What the hell? My eyes flew open.
I wasn’t at home in my bed. I was lying on a cold cement floor, still dressed in the red tunic and leggings I’d worn yesterday in my attempt to win over Nolan once and for all. When I tried to lift my arm, I realized my hands and ankles were secured with plastic zip ties.
The darkened room around me was cluttered with sagging, dusty boxes, and an old washer and dryer were tucked into the far corner. A five-gallon bucket stood overturned several feet in front of me. As if someone had sat there watching me, I realized with a shudder.
Was I in someone’s basement? How long had I been lying unconscious here? The dim light filtering in from the one window told me it was daybreak . . . or maybe sunset. I wasn’t sure which.
My mind spun sluggishly to catch up. The last thing I remembered was preparing my apartment for Nolan to come over. I’d lit candles and then changed into a figure-hugging outfit? hoping we’d have the talk and figure everything out between us.
At the knock on the door, I’d opened it with a smile, assuming it was Nolan. A man in dark clothes had grabbed me. Shoved something over my nose and mouth until I was close to passing out.
The memory blurred at the edges, my mind still foggy so the details were just out of reach. My heart galloped at the memory. I’d struggled with a man much bigger and stronger than I was, trying to scream, trying to make a scene so that one of my neighbors would notice. But it had all happened so fast. Before I knew it, I was being shoved into the back of a car in the parking lot. The white sedan I’d seen a few times before. A second man in the driver’s seat had sped off just as I lost consciousness.
Studying my surroundings, trying to gather up every detail I could, I strained my eyes in the gloom, ears pricked for the smallest sound. But there was nothing.
A chill of dread crept down my spine. This had to do with Troy; I just knew it. And this time, there would be no running away. I had a horrible feeling I was going to die here.
No, no.
I fought back a wave of tears and nausea, forcing myself to calm down and keep listening. My captor was probably upstairs. But I couldn’t hear any movement or talking. It was dead silent, only the whoosh of my heartbeat thudding in my ears.
I checked myself over for injuries. Lifting my bound hands, I felt a lump under my hair on the back of my head. Ouch. I winced and pulled my hands away from the tender skin. But other than having to pee terribly, I seemed to be fine. For now.
God, I’m such an idiot. Why hadn’t I told someone—my dad, Nolan, anybody—about what was going on? Thinking of Nolan made my chest ache and my eyes sting. I wanted him to hold me so badly.
My stupid goddamn plan had failed. He had no idea where I was, and even if he could somehow figure it out, did I even deserve for him to rescue me? I’d fucked everything up beyond belief. One way or another, our relationship was almost certainly over. His life with Daniella would go back to normal, our whole brief affair forgotten.
Heavy footsteps thudded overhead and I froze. My heart pounding, I sank back against the wall, bracing myself for whatever came next.
Chapter Twenty
Nolan
It’s my daughter, Lucky. Those four simple words had sent adrenaline surging through me.
Barton had lost too much, seen too much action, and buried too many men over the years. If it was me he trusted to save his daughter, I was sure as shit bringing her back alive, and not in some body bag. At least I’d do my best, and if I died trying, so be it. It was a fair trade, as far as I was concerned. I didn’t know much about his children, only that he had two grown daughters he was immensely protective of.
My assignment was simple. Barton had been tracking these assholes for a while. Apparently they were connected with that same Oklahoma City drug ring I’d assisted the police with a few weeks ago. His informant said the kidnappers drove a white sedan and were at a house in North Dallas, near Ridgecrest and Hemlock.
I grimaced; the Five Points area was one of the city’s worst neighborhoods. But with a little help from a friend, I’d be more than up to the task.