so that Bo doesn’t choke. He’s being careful with him.

I don’t know how to feel about that, and I turn back to look up at Dean who is obviously not treating me the same way.

The look on his face strikes fear all the way through my body.

Bartering is my next tactic, apparently, because I start doing it in earnest. “Look, whatever you think I’ve done, can we talk about it? I don’t understand why you’re doing this, Dean—”

He crouches down, similar to how Jesse sits in front of Bo, looks me in the eyes and smirks. His hand reaches up and his thumb brushes a stray tear from my cheek.

“It’s Noah, my name,” he says, continuing the soft movement. “Noah Finch. Does that sound familiar to you?”

My brow furrows. “No.”

He nods to the side, indicating Jesse. “Jesse Finch, what about that name?”

I shake my head again .

Then he leans forward, until his face is just a breath away from mine. Until his bourbon colored eyes are invading my space, flooding my brain.

“What about Lily? Does Lily Finch ring a bell?”

His voice has changed to ice.

I don’t know, I don’t know her. I’m scared to say I don’t know.

“N—no,” I stammer.

His eyes search mine. They cut right into them and into my soul, where he rummages around, slamming my sanity to bits before standing again.

He looks at me like I’m dirt. A beat passes and he hawks back and spits, hitting me on my temple.

My stomach heaves, and I hear Bo shout and scramble next to me before he’s yanked backward by Jesse.

“Shh, no you don’t,” Jesse soothes, his voice tense with having to tackle Bo to the ground. Bo’s a strong guy, but Jesse wins out.

Me? I let my gaze fall to the ground. I’m horrified. This has to be a nightmare. It needs to be. Wake me up. Please let me wake up.

The room starts to shine, then blur. I try to look at Bo, and see him collapsing into the arms of Jesse, who looks down at him and brushes his thick curls back.

“What—what did you do?” I ask, my words thick like syrup in my mouth.

“You’ve never been drugged before, I’m sure. How lucky you are,” Dean says.

No. It’s Noah . His name is Noah.

Another stupid lie, and why does the lie sting?

Dots swim in from the edges of my vision, and I start to fall.