Page 46 of Trapped (Sheppard & Sons Investigations #6)
Ashley
“ L ooks like I was wrong. I figured your Prince Charming would rush over to save you, but it appears he’s waiting until tomorrow.”
I stared at him with scratchy eyes, no doubt red from all the crying I’d been doing. My plan to steal a phone was a joke. Al left me alone for hours while he and his guys got ready for Nathan.
“I’d hate to think all the traps we set were for nothing.”
I couldn’t stand looking at him another second, so I stared at my feet.
“I expected a smart-ass remark. Guess the chair scared the snark right out of you.”
“Fuck you,” I whispered without moving my head.
He laughed. “Not all of it. Maybe I should call Nathan and let him hear you scream.”
My head snapped up as my heartbeat doubled in speed and my breath caught in my throat.
The whimper I tried suppressing, escaped. “I don’t know his number,” I said, trying to be brave.
“That’s okay, little worm, I do.” He turned his phone towards me. “And he’s still at the SSI office.”
I didn’t doubt they’d come for me, but apparently it wouldn’t be tonight. The sun was already low on the horizon, and it’d be dark soon. It’d be a hell of a lot harder to rescue me in the dark.
“Maybe I misjudged your usefulness.” He scratched his chin, making himself a caricature of someone thinking. Al tapped his phone screen a few times then held it out so I could hear.
“Blaszek. Leave a message.” Nathan’s voicemail was short but not sweet.
“I never pegged you as a coward. Come get your woman before I start sending her back to you in pieces.” He hit the screen.
If I’d been standing, I would’ve fallen. Al’s mood grew darker with each delay keeping him from his revenge. It didn’t take a genius to see Al had expected this to be easy.
“Boss. Lookout 1 called. We’ve got company.”
Could it be them? But Al said Nathan’s phone was still at the office.
“He must’ve left his phone behind. Not so stupid after all.” He smiled. “Looks like it’s your lucky day.”
I didn’t feel lucky; I’d have to witness Nathan and my friends get killed.
“Cuff her and tie her to the chair. I’d tell you not to move, but I don’t trust you not to sacrifice yourself to save your lover.”
I gulped in air as panic set in. I’ll be sitting on a literal fucking bomb .
I definitely didn’t feel lucky as I stumbled on boneless legs to the chair.
“Sit.” He pushed me, forcing my knees to hit the edge of the wood, and I fell back.
He tied my ankles to the thick legs, ran a rope over my thighs and under the chair, then secured my arms at the wrists and elbows.
“Try to stand,” Al ordered.
What the fuck! “I’ll blow up if I do.”
“It’s not armed yet. Now stand.”
I tried, but the rope cut into my thighs and arms, holding me secure.
Satisfied I couldn’t move, Al said, “Arm it.”
Every prayer I’d ever said in my life paled in comparison to the non-stop string of pleas I sent to God asking him in incomplete and run-on sentences to help us.