“Then I quit.”
“Not today you don’t, bro. Keep it together. This is bound to get worse before it gets better. Fiona is now our number one priority.”
“Kelan,” Owen said as he joined them in the weapons room. “You have the full resources of this team and my entire company. Whatever you need, whatever we have to do, we’ll do. Inside or outside of the law.”
Kelan met Owen’s eyes and held his gaze for a long moment. At last he nodded, then resumed cleaning his weapons.
He’d failed Fiona. He would find her, secure her, and leave a long, bloody gash in the body of the enemy while he did it.
Chapter Two
Fiona felt something hard and cold beneath her cheek. She took stock of her senses and her environment without moving or making a sound. Her hands were bound behind her. The metal of her security bracelet pressed into her wrist. She moved slightly, relieved they hadn’t taken her security necklace either.
She was on the floor of a cargo van, one clearly in motion. Where were they going? How long had she been unconscious? Her legs weren’t bound. She tried to open her eyes, but all she saw was black. And at that, she panicked. Sitting up fast, she felt pain explode in her head. She couldn’t remember being hit. Had they drugged her?
She sucked in a deep breath and caught a mouthful of fabric. A black cloth covered her head. She was nauseated and had to focus all of her energy on not vomiting for a moment. Taking slow, deep breaths through her nose, she waited for her stomach and head to calm down.
Kelan had probably found her car by now—and its dash cam video. He would find her. He’d tear the whole world apart looking for her.
She just had to stay alive long enough for him to do it. She shut her eyes and conjured up his image, taking comfort from his strength, his silent power. His eyes were so dark, they were almost black. His hair shimmered like liquid tar, but in the sun, you could see the burnt umber highlights in it.
She remembered the faint sandalwood scent he had. Sandalwood and sunshine. So much better than the stink of the hood covering her face.
The road they were on was straight and smooth. In the time since she’d awakened, they hadn’t stopped at lights or intersections. Probably a highway, then. Where were they? How long had she been out?
After a while, Fiona thought of a way to get out of the van and get her hood removed and her hands untied.
“Hey!” she shouted, uncertain if anyone was in the back with her or if they could hear her in the front. “Hey, someone!”
“What?” a man answered. His voice was muffled, as if he spoke through a partition.
“I need to use a restroom.”
The man cursed. She could hear him say something to someone else. A phone call was made.
“You need to hold it for a while.”
“I can’t. I’m going to pee in your van if we hit another pot hole.”
The men argued up front. The van started to slow down. The terrain got rough as they pulled off the road, then stopped. Fiona’s heart started a fast rumble. If they were anywhere near civilization, she could make a break for it.
Someone opened the back doors, and she was yanked roughly out of the van. It wasn’t dark yet—she could see late evening sun filter through her black hood.
Another vehicle stopped behind them. Whoever was in the second car had to see her bound and hooded. Relief flooded her system at the thought of a potential ally—until she remembered there had been two vehicles that originally pulled her over.
One of the men dragged her around the corner of the van and started to unfasten her jeans.
“What are you doing?” She kicked at him and tried to get away, but another set of beefy arms blocked her.
“You said you had to pee.”
“I do, but not like this.” She sucked in a rough gasp and got a mouthful of hood. “Not with an audience.”
“She’s not going anywhere. There’s nowhere for her to go,” one of the men said as he untied her hands.
“And the hood. I can’t see anything with it on.”
Rough hands fumbled with the strings behind her neck, then dragged the bag off her head. She looked up at two men in black ski masks. The day was a hot one. Sweat was beading above their dark brows.
“Get to it.”
“I need privacy.”
One of the men shoved her back against the side of the van. “You don’t get to ask for anything, bitch.”
“Careful with her! Just let her do her thing so we can get out of here.”
Fiona looked back at the men still in the second van, both of whom were watching her. “They have to go, too. I can’t pee with anyone watching me.” She looked over to the empty prairie hills—they were way out east somewhere. “Where would I run to anyway?”
The lead guy shook his head, then waved the other men over. As a group, they went around the front of the first van. Fiona pressed her alert necklace and jogged to the end of the second van. She waited, listening for a car coming in either direction. The first she heard was headed toward them on the opposite side of the highway.
She ran across two lanes of traffic and was halfway across the median before the men spotted her. She was waving madly toward the truck heading her way at seventy-five miles an hour. Three of the men crossed toward her. Already the car was slowing down.
Oh, heck. She hadn’t thought this through. The men had guns—she was endangering anyone who stopped. But if she didn’t try something, she would end up dead herself.
The lead guy didn’t bother chasing her. He shouted toward her. “You weren’t the only one we took today. We got the boss’ kid in the second van. Come back over here or I’ll shoot her. We only wanted her for insurance. Thought we’d need her to keep you in line.”